Rachel and Otto took off in the Crabby Patty around 16:00 to check the first traps. It had been about eight stans and they thought it might tell them something about the utility of the traps. Normally, they figured to check the traps once a day, or even once every other day, depending on the take. Rachel powered the boat over to the first buoy and showed Otto how to use the gaff to catch the rope under the buoy, rather than trying to hook the ring on the top, or worse, stab it. He soon mastered the technique of flipping a couple loops of line around the winch head and pulling on the line to give it bite. The powered assistance of the machine didn’t mean he didn’t have to pull at all, only that he didn’t need to pull as much. Rachel kept the boat swung away from the line as the first trap came up from the bottom of the bay. In a tick or so, they saw the small float that kept the last two meters of line off the bottom and Otto got the winch slowed in time that he didn’t crush it, stopping just short of pulling the float through the mechanism.
They could see the pot just under the surface and Rachel said, “Just grab the rope there below the toggle and pull it up the rest of the way by hand.”
Otto reached over and heaved on the line. The heavy crab pot felt like it was made of lead without the help of the winch. He got it up close enough to grab the frame and slide the whole thing up, over the rail and into the boat in one smooth, if not particularly graceful movement. It thumped to the deck. Salt water drained from the soggy pot and flowed aft to toward the scuppers.
They stared at the writhing mass of crabs, claws, pincers, and legs that were caught in the trap.
“I don’t think we brought enough boxes,” Rachel said.
It took a while, but they managed to empty the pot, and re-bait it, dropping it back over the side more or less where it had started.
Otto watched it sink as Rachel headed for the next buoy. The second trap went more smoothly but it was just as full. By the time they’d pulled the fifth trap, they’d filled the three fish boxes they’d brought.
Rather than go on, Rachel spun the wheel over and headed back to the pier for more boxes.
By the time they got there, Mary was standing on the pier in her apron, obviously just having come from The Gurry Butt. “What’s the matter? I saw you pull that number five trap from the pub and come back. Is there a problem?”
Rachel grinned. “Yeah. I don’t want loose crabs runnin’ all over my boat. I need some more fish boxes.” She dropped the throttles briefly into reverse to slow their forward momentum and Otto stepped onto the dock with a short line.
“Be right back.” Otto galumphed up the dock in his fish boots, heading for the shed where the empty boxes were stashed. He grabbed five more empty ones and was halfway back before Mary recovered.
“You got all those in just the first five pots?” she finally managed to ask.
“Yes. And if your theory is right about the ledges, we’re gonna get a lot more before we’re done.” Seeing Otto clamber back aboard with the boxes, she asked, “Are five enough?”
He chuckled. “I hope so, but we’d better take a lot more when we go out in the morning.”
“See you in a bit,” Mary said as she waved.
Otto flipped the line off the cleat and Rachel eased away from the dock, turned into the channel and skipped across the bay to the number six pot. It took them almost a full stan to finish pulling, emptying and resetting the pots, but in the end, the five boxes were just enough. Rachel kept looking over her shoulder at the stacked boxes in the back of the boat.
When they got back to the dock, they found a crowd waiting. It was late enough in the day that the fleet was all in, so there were plenty of curious fishermen. Some of The Gurry Butt patrons had brought their beer glasses down to the pier to see what Mary was looking at. Alan Thomas stood right in front with a big grin plastered across his face.
Rachel eased into the dock and Otto did a pretty good deckhand imitation as he ran the lines out fore and aft with a spring line to hold them close to the dock. The two of them hefted the heavy boxes of wriggling crabs out onto the dock until all eight were lined up there.
The gathered throng admired the haul and Alan never stopped beaming. Mary just tsk’ed and kept shaking her head walking from box to box to box, looking them over. In the end, the onlookers all volunteered to take the flats up to the weigh-station to find out how many crabs it was, exactly. When the tallies were all done and the fish box tare weights subtracted, the haul came in at just under a hundred kilograms.
