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tood on the deck of the fishing trawler watching his own reflection break into halves； thirds； fourths by the boat's bow…break。 The wharfs were ing up； and young boys stood ready there to catch and secure the thick fore and aft deck lines。 Beneath the tangle of wharf pilings； where the steady surf washed in on a beach； crabs rustled through thorns and grass。 The remains of a fishing skiff were half…buried there； and now no one remembered to whom it had belonged。 Other small boats were beached along the semicircle of the harbor； nets were drying over timber racks； and a solitary fisherman sat beneath a cluster of palms； watching the trawler as it neared。
The larger trawlers were moored in their places； their tire…browed sides rubbing aged timbers。 A sheen of oil floated across the water； tinting it in a kaleidoscope of thick colors； a dead ghostfish hung in the midst of it； the oil coloring it。 In another moment the trawler's bow had ground it under。
〃I've been in these islands for all my life； David；〃 said Kip； ing up beside him and speaking over the din of the diesels' hoarse voices。 〃But I've never seen anything like that happen before。 Like I say； it's a holy wonder you weren't killed。〃 He scowled inwardly when he realized Moore wasn't listening。
Kip had been born into a poor fishing family on Hatcher Key； a small island perhaps a hundred miles to the east of Coquina； so named because of its turtle hatchery。 Often he dreamed of being a youth there again； running with his friends across mountains of gleaming ivory sand； and beyond the shore into the surf with its unbroken patterns of white。 Then his father had broken his arm and shoulder running the family's boat aground on an uncharted sunken steamer。 The bones had never knitted correctly and his father had had to give up fishing； so the family had gathered up their belongings and moved to the Kingston slums； a mass of twisted clapboard and streets of shifting sand。 Survival there had meant making miniature straw figures for the tourists； or in Kip's case； acting as a guide for a few pence。 His aunt and uncle lived just outside Kingston； on the fringe of the woods。 They had frightened Kip…their beliefs and practices had seemed peculiar…unnatural…and altered their everyday personalities in some inexplicable way。 Kip had hated his visits with those people。
His mother had barely known how to read； but she insisted on teaching him。 If you can read； she said； you can think。 And in this world a man got to think to survive。 While the woman had read to Kip； his father had sat apart from them in the tiny room； watching the lantern flicker and listening to the roll and call of the sea。
Kip had gone to the United States； to Florida； to seek his own living and there he had run into trouble。 The grinning； tallow…faced white men either tried to beat him or steal whatever money he made sweeping floors in a Miami poolhall。 They weren't all like that； of course； but he thought then he'd seen enough badness there to last a lifetime。 By day he absorbed everything he saw or heard； and by night； in an upstairs room with holes in the plaster； he read all the books he could beg or borrow。 One of them impressed him greatly： a novel about the bobbies of London； called The Long Arm of the Law。 And so he worked his way across the Atlantic on a tramp steamer that docked in Liverpool； finding work as a deckhand on a harbor tug。 He had had trouble at first； as the object of scorn and derision of the white old…timers。 He had gradually won their respect； if not their friendship； simply because he could work like any three of them put together。 Kip had gotten into a program in law enforcement and； returning to the islands in the sixties with his education and his eyes full of the world； he had landed a post as an officer in the Bahamas。 On Grand Bahama he'd met his wife…to…be and fathered his first child； a boy named Andrew。 Then he was offered the position of constable on Coquina。 He had accepted because of the responsibility involved and the sense of doing something worthwhile。
He and Myra had stayed on Coquina because they'd found life good here； peaceful and secure。 Mindy had been born just after they'd arrived； and five years later； Andrew； then seventeen； had gone to the United States on a factory boat to find his own path in the world。 Kip saw the cycle repeating again and though he'd miss his son； he knew there was no use in trying to hold back what must be。 Which was； he knew； the way of the world。
The trawler cut its engines and coasted toward the wharf。 The boys caught the deck lines and made them secure around the stumps of pilings。 Moore took Kip by the arm。 〃Look who's ing；〃 he said。
〃His excellency；〃 Kip said； watching the black man in a dark suit and white shirt approaching them。
Moore climbed over the side of the boat and stepped onto the wharf； nearby two old men were cutting the heads off snappers to use as bait the following morning。 Their knives gleamed with blood。 As they worked they kept looking up at the thing that hung crazily across the reef。
〃What's that？〃 another black with a gold front tooth asked Moore； he squinted to look out to the reef。 〃Big fish someone landed。〃
〃That's right；〃 Moore replied。 〃A hell of a big fish。〃
〃Moore！〃 called the man in the dark suit； making his way past piles of crates； drying nets； and barrels of fish offal covered with motionless flies。
Kip had stepped onto the wharf behind the white man to watch the mayor's approach。 Reynard never failed…he was always there as soon as something happened that might make him look bad。
〃Where did that e from？〃 Reynard asked as he reached Moore； looking over Kip's shoulder at the hulk。 He was neatly dressed in a clean suit； but the tight knot in his dark…blue tie was stretched badly； and the collar and cuffs of his shirt were frayed。 When he squinted the lines around his nose and beneath his sparse field of white hair folded into deep trenches that gave his face the appearance of an aged oil painting about to crack。 〃My God！〃 he said； not looking at either the white man or the constable。 〃Do you know what that is？〃
〃It corked from about a hundred and fifty feet in the Abyss；〃 Moore told him。 〃And； yes； I know what it is。〃
〃Is it open？〃 The mayor turned to look at Kip。
〃No。〃
〃It's wedged in there； is it？ Thank God it didn't e into the harbor or we'd have hell to pay； gentlemen。 It looks from here to be almost intact。。。〃
〃It is；〃 agreed Moore。 〃All two hundred feet of it。〃
The mayor made a face； as if he had swallowed something bitter。 〃What's going to be done with it； constable？〃
〃Right now I don't know。 It's safe here for the time being。 As long as it doesn't slip off the reef； it's not going anywhere。〃
〃Isn't there some way to sink it again？〃 Reynard said； glancing nervously from one man to the other。
〃Unseal the hatches or torch a hole in it under the hull；〃 Kip said。 〃But I'm not so sure that's our decision。 There are salvage laws to consider； the thing may belong to Moore。〃
Moore looked at him。 He hadn't thought of that before； but now he realized it was entirely possible。 He had found the thing and