Two Hunters on a Saturday

Saturday. Two hunters at the hatch this morning: a brother and sister, very keen, with a harpoon drawn on a napkin.

On a weekday, two is enough for the Sydney submarine. On a Saturday the management wants four, and I see the sense of it; Saturdays are crowded and the Beast is at its most theatrical. But these two had rung the venue that morning, as a pair is allowed to, and a spare berth had come up. So down they went, the two of them, against the largest creature in the ocean.

The sister asked whether strangers would be sent in to make up the numbers. Certainly not. Every dive belongs to one party alone. Nobody boards my submarine unless they came with you, and the Beast, being outside, does not count.

Whether they got the better of the Beast is between them and the Beast. I will only say that the napkin is now pinned above my desk.