The sea had its moods, but the old sailors were never without company. One gull perched proudly on a shoulder, settling in as though he belonged. Another circled overhead, carried by the breeze. The men smoked their pipes and traded stories, half listening to each other, half to the bird, who squawked as if he had the final say in every tale. Out on the rolling waves, it was hard to tell who captained whom — but together, they made a crew.