In the late 1800's Josephine Tychson, at age 31, found herself without a husband (tuberculosis & despair took him), with two children, a winery and vineyards. Most women in that day would look for another husband, a partner, to make their lives easier. After all, owning a vineyard, running it, supervising men and raising children simultaneously was something a woman wasn't expected to do.
If you could see forever over Earth's curves as you gaze south from this most remote of islands, the next land to meet your eye across the blue swell of the vast South Atlantic would be Antarctica. But as you can't, let's continue our lazy day by turning back from the waterfront, crossing the bridge over the dry moat, and passing through the town gate again.
After two and a half days at sea with nothing but the vast expanse of the sometimes grey, sometimes blue Atlantic tossing out in all directions, a rugged mountainous mass with sharp pointed pinnacles, deep folds and narrow ravines looms out of the dawn haze and clouds, a brilliant yellow sun gilding all.
Once they proudly sailed the seven seas, mighty traveling hotels, carrying both passengers and cargo to the furthest outposts of the British Empire, earning their prestigious title of RMS (Royal Mail Ship) by dint of carrying His or Her Britannic Majesty's mail to his or her farthest-flung subjects.