Poke around anyplace near water, and you're sure to find discarded pleasure craft sulking in back yards, or mouldering gamely in the crackling summmer sun, their days afloat well behind them. Some are the result of collision or poor upkeep, but most are simply past their time. The owners have passed on, or the kids' crafts replaced by other interests. Oddly, I find these old hulls congregating, as if proximity and togetherness might make their journey to the crusher more bearable. Boats have souls, you see, and we recognize this. It's why we give them names.