ABSTRACT
In the distance, one could still see the vessels that had been working to insure that the wellhead remained capped. They seemed unreal—industrial apparitions, gray like haze. Kessler tossed a bucket into the sapphire-colored water, and said, “You get this blue, kind of Caribbean color.” The sunlight was warm, and the breeze moved across the deck, and he added, “It’s hard to believe that there was really nasty thick crude all over this just a few months ago.”
