by Michael Cole
“Howdy,” Wayne said as he climbed aboard the stern of the vessel. He wore the same damn jeans, t-shirt, and cap, all covered in fish-gut stains, mud, and seaweed. The only thing different was a navy-blue hoodie that he wore over his shirt, and it too had the same signs of dirtiness.
“Morning,” Napier said. He throttled his vessel forward out of the dock, aiming it for his buoy in Razortooth Cove. The breeze grew stronger as they pressed against it, and Napier was grateful for this. Wayne had lit a fresh cigarette, and the wind blew the smoke and smell away. At least I’ve gotten one blessing today, Napier thought to himself.
********
“Good Lord, I can’t wait until that winch is fixed!” Wayne cursed as both men finished tugging the net on board the deck, unhooking the fish and tossing them into the large rectangular holding container. The net contained as much catch as every other Monday, which brought a mild feeling of relief for Napier. However this was a small net that contained a small fraction of the day’s earnings. And he never experienced any trouble with this net; it was the other two that were lacking in results on Saturday, and he was anxious to see what they held today.
“I hope you’re not too sore,” Napier said. “The other two should be a lot heavier to bring in.”
“Well, as long as nobody decided to cut those nets up as well,” Wayne remarked. “Have you read the newspapers? I guess Old Hooper’s not the only one to find his drift nets torn apart.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Napier said. The two spent the next half-hour laying out a fresh net and marked it with the same buoy. After that work was finished, Napier climbed into the cabin and throttled the Catcher out of the cove. Once they were clear, he turned the vessel towards the southeast buoy.
********
“I don’t understand it,” Napier complained as he climbed back up to the upper deck, leaving Wayne alone with the southeast net, which still had some of its bait still strung to it. There was even less fish than before. Napier’s hopes were already dry, as he expected the eastern net to return similar results. He stepped into his cabin and stared through his front window into the open ocean. Was it possible that the fish were migrating elsewhere? Was this his punishment for using driftnets, which he used despite how much he despised them? He pushed away this superstitious thought from his mind. His nets were strategically placed so they would only catch what they were meant to, and they never failed at their goal. Most other fisherman abused the driftnet exemption law that Mako’s Center possessed, resulting in the killing of numerous sea creatures that had no value in the local markets.
“Yo, Captain,” Wayne called out. “You asleep up there?” Napier realized he was sharing too much time with his thoughts and hadn’t throttled the vessel yet.
“My bad,” he said. He pressed the throttle forward, causing the engine to rumble as the propellers pushed the Catcher in a northern direction toward the east buoy. He continued to stare out into the ocean as he drove the vessel. The sky had finally begun to clear up, and the wind had subsided. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wayne climbing up the ladder behind him. He didn’t bother to look back as his fishing partner stepped onto the upper deck and opened the door to the small cabin.
“No need to fall on your sword, Rick,” Wayne said, trying to sound somewhat philosophical. He knew what was on Napier’s mind…at least he knew some of the things. “These things happen to every fisherman at some point. Just give it enough time. You’ll get your boat fixed up and we’ll be back to our normal fishing routines instead of using these drift nets.” Napier didn’t say anything back for a couple of minutes, as he thought over Wayne’s words, ‘these things happen to every fisherman’… That was one of Napier’s troubles; he wasn’t meant to be a fisherman. While he was definitely meant to be out on his boat in the ocean, it was to be studying sea life, not trapping it in nets for a store owner to cut up. He didn’t begrudge the fishing industry, it just wasn’t what he felt he was born to do. He continued to stare into the horizon and drive the vessel.
