What is surprising about the morning at the wharf?

A. The fishing fleet comes back.

From the text:

They floated a while, then they began to grow, tiny gulls becoming boats again, a white armada cruising toward us. “They’re coming back,” my mother said.

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There was no explanation. No one had ever seen anything like this before. We watched and waited, and when the boats were still about half a mile off the lighthouse, a fellow from the cannery came running down to the wharf shouting that the Japanese had just bombed Pearl Harbor.