[hears creaking and objects crashing down from the old warehouse] Hello? Hello? Who's that out there?! Ooh! [races off] I'm getting home fast! Fog or no fog! [Big Mac stops and sees the White Fleet silently sail by] Oh, tugs! Thanks goodness for... [A ghostly choir plays as the White Fleet pass by Big Mac] Who's that? Who’s that ahead of me tonight? Can’t hear their engines, that’s funny… The ghost fleet! That Scuttlebutt Pete talked about! Ghosts! No! [Big Mac cries out in fear as the White Fleet disappear into the fog]
[narrating] It was too much for Big Mac. Forgetting safety he charged into the fog and made his way through the dark shapes of moored boats and trampers. Trying to make sure, the ghost tugs weren’t following him.
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