Where is everybody?

We goose-wing the main and the genoa. We're sailing, doing 4 to 5 knots in following, southerly winds. With the occasional company of white rumped terns skimming the white-tipped waves.
Later on a white triangle on our horizon, aft, says we're not alone in the world. At nightfall the snip of sail turns into a bright light, still following, now slightly starboard.
During the night the skies open and thoroughly wash "Babette". And wash our following light away, out to starboard. Where did they go?