The mariners swore the storm was ordinary until the rain turned black, the mast received one rude tap from below, and every compass on board pointed straight down. The captain called this “a navigational opportunity,” which is why captains should not be left alone with optimism.
One sailor laughed at the tentacle in the fog. The logbook records the laugh, the splash, and then, in much smaller handwriting, no further jokes.
Today we honor their poor decision-making with shirts, stickers, and strongly worded panic. History says they were lost at sea. We say the sea got organized.