“I wonder if Rosie’s ready for that many crabs,” Alan said to the gathered group.
A woman’s voice came from the back of the crowd somewhere. “Darn right, I am. You people bring ’em over and we’ll have a party.”
The boxes of crabs and the crowd evaporated off in the direction of Rosie’s Diner, disappearing like fog in a windstorm. Alan, Rachel, and Otto were left. Otto had a bemused expression on his face, but looked a bit out of place without his staff. Rachel was still in a state of euphoria but Alan looked at once pleased and puzzled.
“We need to work out how to pay you for this. We don’t have rates on crabs.”
“That’s easy enough to deal with,” Rachel said. “You just keep paying me skipper’s pay and credit me with the landing weight. This season is a trial. We’ll have a fully developed crab fishery here in another stanyer or two. You gave me a boat and the gear, just like any other skipper. We’ll get this up and running so you can figure the rates then you can pay everybody.”
“That seems fair enough. Jimmy’s main goal is to get a handle on what kind of fishery we got with these things. It’ll take a lot of pots to land a megaton, but crab is also a premium product that we really haven’t had before.”
“You can do one thing that’ll help in the long run,” Rachel said. “Order a crab processing unit. We can pick out a few by hand easily enough, but when we start landing a kiloton or more a day, you’re not gonna want that to be a manual process. And when others get wind of this, I can see where there may be a problem with simply freezing them.”
“Good idea. Now let’s go eat some crab.”
The party was in full bore with beer from The Gurry Butt, crabs on a big impromptu fire-pit on the shore, and even music and dancing. As the sun slipped behind the headland to the west, the crabs were pulled out, dissected, and consumed in record numbers. They were, everyone agreed, delicious.
When the party wound down, the trash picked up, and the fire-pit doused, Richard, Rachel, and Otto headed back to the cottage. Rachel thought Richard was a tad withdrawn, but smiled readily enough and had joined in the dancing. It was like he had something on his mind, but wasn’t sure how to deal with it. She hugged his arm and walked with him, holding tight to him and enjoying his presence.
When they got to the cottage, Otto led the way inside followed by Rachel, but Richard hung back.
Seeing him linger, Rachel stopped at the door and pulled it closed again, giving them a modicum of privacy. She walked back, hugged him around the waist, and looked up into this twinkling eyes. “Is everything okay, dear one?”
Richard smiled down to her. “Yeah, I think so. I just need to listen to the world a bit more. I seem to have a lot of catching up to do.”
“You’re changed since the accident. Do you know?”
“Yes, I know.” After a moment he asked, “Is it difficult for you?”
She snorted a soft laugh. “Not in the least. You’re more the you I thought you were now than at any time in your life.” She blinked as she tried to understand what it was she’d said.
He chuckled deep in his chest and hugged her tight. “I think so, too.” After a few heartbeats, he asked, “Would you mind if I went back to sea this season?”
She pulled back and looked up at him. “Back to sea? No, of course not, but what are you thinking of doing? With half the fleet tied up at any given time, you’ll be hard pressed to find a slot. Other than on the Crabby Patty. I’ll always have a berth for you.”
&nbs
p; He got a faraway look in his eyes and cocked his head as if listening to the trees sighing in the wind above their heads. “I don’t know. Exactly,” he said in a tone that had a kind of dreamy feel to it. “Jimmy is doing something. I think I’d like to help him for the season.”
“You’re going to the Inlet? For the rest of the season? Are you leaving me?” she asked, suddenly scared. Had he gotten so changed that he—
“No. I mean, yes, to the Inlet. No, probably not for the whole rest of the season. Maybe only for a couple of weeks. And I’m certainly not leaving you.” He got that ‘listening to something else’ look again. “I’m not ready to go yet. I just wanted to talk to you before it becomes a problem.”