It wasn’t a very long trip from the southeastern buoy to the eastern one. Napier always saved this one for last, as it was the closest one to East Port, where he would meet up with Mr. Gary to make their transaction. Wayne had stepped outside onto the deck as they neared their destination. Both fishermen looked ahead and saw the black buoy bobbing within the water, signaling the location of the net. However, their eyes went beyond the buoy into the distant horizon, beholding the sight of a Coast Guard Cutter anchored nearly a half-mile off of Mako’s Center’s east coast. The cutter, labeled on the port side as the USCGC Ryback, was a National Security Cutter, stretching over three-hundred feet from bow to stern. On the deck was a large cannon; a Bofors 57mm gun, a weapon capable of tearing a ship of equal size to bits. To their view, the enormous ship almost looked like a silver grain of rice in the light blue blanket of water. The sound of multiple boat engines caught their attention, and both men were surprised to see several smaller Coast Guard vessels, roughly the same size as the Catcher, cruising the northeast corner of the island. Napier’s mind was no longer dwelling on his problems; rather he was dying to know what such a large Coast Guard unit was doing in Mako’s Ridge.
“What in the hell is this?” he said. Wayne stepped back into the cabin.
“I don’t have a single clue,” he said. He looked westward toward the island. East Port was almost visible from their location, and it appeared a couple of the Coast Guard vessels were approaching that area. “There might be something happening on the island.”
“Could be,” Napier said. He watched as a couple vessels were clearly heading northeast. There was only one thing of interest northeast of Mako’s Center, and that was Mako’s Edge. Then a thought suddenly lit up in his mind. “There was a Coast Guard vessel that was working with our police department in an effort to locate Hogan’s boat,” he said. “I wonder if this has something to do with that.”
“Oh, hell,” Wayne cursed. “What if that vessel hit a rock and sunk too? We’ll have the Guard here for a week.” Napier shook his head in disagreement.
“They wouldn’t send a cutter for that,” he explained. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He wanted to head into port to find out what was going on. “Let’s hurry up and bring in this net. Then we’ll figure out what this is all about.”
********
Napier didn’t dwell on the fact that the east net contained even less catch than the other net, which would result in another tiny paycheck when money was needed the most. This particular occurrence with the Coast Guard had really intrigued him, and he wanted to get in touch with Chief Bondy. He steered the Catcher into its usual position in East Port, and after bringing it to a stop he realized Mr. Gary was nowhere to be seen. Then it struck him that he forgot to give him a phone call stating that he was on his way into the dock. He was too interested in what was going on around the island. He could see the chief’s black police pickup in the large square-shaped parking area. Down in the sandy area was the chief himself, talking to a gentleman in a white uniform. Throughout the beach were other individuals, wearing blue uniforms, who appeared to be keeping curious onlookers at bay. Napier stepped out of the cabin and looked down at Wayne, who stood on the main deck.
“Hey Wayne,” he called down. Wayne looked up at him, giving his attention. “Would you give Mr. Gary a call for me please and tell him we’re ready for him to pick up these fish. It totally slipped my mind.”
“Sure thing,” Wayne said. He knew his boss was curious as to what was going on. Napier climbed down his ladder and stepped onto the dock that he parked next to. He began to approach Bondy, but carefully due to the fact that he wasn’t sure if he’d be stopped by any Coast Guard personnel. Not standing too far away from the chief was Deputy Drake, who was standing beside two Coast Guard personnel, one of which was a woman with red hair. The other was a towering individual who stood nearly a foot taller than the deputy. Even at the distance he was away from them, Napier
could see the tired expressions in each person’s face, implying they had either had a long night, or simply didn’t get their morning coffee. Napier neared to within twenty feet of Bondy when two Coast Guard personnel stepped in front of him from the left, seemingly out of nowhere. Both men had a large muscular physique, and appeared more like bouncers working in a local bar had it not been for the Coast Guard uniforms they wore. They each held up a hand, signaling for Napier to stop.
“Excuse us, sir,” one of them said. “We’re going to have to ask you to turn back, please. There is official business being conducted here.”
“He’s okay! Let him pass!” Bondy’s voice called out. The two men stepped aside and allowed Napier to continue walking up to the chief. The other individual appeared to be a high ranking member of the Coast Guard. He looked to be aging around fifty, had a thick mustache, stood at about six foot even, and wore several medals on the left breast of his white uniform jacket.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Napier said. He immediately noticed the serious expressions in both men before any words were spoken by either one. The Coast Guard individual gave Napier a strict stare, wondering why a civilian was interfering with a formal discussion.
