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