DARK OF THE BAY

HE COYOTES WERE east of us, running through the salt grass and ragweed that make up much of coastal South Texas. There wasn’t a breath of wind or ripple on the water, which helped amplify the howls that reverberated across Baffin Bay. The eerie cries of the distant pack mixed with the sharp pops and sucks of seatrout hitting mullet all around me. It was very strange music to this Jersey boy—a