Marinas are tricky things for us. They pull you in and want to keep you there. And life is really good for about five days. The girls go to swim in the pool in the afternoons. You put the electric kettle on like you’ve never used the stove before. Everything electrical always lights up green. But you get inexplicably grumpy. You forget you’re tired. You’ve done all those extra jobs. There’s not enough breeze like there is on anchor. Yes, it’s easy to go shopping. Yes, you never have to worry about water shortages. We end up yelling at each other anyway. Delph at Lu, Lu at me and me at the Cap. I don’t know why! It’s the big marina mystery. You wonder if the neighbours heard you… people you’ve only just met but still care about their opinion. You end up skulking around hoping that someone else would yell so you aren’t the only moron in the marina who loses their cool. All you hear is hot, airless silence. You inhale the poopy smell of the nearby mangroves.