Angus turns and looks out to sea, wide and choppy with the swell. There is now no sign of the other boat. His reverie is broken when he sees a large, brown, brawny hand thrust in front of his face:

“Robert Watts, from Reading, but my friends call me Tiny. Look, I don’t know much about seamanship. I’m an aeronautical engineer by trade. But if you want anything done at any time, just explain the job to me and I’ll do it.”

Angus takes his hand and pumps it.

“Thanks, Mr. … Watts, is it?”


“Tiny, then. I’m Angus. Thanks very much. I think we’ll be needing all the help we can get.”

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