The beach head was visible, the bank of yard metal gleamed in the moonlight. Only one more risk to take and the bounty would be ours. When the morning fishermen woke from their sleeping haze, all they would find would be leftover scraps.
In stealthy silence, we floated to a dry part of the shoreline where freezers were located, to check their haul. By the time we finished loading, the sky was alight on the horizon and the spine of our boat was curving.
The shore men won’t be singing any sea shanties this day.