They’ve caught something in the net, and my first instinct is to back away, remembering the slide of that huge body beside me. But what they’ve caught doesn’t seem to be anything like that large. If the man beside me is not afraid to bring his little girl closer, then maybe it’s nothing too dangerous. Maybe he knows this beach better than I do.

The little girl looks me over. I know I must be a sight, still wet and in borrowed jacket and makeshift shoes. She whispers something to her father and then looks back at me. Well, if she’s not afraid of sea serpents, she can hardly be afraid of me. “Are you here to fish, sweetheart?” I ask her, thinking her father can hardly take offense at that.