Flo got launched today. She was a long time in the making. They all are. Years, some of them. But not Flo. She was a quickie in comparison. Only a few years instead of many.

She was going to be called Kevin, at one stage. But I intervened, and I had her called Flo instead. Because we had a dear human Flo in our lives, the grandmother and great grandmother who was a presence in our lives since before we were born. At 95, human Flo was about to depart.

The name got pasted to the back section (I’m sure there’s a boaty term for that bit) of the boat before human Flo left us. Today, when she got launched to the smallest fanfare ever (just me on the beach with a camera to capture the moment), I did think of human Flo, and all that she was and that she inspired.

She has a positive spirit, this boat, just like human Flo did. Never a grumpy day in my presence , though there must have been grumpy days there somewhere. She was only human. But most times, she was easy going, ready for a laugh, a yarn, and a cup of tea. Anytime there was a party, Flo was there. That’s how I want to feel when I float on the water in Flo the boat.

I’m not a boat connoisseur, but Flo did seem to glide along rather serenely today. She was made by someone who has a good feel for boats, and so she looked the part in the water. All classic colours, cream and red and navy. Very Tommy Hilfiger. No awkwardness there. And she was casual and light, too, not a fussy, cumbersome boat that thinks too much of itself, or that will be too much trouble to take out for a short trip hugging the coast of our corner of the bay.

I’m not a lover of boats, but today, I realised I have a soft spot for you, dear Flo. May you cruise lightly along the water on many a fine day.