ABSTRACT
Marco lived on a yacht, moored at the ancient Spanish port of Vigo. Not a particularly impressive vessel, it was of modest proportions, but its decks were a clean white and its chrome gleamed. It contained all that he considered necessary to function comfortably from day to day - a fridge, stereo, cooker, shower. A moveable home, it could quickly put nautical miles between him and all the things that had made him depressed three years earlier in the big city.
