The crew of Duale docks at St. Georges, just ahead of Salamander We’d been told to expect meteor showers on our first night out of Bermuda, so Sue and I were eyes-alert to the black sky when a green light, round like a traffic light, erupted from the sea 300 yards off our starboard bow. It arced toward us and Salamander’s foredeck and sails were briefly aglow in green, like an alien spaceship. Then it was gone. “What the hell was that?” Sue asked. “A flare,” I said, already i