I have watched a great many things go wrong on a great many boats, and I generally consider myself hard to surprise. Eli surprised me today. Not yet one year old, not walking properly on land as far as I’ve seen, and he hauled himself up the companionway steps today, one small determined hand over the other, entirely on his own. Jo went up first, found Tobi at the tiller the way he always does, and came back down again, and Eli, who had watched every step of it from the cabin sole, decided his turn had come.

Nobody taught him that climb, not directly. I was belowdecks and saw the whole thing: no hesitation, no crying for help, just a baby who had clearly filed away his brother’s ascent a minute earlier and concluded the technique would work for him too. He got to the top, found Tobi at the tiller, and grinned like he’d just crossed an ocean. In a sense he had.

I have minded the comings and goings of a great many crews over a great many centuries, and I will say this plainly: I did not expect a one-year-old to out-climb half the able seamen I’ve known. Land-walking can apparently wait. A boat teaches its own priorities first.