The Skylight Coaming

I stepped onto the raised coaming of the quarterdeck skylight, tucking out of the direct draft sweeping across the basin. The heavy brass casing was cool, but the thick bullseye glass set into the timber held a faint amber glow rising from the deck below. I braced my boots against the oak rim and gripped the brass guard rail to test its rigidity. It did not budge at all. Leaning back against the sloped wooden frame, I stretched my legs out along the dry ledge. Deep inside the hull, the massive oak timbers groaned with a steady, rhythmic hum against the dry dock supports. Across the dark basin, the distant channel lights blinked in clear view.