Hello, Barbara. Look out your window, all the lobster pot buoys in the cove are gone. Somebody has taken them. The water is as clear as a mirror.
That can't be right, Phil. People don't steal buoys, or pots, or lobsters, for that matter. This is Maine. These fisherman are honest. I'm busy making lunch and can't go to the window just now.
But the buoys are gone. All of them. I don't see any.
Put on your glasses. You know how you shove them up on your forehead and forget you don't have them on.
Don't patronize me. My wife used to do it all the time, and I didn't like it then. I don't see the red and whites of Henry Adams' along the far shore, or the yellow and blues of Robby Ellis' in shore or any of the others at the mouth.
Okay, let me look. Gosh, you're right. There's nothing out there. Not even the tip of a buoy stick. Just water.
I think some tourist has taken them for souvenirs, thought it would take some time to get them all, and someone would see, like you or me, but then why, Barbara? Regular summer folk like us wouldn't do anything like that of course but you know these wild kids in their overpowered boats from down the coast.
I've seen the tide come in and the buoys go upright, but gone... You're right, Phil. It is strange. But theft? We would have seen or heard something.
Barbara, I think we should get the coast guard to send a cutter up here to investigate. Were they there this morning? Do you remember seeing them. Perhaps they were taken in the night. In fact, I think there's a market for them. There's a market for everything. Somebody's been cutting the pot warps and making the hard life of lobstermen even more difficult, just to make a lousy buck selling bootleg buoys.
Where they there this morning? I guess. But maybe I didn't expect to see anything else. But then why is everybody so calm down near the water? I can see from here the bench at the end of the dock, and those old codgers Amasa and Killian just sitting as they always do side by side, arms crossed, leaning back and not excited about anything.
You know how phlegmatic these Mainers are. They'd take their time to formulate a reply if you told them to duck. I haven't been around long enough to see this kind of larceny before, but perhaps they have. Perhaps there's insurance, and they don't care.
You know, no matter how much you think you know a place, if you don't live here, there's always something you didn't suspect. Let me call Mrs Beamis at the store and see what she knows.
Barbara, I'm going to get the police to call the coast guard. Someone's got to do it. It's my duty. It's unnatural all this water and no buoys. The cove looks empty as a looted store. If buoys aren't safe here, nothing's safe.
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Okay, Barbara, these officials also give you that 'let's wait a while and see what happens' treatment, and they never do anything. I harangued them a little though, and they're sending up a boat. Should be here soon.
Phil, Phil, look again. Do you see how the water on the opposite shore is over the top of the rocks, almost at the trees? This was a spring tide, extraordinarily high, according to Mrs Beamis, but now it's on the ebb. Can you just see the tops of the buoy sticks poking through the water? Oops, and here comes the cutter.
That can't be right, Phil. People don't steal buoys, or pots, or lobsters, for that matter. This is Maine. These fisherman are honest. I'm busy making lunch and can't go to the window just now.
But the buoys are gone. All of them. I don't see any.
Put on your glasses. You know how you shove them up on your forehead and forget you don't have them on.
Don't patronize me. My wife used to do it all the time, and I didn't like it then. I don't see the red and whites of Henry Adams' along the far shore, or the yellow and blues of Robby Ellis' in shore or any of the others at the mouth.
Okay, let me look. Gosh, you're right. There's nothing out there. Not even the tip of a buoy stick. Just water.
I think some tourist has taken them for souvenirs, thought it would take some time to get them all, and someone would see, like you or me, but then why, Barbara? Regular summer folk like us wouldn't do anything like that of course but you know these wild kids in their overpowered boats from down the coast.
I've seen the tide come in and the buoys go upright, but gone... You're right, Phil. It is strange. But theft? We would have seen or heard something.
Barbara, I think we should get the coast guard to send a cutter up here to investigate. Were they there this morning? Do you remember seeing them. Perhaps they were taken in the night. In fact, I think there's a market for them. There's a market for everything. Somebody's been cutting the pot warps and making the hard life of lobstermen even more difficult, just to make a lousy buck selling bootleg buoys.
Where they there this morning? I guess. But maybe I didn't expect to see anything else. But then why is everybody so calm down near the water? I can see from here the bench at the end of the dock, and those old codgers Amasa and Killian just sitting as they always do side by side, arms crossed, leaning back and not excited about anything.
You know how phlegmatic these Mainers are. They'd take their time to formulate a reply if you told them to duck. I haven't been around long enough to see this kind of larceny before, but perhaps they have. Perhaps there's insurance, and they don't care.
You know, no matter how much you think you know a place, if you don't live here, there's always something you didn't suspect. Let me call Mrs Beamis at the store and see what she knows.
Barbara, I'm going to get the police to call the coast guard. Someone's got to do it. It's my duty. It's unnatural all this water and no buoys. The cove looks empty as a looted store. If buoys aren't safe here, nothing's safe.
===========================================================================
Okay, Barbara, these officials also give you that 'let's wait a while and see what happens' treatment, and they never do anything. I harangued them a little though, and they're sending up a boat. Should be here soon.
Phil, Phil, look again. Do you see how the water on the opposite shore is over the top of the rocks, almost at the trees? This was a spring tide, extraordinarily high, according to Mrs Beamis, but now it's on the ebb. Can you just see the tops of the buoy sticks poking through the water? Oops, and here comes the cutter.
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