Captain Richard Griffiths by Sonner Kehrt

There is something in the cadence of his words ~ intentional, elaborate ~ that makes it seem as though he is always telling a story, even if you’ve only asked for the time. His dark eyes twinkle during his expectant pauses, scanning his audience eagerly to see if they’ve understood, if they’re deserving of the next sentence. And the draw of the great Captain Richard Griffiths is that even if you have only asked for the time, you suddenly find yourself wanting to know more and

before you realize it, time has become immaterial and it is 1967 and you are sailing from England to Greece on Rosalind, the Captain’s pride and joy, which in reality is docked behind him at the Brewer Oxford Boatyard. He landed in Oxford, this beautiful speck of a town not far from St. Michaels, fifteen years ago. There’s something almost incongruous about his being here, as if the tranquil village isn’t quite suited to accommodate fifty years

Capt. Richard Griffiths below deck aboard the Rosalind. 37