“Basking sharks!”
At 5am, these words shatter the silence in the sleeping quarters on the lower deck of the ship.
The crew burst into life, wrestling on clothes, cameras, binoculars.
Up on the helm, eyes pace back and forth across the expansive blue of Gunna Sound – a known feeding ground for these gentle giants off the west coast of Scotland – searching for the elusive fins which moments before pierced the water.
And then… nothing.
