The sun was high. That was his ship. His index finger was casually indifferent to her qualities. It was deprecative. I murmured warm approval of her usefulness.
Tugs are indispensable vessels.
She was a large tug. We talked of the handiness of tugs, and their remarkable power. The little skipper of the one in the harbour looked at his tug in friendly annoyance. Come and see it. He did not mean his ship.