Rachel felt troubled, but also oddly comforted, by his words. “Of course, dear,” She hugged him tightly once more. “Thank you for talking to me, and while I might not understand it, you do what you need to do. Just try to keep me in the loop as to where you are.”
“Where I am,” he said in that dreaming voice that was, quite frankly, beginning to weird Rachel out just a bit. He snapped back from wherever he was. “I’m not leaving you. It’s just that Jimmy has a big project going on and there’s no shaman at the Inlet.”
“Oh, shaman business? You shoulda just said so. All I care is that you come home to me. Sooner rather than later.” She leaned back so she could look up into his face.
He grinned. “Okay, I can do that.”
She pulled out of his hug and headed for the door. “You gonna go carve a little before bed?”
“Yes, I have a seal that I want to finish up.”
She smiled from the stoop as she opened the door. “Don’t stay up too late. Even shamans need sleep.”
He grinned, waved, and headed off into the dimness that was the shaman’s workshop.
Chapter Forty-Four
Aram’s Inlet
June 1, 2305
Jimmy walked across the brow and onto the big dorm barge. Forty meters long, twenty wide, and five meters from the keel to the top of the rail, it looked like nothing if not the huge houseboat, which it was. Jake had brought down some of the Orbital expertise to build what was in effect a very compact berthing area for up to ninety people. With two crews for each dragger, and the staff of the processing plant, plus a few extras, it was going to be snug, but with half the dragger crews off the barge at a time, there wouldn’t be that often when everybody was on the barge itself.
He stepped into the huge mess deck that ran almost the full width of the front of the barge. They’d talked about dividing the dormitories into two areas with the mess deck between, but the Orbital engineers had stock units that fit the space perfectly so they went with what was fastest. They’d have the whole winter to rebuild it, if need be. Everything looked very comfortable, cheerful, and new. That wouldn’t survive very long in the onslaught of rubber, scuffing, and horseplay that would inevitably ensue when the barge was moored. For the people out on the sea mount, this would be their living room, not that most of them would see much of it, but the panoramic view forward out across the harbor, and just above sea level was spectacular. The “glass” running across the front and wrapping around the sides were the same material that was used on the Orbital windows. It was shock mounted, water sealed, and rated to survive a direct assault with a ten-kilogram sledge.
It was also a shock when Jimmy turned to look out of them and saw Richard Krugg, complete with red poncho, standing at the bow and looking out over the bay. “What the–?” he said to himself and hurried back out onto the deck and around to where the shaman was standing.
“Hello, Jimmy. I’m Richard Krugg? I don’t know if you remember me. Please pardon my trespassing, but I wanted to bless the barge. I asked Mr. Samson if it would be alright.”
Jimmy shrugged. “No problem. It just startled me to look out and see you standing there. Am I interrupting?” The whole shaman thing always made Jimmy a bit uneasy. He was never sure how to deal with them and there’d never been one in Aram’s Inlet as far as he know.
Richard shook his head. “No, I’m done, but thank you for asking.” He turned to look back out over the harbor. After a moment he asked, “Do you have anybody to manage the dormitory while it’s out there?”
Jimmy blinked. “Manage the dormitory?”
Richard turned to look at him. “Yes. Somebody who’ll be in charge of making sure the meals are made and the maintenance is done? Make sure the trash is picked up? You know. Be in charge of keeping things running smoothly.”
Jimmy shook his head. “No, actually. We don’t. We’ve been too busy just putting it together to think about who’d run it.” They’d been so busy getting it built that he hadn’t even thought of how it would work once it was out on the mount.
“May I have the position?”
“You’d be out there for months.”
“I know,” Richard said.
“Why do you want to do it?”
Richard thought about it for a moment, his gaze focused somewhere else. “Because I want to listen to the world and that seems like a good place to listen from.”
“Listen for what?”
Richard’s eyes focused on him suddenly, just like that, one second not seeing and next second staring. Jimmy was a bit unnerved.
Richard grinned. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t have to listen, would I?”
