Then he turned and started walking—fast—back toward his cottage. If no one else would look, he would. If no one believed him, he’d get proof. He’d find it again. Whatever it was, it hadn’t vanished. Not really. He knew the sea too well for that.
He motored out towards the area where he’d last seen the shape. The sun was higher now, glaring off the water, making it difficult to see. He circled for nearly an hour, his earlier frustration giving way to a dogged persistence.