Shortly after the end of Doc Martin last night, I heard a BOOM. Going to the window I saw, at the end of the dock, flames illuminating the night and a thick black tower of smoke rising into the sky. Adding to the drama were the rotating lights of firetrucks and police cars; happily, someone had noticed the fire long before I had.
I put on my sandals and headed downstairs. By the time I made my way past the closest firetruck, the flames had been extinguished. A small crowd of onlookers stood in the driveway of the 1300 building, gazing at the smoldering boat; firefighters walked past in their bulky brown outfits and sloping helmets.
No one, including the owners, had any idea how a boat could have caught on fire at night.
