They came round a bend and were greeted by one of those sudden surprising Amsterdam-vistas, down the canal to the ship-carpeted Ijsselmeer. Planted on the Ij-bank was the Herring-Packers' Tower, a roundish brick silo rising above a sloppy, fragrant quay where three vessels were tied up: a couple of hulks that were shuttling victuals out to bigger ships in the outer harbor, and God's Wounds, which looked as if she were being disassembled. All her hatches were removed for loading, and what remained had a structurally dubious look – especially when great sweating barrels of herring, and these mysterious sacks from the warehouse, were being dropped into it.