He would sail the length and breadth of Britain in his boat. With his wife. Maybe without his wife. He imagined restocking from local stores, drinking in countryside pubs and making idle chat with his fellow boatmen.
Rudder. Starboard. Aft. Steering wheel?
Money restraints aside, it was ideal. It was the perfect solution for him anyhow.
I don’t even know how to drive a bloody boat.