Then I reached for the brass bell mounted beside the gangway.
Its polished surface reflected the morning sun.
Grandpa had rung this bell before every departure for over thirty years.
Dad had rung it after him.
Now...
It was my turn.
The clear tone echoed across the marina.
Dong...
Every conversation stopped.
Crew members looked up.
Dockhands released the lines.
Passengers instinctively turned toward the yacht.
Mom stepped onto the end of the dock, just as she had for every departure since I could remember.
She smiled at me.
Then she pressed two fingers to her lips.
Touched the hull of Sea Whisper.
And whispered the same words she always did.
"Bring them all home."
I met her eyes.
Then gave a single nod.
"I will."
The engines rumbled to life beneath our feet.
The lines slipped free.
Sea Whisper eased away from the dock with the grace of a swan leaving shore.
No matter how many times it happened...
It always felt magical.
I stood at the helm as the marina slowly drifted behind us.
Ahead...
The Golden Gate Bridge stretched across the entrance to the Pacific.
Beyond it...
