"I'm putting myself in your hands. No pressure or anything," he said mischievously.

He sat on the bench and swung the oars in the oarlocks, dipping them beneath the water and beginning to row. "That's the idea. I'll take it a lot slower pulling out of here since it's so much darker now." He didn't believe he'd get them going fast enough to do any real hull damage. It seemed better safe than sorry, though.

He started turning the skiff to get them facing the proper direction to make use of the light. He could make her out crouched near the prow, backlit by the illumination of the lamp, and a small circle of lamplight reflecting on water beyond. That was the extent of his vision for steering.