Scotty held the binoculars to his eyes. "Sure enough. About eight trawlers so far, pretty well scattered."
In a few moments they could see clouds of gulls and petrels around the boats, a sure sign of plenty of fish. Then they made out the details of the big nets used by the fishermen for catching the menhaden.
"See if you can spot the Albatross," Rick said.
"You'll have to go down and pass each boat, then. I couldn't make out the names from this height."
"Okay. Here we go."
On each of the craft, fishermen waved as the Cub sped past. Scotty read the names aloud. None of the trawlers was the Albatross.
Rick put the Cub into a climb. "There must be other trawlers around. Let's go up and take a look."
Scotty shook his head. "I have a better idea. We'll see the Albatross tonight, anyway. Why not go into shore and fly over Creek House? Sometimes you can see things from the air you can't see from the ground."
Rick considered. Flying out to the fleet had been only an impulse anyway; he hadn't expected to see anything. He was quite sure the Albatross would look and act just like the rest of the Seaford fleet.
"Good idea," he said finally, and banked the Cub around. He pointed the little plane south of west to compensate for the wind, then settled back.