“Checking the buoys at the surface to identify our pots is time-consuming. You will place these on all of my pots, for ease of recognition beneath the water.” Vanessa placed a handful of strips of pink ribbon on the deck.
I took the fabric and examined it. I recognised the ribbon she’d been cutting up in the sleep cabin. “A brighter colour or a more durable material might be more appropriate. This fabric will rapidly decay in the water.”
Her tone was commanding, brooking no argument. “You may examine other materials when you are next on the mainland. Now you will place the ribbons on the pots, until they decay beyond use. Then you will know which to fill with the old lobsters, without needing to look closely.”
I looked askance after her as she marched down the jetty to her house. I turned to Maria. “Does this seem peculiar to you?”
“It does. I suspect the troublesome young human fisherman is involved somehow,” she replied.
I nodded. “As do I.”