We stay on deck quietly watching and listening to Nature as the sun sets and dusk becomes night. Birds quite down. Sheep cease their bleating. Some cicadas fall asleep but crickets pipe up to pick up the slack. Fish stir up the surface of the sea, flashing and jumping, chasing something and being chased in turn.

Stars sparkle. Orion and bright Sirius are up above and the Southern Cross and neighbouring pointer stars are in the southern sky.

In the dark we hear a heavy breath, another. Over and over again something dives into the obscure depths of the bay then surfaces into the dark night air to take 3 or 4 almost laboured breaths. A seal? A sea lion? Only once do I get a quick glimpse of a round wet back with a breathing hole, glistening in the reflected light of the quarter moon. A dolphin? A small whale? A Pelorus-ogopogo?