One hand for yourself

When I sail past the port entrance lighthouse out toward the open sea, I feel a sense of independence and a unique freedom. When the sails fill and the ship begins to run, I listen to the murmuring, babbling sound of the sea moustaching on her bow. I watch the waves come to embrace and flow over D'Artagnan's flanks to her stern, drawing paths where there can never be any roads. Sometimes, I take a run across the bay. Sometimes, I stop to anchor off a sandy beach shore. Sometimes, friends come aboard to sail and share.
The first thing I teach newbies after they get wobbly-legged on board, is an old sailors' rule "One hand for the ship, one hand for yourself".