Had he been in an uncharitable mood, Alfred might have made a biting retort to this, or at least answered in a way that undercut Evander's apparent pride in the moment. He might have pointed out that they'd only just gotten free of the dock a moment ago, and proper sailing often involved going out for hours or getting far enough that shore was nothing more than a thin line on the horizon. He could have pointed out that sailing in the Sanditon was different (and a good deal easier) than sailing in waters unaffected by magical weather charms. He could have mentioned all of the other skills that went into being a true sailor, from the mechanical skills of tying knots to the more abstract concepts of celestial navigation. Alfred had started the day in an excellent mood however, and even if he hadn't, he'd never been able to sustain an ill humor once he got out on the water like this.

"Grand, isn't it?" he said with a wide grin. Holding onto one of the lines with one hand, he leaned out over the edge of the boat and stretched his free hand out into the wind.

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