This is what sailing yachts were meant to do. Yards of white fabric soar above with only an indulgence of time and the promise of landfall on the other side of tomorrow. You’ve never seen stars like this – pushing back the abyss of space with impossible brightness. You’ve never had days like this – free of obligation and with no ruler for success other than meeting your pillow with a smile. Progress is measured in intimate conversations, sunrises and sunsets, visits to the Bridge, a massage in the spa. There are magical ports on the horizon, yes, but your desire for haste has somehow dissolved away in a sea of serenity.