“Who the hell is this?” he demanded to know from Bondy.
“Commander,” the chief began, “this is Rick Napier. He’s a unique fisherman around these parts with a distinct knowledge of the sea. I suppose you can say I’ve unofficially deputized him. He’s helped me on occasions in which I’ve been shorthanded.” He turned to face Rick. “This is Commander James Tracy.”
“How do you do, sir?” Napier extended his hand.
“Hello, Mr. Napier,” Commander Tracy greeted back. “I hope you’ll pardon my rudeness a second ago. I didn’t realize you were a helping hand to the Chief here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Napier said. “So what’s going on here? Why all the Coast Guard boats, as well as a Coast Guard cutter?” There was a brief moment of silence, as if Bondy and Tracy were trying to decide who should answer.
“There was another unfortunate incident last night at Mako’s Edge,” Bondy spoke up. “One of the divers that was searching for Hogan’s boat was killed.”
“My goodness,” Napier exclaimed. “What in the hell happened?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Tracy said.
“Did the other divers give any testimony as to what happened?” Napier said. There was another pause from the Commander and the Chief. Tracy crossed his arms and breathed a deep sigh.
“I suppose you could say that,” he said. He glanced over at the individuals standing near Deputy Drake, particularly the woman. His eyes returned to their stern expression. He looked back to Napier. “But I don’t suppose it’s anything we can go on.” His tone clearly indicated that the debriefing he received of the incident was insufficient to his liking. Napier was almost nervous to ask his next question.
“Well…what did they say?” he looked to Bondy to answer this one. He too appeared disgruntled as to what the answer was.
“According to the Lieutenant, they continued diving late into the night. They were supposedly wrapping up their search when one of the divers…” he stopped, as if he didn’t want to finish the story. Both his and Tracy’s facial expressions spelled disbelief for what he was going to explain next. “The Lieutenant thinks she saw some sort of sea creature under the water in Mako’s Edge. She claims it was like an octopus or something.”
“The word ‘Behemoth’ was used,” Tracy added. “Personally, I think it’s all horseshit. They had already been out way longer than they should have. And in those weather conditions, they should’ve called off the search sooner anyway.”
“But that’s why we have so many vessels out here,” said Bondy. “The high ranking U.S. military officials freaked when they heard the report of a massive object under the water. And who was even more freaked were the politicians. Apparently they’re more worried that it could be a North Korean submarine, or something-- even though these waters are a bit too shallow for something like that. But that’s Washington for you.” Finally, it made sense to Napier why there was a massive Coast Guard cutter off the coast of Mako’s Center.
“We’ve got several cruisers out there doing a radar scope of the area,” Tracy continued. “So far, nothing’s been reported.” Napier now understood why the Commander appeared aggravated by this whole event, beyond the obvious fact that a lost Coast Guard diver was no laughing matter. The story given by the Lieutenant of last night’s operation sparked a massive Coast Guard investigation that required many expensive resources, including the cutter. And now it was beginning to appear that it was all for nothing. A commotion from the crowd gathered the attention from the three individuals. The crowd had split in half to make way for the mayor and his suited staff, who walked from the parking lot onto the sandy beach. Mayor Chuck Graford was just a bit older than the Commander, but his features made him appear much older. His head was balding, leaving a horseshoe shaped curve of hair on the sides and back of his head. He wore a grey suit and blue tie, and didn’t seem to mind getting sand onto his black dress shoes.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he greeted.
“Hello, sir,” Bondy said. “Sir, I’d like to introduce to you Commander James Tracy. He’s in charge of the operation.” Bondy always took a very formal tone when around the mayor, who was the very individual who appointed him chief and was the only person who had any real authority over him on the island.
