The deep-water qaraqir with ornate stern carvings and the best sails one could buy. The sleek galleys with room for a hundred oarsmen that were twice as fast as any vessel I’d ever been on. The much-feared barija with its naft-spewing bellows and battering rams. Even the smaller bandit skiffs, the kind of boats that float so close to the waterline they’re all but invisible until their fighting men are throwing grappling hooks over your rails, were glossy and striking, drifting on the clear blue water like clouds on a beautiful day.
