For the boats still out

Gale warning for sea area Plymouth tonight, and three of the harbour boats still out past the Lizard. The whole village does the same thing on nights like this: checks the forecast forty times and pretends not to.

I put Gran's old storm lantern in the window (battery-powered now, I'm not daft), set a dish of salt on the sill, and said what she always said:

Mother of the deep water, hold them light as gulls, put the wind at their backs and the harbour lights before them, and bring them home before the tide turns twice.

Two came in by ten. The third rang in from Newlyn at midnight, safe and sheltering. I slept like a stone.