“Pleasure to meet you, Commander,” Mayor Graford said. He always had a very enthusiastic tone to his voice. Bondy always figured he thought of himself as a celebrity entertainer rather than a town politician. He shook the Commander’s hand and then observed the Coast Guard vessels in the area. “So is there anything to report regarding this?” This question was directed at Bondy.
“So far, nothing,” the chief said. The mayor looked to the Commander.
“How much longer do you think you’ll need, Commander?” he asked. “We’ve got a big week ahead of us, business-wise. There is a fishing tournament taking place tomorrow. We’ll have many fishermen from all over the world coming to this location to snag the big one. In addition, they’ll be bringing their families, which means the beaches are going to be flooding with tourists.” The Commander had to keep his composure when dealing with politicians, especially ones who couldn’t seem to take into account the reason behind the investigation.
“We’ll probably move out by the end of the day,” Tracy said.
“Sir,” Bondy cut in. “Just to be on the safe side, I’m gonna have all of my deputies on duty tomorrow.” The mayor chuckled.
“That’s perfectly fine,” he said. “Well, as long as this is over with by tonight, then tomorrow’s event will be perfectly set to go. Keep up the good work, gentlemen.” He turned around and headed back to his limousine, followed by his staff. It was common for him to make these brief appearances. Just enough time for someone to snap a picture for the local newspaper and make it appear he was doing all he could to assist in the investigation. Commander Tracy continued his bitter stare even after Graford was out of sight.
“Of course he doesn’t give a shit that someone is dead,” he said. Bondy, on the other hand, had no problem expressing his relief that the mayor took off.
“I’m just happy he didn’t stick around long enough for us to have to explain Lieutenant Lisa Thompson’s report.” Napier, who had stepped aside when the mayor arrived to speak with the two officials, suddenly looked up with extreme interest. There was familiarity with that name, Lisa Thompson.
“Excuse me,” he interrupted, “You said ‘Lisa Thompson’?”
“That’s correct,” Tracy said, pointing in her direction. She was the redhead Coast Guard woman standing near Drake. Napier immediately recognized her. Memories flooded back into Napier’s mind. Thompson was his high school sweetheart, before Katherine. They had dated throughout most of his four years of high school, up un
til prom, during which he took a somewhat adulterous turn in his life when he dumped her to be with Katherine. Seeing Lisa as a mature woman rather than a teenage girlfriend in high school was…different. She appeared… almost more beautiful.
“Wow,” he said. Luckily, Tracy and Bondy were caught up in their own conversation, and didn’t seem to notice Napier’s silent staring. “I’m going to talk to Deputy Drake,” he said. It was really just an excuse to get closer to the Lieutenant. A quiet voice in his mind warned him that there was no luck to be had. After dumping her for Katherine the way he did, it wouldn’t be surprising if Lisa wouldn’t be too pleased to see him. He remembered their breakup. It mainly consisted of a sobbing Lisa Thompson throwing things at him after learning of his unfaithfulness to the relationship. He mentally argued against that voice in his brain. I was young. I was a damned teenager. Plus, I ended up marrying the woman I left her for, so therefore I have no regrets. “Hello, Deputy,” he called out to Drake, although his attention was mainly on Thompson.
“Hi, Rick,” Drake said.
“So I hear you’ve had a rough night. Finding sea monsters out near Mako’s Edge are we?” he joked. Immediately, he mentally scolded himself for making that remark, as he momentarily forgot it was Lisa’s debriefing that suggested that the diver had been killed by a creature in the water. Not exactly what I had in mind to start this out, he thought. Deputy Drake leaned in close, trying to keep his voice down as to not offend the Lieutenant.
“I’m honestly clueless as to what happened,” he said. “One minute we’re getting ready to come on home, the next minute she’s screaming that something in the water killed Denning.”
“Hey jackass!” Thompson shouted out. Neither Drake nor Napier was certain which of them she was yelling at. “What about the thing that hit your boat?!”
“Listen, Lieutenant,” Drake started. “Did you even pay attention to the waters surrounding Mako’s Edge? I’m lucky I didn’t smash into any rocks in my hurry to get you out of the water.”