He said it like it might have been a joke. He even chuckled a bit. Jimmy found himself chuckling along but he wasn’t sure it was a joke at all.
“Okay. Why not? It does need a manager and you’re here. That works for me. Let’s go see Jake and work out the details. We’re getting underway in a week so you’ll have a chance to get acquainted with it.”
“Good.” Richard started back toward the brow that lead down onto the dock.
As Jimmy turned to follow him, he noticed a wet spot on the rail where Richard’s hand had been. He touched it with his fingertip and when he looked, saw his finger had blood on it. He looked at the blood on the rail, and turned to look at Richard who was just stepping onto the dock.
“Now what have I done?” he asked himself quietly, but wiped his finger on his handkerchief and followed Richard off the barge.
They found Jake in the yard office. He smiled when Jimmy lead Richard in.
“Richard here wants to manage the dormitory while it’s out on the mount. I’ve hired him. You didn’t have anybody else in mind did you?” Jimmy said.
Jake shook his head. “No, I never even thought of it, tell ya the truth.”
That made Jimmy feel a little better. “I brought him down so you two can hash out the details of what has to happen and such.”
Jake nodded and held out his hand. “Welcome aboard, Richard.”
Richard took the offered hand and smiled. “Thanks. I think it’s going to be interesting.”
“Won’t ya wife be upset if you’re gone for a few months?” Jake asked.
Richard shrugged. “She knows I have my work. She’s busy catching all the crabs in Callum’s Cove at the moment and having fun. She’ll miss me, I hope, but she won’t be upset.”
Jake chuckled. “Well, mine would probably be happy to be rid of me for a few months, too, truth be told.” He looked Richard in the eye. “So? What do you know about running an operation like this?”
“Nothing, really. Seems like it’s mostly a question of a clear head, logical instructions, and a schedule that we keep. Knowing who to call for help when things go wrong.”
Jake grinned. “Well, recognizing when things are going wrong is a help, but I think we can work with ya on that. This is such an odd lash-up, I’m not sure anybody would know any better than you.”
“We have a week to get the kinks ironed out and for me to figure out which is the pointy end. Not like there’s much pointy end on a barge, but you know what I mean.”
Jake chuckled. “Yup, I do, indeed.”
“I’d like to move aboard now, if that’s possible? Nothing will turn up a problem fas
ter than a tenant. And it’ll give me that much more time to find my way around.”
Jake looked at Jimmy who shrugged in return. “Any mechanical reason why not?” Jimmy asked.
Jake shook his head. “It’s all supposed to be working. Some of it isn’t turned on, but we can go deal with that now, if you like.”
“Yes, please,” Richard said. “I don’t have anything else to do in town. I’d like to start right away.”
Jake grabbed a windbreaker and led the way back down the dock, Richard striding along beside. Jimmy was left at the office door, forgotten, as the two got their heads together over hiring staff, stocking the linens, and dealing with laundry. Jimmy grinned and left them happily discussing the barge, the requirements for keeping it going, and sundry other housekeeping tasks involving keeping the people on it happy, healthy, and working. As he watched them walk down the pier, Jimmy thought that having a shaman out there wasn’t necessarily going to be a bad thing. He left them to it and headed back to his office to check up on the progress of the other barges and to coordinate departures with the other yards.
Chapter Forty-Five
Callum’s Cove
September 27, 2305
Rachel smiled as Otto straightened up and arched his back to stretch out the muscles. A summer’s worth of teen age growth spurt had left him hanging out of his clothes in odd places and months of hefting heavy crab pots had added bulk to what would otherwise have been a gangly frame. A trick of the angle and the light made him look, for just a tick, like Richard, and she sighed.
“He’ll be home soon,” Otto said with a smile.
The uncanny empathy had only gotten more pronounced as the summer wore on. Of course, she thought to herself, it probably doesn’t take a mind reader to see I miss him.
“I know. Just been a long summer.”
South Coast (Shaman's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Page 27
