Today's OneWord: Sailboats

We counted thirteen boats bobbing like planets along an endless watery cosmic sea. Seven of them were sailboats. They moved in a straight line, like a poor man's armada, before circling the dusty black rocks that made up the town's shoreline. I couldn't see the faces of the people steering the vessels, but I could see how brown their skin was - baked like caramelized sugar on a summer afternoon.