The sun was out today, for once, and I left the house in good time to take advantage of the light. So you’d think I’d come back with something special for this post. It turns out the sun was lulling me into a false sense of security. The photo I wanted to succeed had far too much light reflecting off the Ada Dorothy’s deck paintwork, and the sky was washed out. The hull, though! I’d have eloped with the Ada Dorothy if it was just her hull.
This photo is like the curate’s egg, bad but good in parts. Someone in a P. G. Wodehouse novel, probably Jeeves, said it once, and I’ve always wanted to use the expression. So let’s hear it for a fine old broad with a great hull, and please forgive my photography.