Simna’s excited whooping and hollering as Ahlitah pulled in one fish after another with great, swift sweeps of his paws drew Ehomba’s attention back to the water off the port side. Overhead, the liberated winds were finally starting to dissipate, borne aloft on their own wild energy as they dispersed to the four corners of the world. With its calm green slopes, mild temperature, and gentle breezes, the valley was a wonderfully tranquil space. A man could make a life in such a place, he mused, save for the fact that he would immediately begin to sink and drown. It belonged to the fishes, and to the seaweed that rode its small waves in broad, thick mats, and to the seabirds that from time to time descended raucously to hunt for fry and fingerlings among the lazily drifting greenery.
It reminded him of the beaches below the village, of a home that was distant in space and becoming increasingly distant in time. Glancing to his left as he leaned on the rail, he saw the shape of Stanager Rose stalking back and forth among her crew, barking orders and encouragement. Dangerously distant, he thought as he resolutely returned his attention to his two mismatched companions and their exuberant efforts to mine the piscine realm of its subsurface riches.
True to her estimate, the last repairs to the Grömsketter were completed by late afternoon of the following day. Fatigued but elated, Stanager emerged from her cabin and the luxury of a Captain’s private sun-heated shower to join her passengers on the helm deck. Below as well as aloft, the reinvigorated crew was making final preparations for departure, as much rejuvenated by the respite from sailing and rough weather as was their ship.