Article July 1, 1985 ISSUE

Steering through the mist

ROBERT A. MOSS

When I was a boy I used to spend summer holidays with an aunt who lived by the river Thames. She owned a boat. When we went on the river she would row, and I would sit in the stern and steer with the ropes that moved the rudder. I felt proud of having the job of directing the boat.

One day we rowed miles down the river and had a picnic. We were rather late starting back, and dusk began to fall. Worse than this, a heavy mist settled on the river.

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