“I’m debating.” I said. “Debating what?” Joe asked. “Debating whether or not to do what you say, or insist we go into Point Judith.” Joe was still thinking that we would sail all night and ease into Mystic River with the sunrise; I was still unconvinced. It was dark and the stars were scattered above us in their beautiful cosmic pictographs. We were slicing through the water at a comfortable 4.5 knots, a few miles off the coast of Rhode Island, about halfway between Newport and Point Judith. Straight ahead were the buoys that could guide us into that Harbor of Refuge. I was a bit anxious and tired; but…