Though Mehmet’s hands were calloused from all the times the gloves chafed in his work, he did nonetheless have said gloves tucked away in his pocket. He doubted he needed them as much as the other two, but something (cough “I’m good” cough) told him he should put them on anyway as an example and so he did.

When one of them started hollering at another boat, he looked between Murphy and the only fellow darker than him in the boat.

“Which is the stern!” Mehmet called back to Murphy, if only for something to distract from whatever interpersonal strife was unfolding across three boats.