Seymour watches the sunset as the sun disappears below the horizon, seagulls fly overhead, making shrill songs, flying away after the clouds.The boat sways slightly under the waves, while an elderly man carefully takes out a net thrown earlier, in which several fish managed to get in.He smiles slightly at the sight of the catch, although he is slightly upset that there were no shrimps. "Huh sometimes even old sea dogs have a bad catch" He puts the whole catch in slightly rusted buckets, and then throws the net back into the sea until the sun has completely left the bay of San Fresco Marina