At six o’clock in the evening we stood like two anxious dogs upon the edge of the River, peering into the mist and grey light to determine whether indeed the approaching small craft was that of our hosts, Debbie and Mike, from the Village of Appleton, come to collect us for dinner with them at their home. The motor of the boat puttered languidly. They came more sharply into view as the boat’s bow was seemingly magnetized to our shoreline stance. “Ahoy!”, went up the corporate welcome on both sides, and the metal craft slid with a grind onto the beach and out jumped Mike and Debbie both cleverly sporting open plastic shoes to accommodate the water upon their feet. Then followed embraces and the first of many groans about the disappointing weather which for the last hour had turned from cloudy to on-and-off drizzle, threatening to dampen our planned outing. Nonetheless we in unison proclaimed our advantage over such niggling details and proceeded to career ourselves into the small craft in preparation for departure, supplemented by less than nautical burbles about balance, size and position.