Softly, as if at a great distance, the honk of a lone goose on the wing could be heard had anyone been awake and alert. Slowly, it drew louder as though approaching the sheltered harbor out of season. Sober heads began to stir as the goose's call was answered by its flock drawing nearer. Soon, the gossiping gaggle began to disturb the repose of the most recumbent and a cabin light came to life here and there among the fleet. In a moment, all crews were awake as the blast of a shotgun tore its way across the anchorage.
“Don't you ever get tired of doing that?” she demanded.
Harry shrugged. “Hell, they expect it,” he replied, and slid under the covers beside her.
Harry's wife turned her back to him. She knew that he would be at it again in about an hour. Everyone in the fleet knew it. A few grumbled. Some chuckled.