“Of course,” he lied. “Come morning, I’m sure we’ll see we’re only a few hundred meters off of a perfect white sand beach.”

She didn’t laugh, or reply. But even in the dark, Tusker could tell she wasn’t asleep.

Strange Catch

Pottuvil, Sri Lanka. The next morning.

It was another bad haul, and now the motor was acting up. Chandin had been coaxing it along for months, cleaning the spark plugs and adding oil every night. It was only a matter of time before it would need an overhaul. But with the fishing so bad, it was all he could do to pay for his gas from the day’s catch. Every night, he sailed his 32-foot trawler further out, hoping to find a new reef or fishing ground that no one had discovered yet. One shark would feed his family for a month and pay for the motor’s repair, but he hadn’t caught one in years.

The anemic engine chugged along at half its usual rpms. It would be well past 8:00 when they’d get back to the beach and another hour before he’d have his small pile of kingfish, barracuda, and squid at the market. Ajith, his son, slept curled up in the bow on a heap of old nets, still with the peace of youth, unencumbered by the worry that plagued Chandin.

The boat wallowed over the lazy swells, and the sun rose over Chandin’s left shoulder. Seven miles ahead, the shoreline appeared in the morning haze of sea spray, wood smoke and diesel exhaust. Another fishing boat was on the horizon to the south, angling in towards Pottuvil. He recognized the gaily painted cabin as that of Mulan, and he wondered what kind of night he’d had. Looks like he went out far too, thought Chandin.

He heard a faint shout, barely audible above the chugging engine. He cut the rpms and listened. There it was again. It couldn’t have been Mulan. He was too far away, but he didn’t see another boat. He reduced to idle speed and came out on the front deck, stepping deftly over the fishing tackle with his bare feet. “Ajith!” He gave him a nudge and the boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I heard something. Help me look.” He spoke in Tamil.

The sea was still grey in the morning light, with a few whitecaps rolling towards the distant coast. Fifty meters off the starboard bow he caught a flash of color. It disappeared below a roller, then reappeared. It was a bright orange tube, somehow floating vertically in the water. Then — yes! — a person. Two people, in fact, both waving their arms at him. What were they doing this far off shore, and this early in the morning? Had their boat capsized? He shouted back to them and ran to the cabin, shouting to Ajith to keep an eye on them.