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When I was six, I built a boat: it sank as soon as I stepped into it because I thought form was everything. Also when I was six, I built a fishing rod and I caught no fish: I had no idea what rope aka line to use. Rope is as various as its uses.

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He with the odd length from the line locker here “taught me the ropes” when I first stepped aboard Pioneer. Bon voyage sailor, as he’s now moved to another ship.

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Line is a thing of beauty, both visual and tactile, especially so on water: because of its importance, it’s treated with great respect.  Thanks, Elizabeth, for this shot.

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Even after it has been discarded, as these lengths resting on pallets, line is a thing of beauty.

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And knots, that’s the subject for another whole post. Knotting is an ancient art. The fisher is from my favorite fountain not far from the Delaware.

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