The skipper and the sea.

The skipper and the lighthouse.

The last night, the moon had a golden ring. The skipper with his weather beaten face blew smoke rings from his pipe. The wind was so cold, it could chill your soul. The wind was so loud as the white snowflakes fell into the sea. The boat swayed back and forth, and you could hear the tearing of the sails. As they shone in the night. But the sails held out through the wintery gale. Dawn was here, and a skipper would not fail. He hung on to the wheel and turned the ship around, and there was a lighthouse with land all around.