Charlie released the slipknot and it all came slithering out. I reflexively stepped back and slipped on the wash of mucus and blood and brine. I went down hard on my backside as the tide of fish charged into me. Within seconds I was coated in a foam of slime. Charlie was laughing, his hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as if he were trying to shrug something off him. But then I saw the knot of confusion tying itself into his forehead. He was staring into the glut of marine life as it arced and shuddered. I stared too.