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It was later in life when I had my own long-ship that I became aware only a fool would venture across the North Sea in November. At nine, I had no inkling of normal: the captain should wait for a fair breeze blowing from the south-west and for clear skies and settled weather. At times, for others less fortunate, the delay might seem interminable, but we enjoyed good luck and the prevailing wind from that quarter. So, we set off early next morning immediately after Stefan sacrificed a squealing, wriggling piglet to the gods, its blood meant to favour our safe crossing. The sea is bounteous and provides for man but is also capricious and perilous. Stefan shared much of his lore with me, not with Eilaf; I suppose my natural curiosity gratified him. He explained how to use the sun shadow stic