081313 #copperhead There's always one last drag. The penultimate shove invariably leads to one last gravel scraping—a sandpaper tentacle caressing the hull with one last goodbye—an almost foolish, tender gesture—the gravel knows it cannot keep you; knows you will always return to the water, as long as you can. No land can compete with water in the hearts of men; it realizes this, and yet—and yet—