“This,” I said at last to the old man,” this is the great whirlpool of the Maelstrom.”
“It is sometimes called that,” he said. “We Norwegians call it the Moskoe-strom.”
I knew about the whirlpool, but I could not believe my eyes.
“Have a good look,” said the old man, “and then listen to my story.”
I did what he asked.
“I and my two brothers,” he began, “owned a large fishing boat. We finished around the islands of Moskoe and Vurggh. It is dangerous, but there are a lot of fish in those waters.
“Usually we waited for good weather at the turn of the tide. At the turn of the tide, the Moskoe-strom is calm for fifteen minutes. When it was calm, we sailed across. Then we fished for the day and returned at the next turn of the tide. We always waited for a good wind so we could sail quickly. We were almost caught by the whirlpool only twice in six years. We were always careful, but it was a terrible danger.
