“'Course we are,” he said, but certainty edged away from his words.

Because there was a hush on the sea. It didn't look right. The boat rocked a little, but that was with their movement, not from any motion of the waves.

It felt as if there was going to be a storm. But the stars twinkled softly and there was not a cloud in the sky.

The stars twinkled on the surface of the water, too. Now that was something you didn't often see.

“I reckon we ought to be getting out of here,” Solid said.

Les pointed at the slack sail. “What're we going to use for wind, Dad?”

It was then that they heard the splash of oars.

Solid, squinting hard, could just make out the shape of another boat, heading towards him. He grabbed his boathook.

“I knows that's you, you thieving foreign bastard!”

The oars stopped. A voice sang over the water.

“May you be consumed by a thousand devils, you damned person!”

The other boat glided closer. It looked foreign, with eyes painted on the prow.

“Fished 'em all out, have you? I'll take my trident to you, you bottom-feedin' scum that y'are!”

“My curvy sword at your neck, you unclean son of a dog of the female persuasion!”

Les looked over the side. Little bubbles fizzed on the surface of the sea.

“Dad?” he said.

“That's Greasy Arif out there!” snapped his father, “You take a good look at him! He's been coming out here for years, stealing our squid, the evil lying little devil!”

“Dad, there's—”

“You get on them oars and I'll knock his black teeth out!”

Les could hear a voice saying from the other boat, “—see, my son, how the underhanded fish thief—”