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The Bay in the early morning is bathed in a glittering blue light that you don't see at any other time during the day. Out in the middle of the water, there is a silence beyond meaningful description. There are no echoes. All sound dissipates immediately, or nearly so. The water is smooth. The boat, a small, flatbottomed craft made of corrugated metal, is not motionless. Motion is relative, out here. The craft is motionless, but the shore moves. Such is the stillness of the Bay.