‘If you can’t make it, don’t bother.’
He slammed the door and gunned the engine. As I turned back towards the gangway I heard him peeling out, spinning his wheels as he left the lot.
On the Western Lady, Albert had come down from the wheelhouse and was helping Sugar lower the Transvac hose into the hold. I hopped onto a bollard and used that as a stepladder to clamber back over the gunnel of the Lady.
‘I got this, Albert,’ I said.
‘You sure? Because I can take over if you want to play with your friend.’
‘No, no – it’s all good.’
He grunted and stepped aside. The hose was about a foot in diameter and made of ribbed plastic. I positioned it so that the mouth dipped six inches into the soup of herring, then nodded at Sugar. He began blasting away with the water and we signalled for the dock workers to fire up the pump. The hose started to buck in my arms, wiggling amid the herring and snorting them up like the long nose of an anteater. The dark bodies flashed through the funnel, on their way to the sorter and the bins and a better place.
At around five we clocked off. Sugar went to clean himself up in the cannery washrooms, but I needed to talk to Albert. I took off my slicker and gloves and moseyed on into the galley. Evelyn, Albert’s wife, was standing at the stove, stirring something in a steel pot. She was a big lady, low-built and wide-hipped, and when we set our nets she directed us on deck while Albert navigated. She was pretty much the second-in-command on the Lady. Albert, he liked to joke that she was actually the head honcho, the big chief.
‘Smells good, Evelyn.’
‘You don’t.’
‘I know it.’ Even without the slicker, I still stank of herring. ‘What you got on there?’
‘Beef stew, and an apple pie.’
‘Hot damn.’
‘You mean hot darn.’ She pointed at me with her spoon. ‘Tracy’s coming for dinner.’
Tracy was their youngest daughter. She’d worked on the boat when I first started but had taken this season off to train for her sea captain’s certificate.
I said, ‘She mentioned something about that.’
‘She say anything else?’
‘What else might she have said?’
Evelyn smiled, and shook her head. ‘Just something we been talking about.’
She sounded sly, secretive, and raised a spoon of stew to give it a taste. She smacked her tongue theatrically, making it clear she intended to leave me wondering.
‘Say,’ I said, as if it had just occurred to me. ‘Is Albert about?’
‘Down in the engine room.’
‘Still at it.’
‘Always.’
I kicked off my boots and headed that way, down the short hall between the two cabins where we slept – one for Albert and Evelyn, one for us grunts – and down a short stepladder. The engine room was divided from the rest of the boat by a hatch, which was ajar. I pushed it open. Inside it was cramped and low and you had to hunch over as you walked to avoid cracking your head. Albert was lying on his back, shining a flashlight at the underside of some pipework.
‘Problems, Captain?’
‘Nothing that ain’t fixable. Leaking a bit of coolant.’
I hunkered down beside him, squatting on my haunches, and watched him work for a bit. He reached for a wrench lying next to him, fitted it to a nut on one of the pipes, and gave it a twist. He held his palm beneath the joint, waiting to see if that had done the trick.
‘Need a hand?’ I asked.
‘I’ll tell you when you get around to asking whatever it is you want to ask.’
‘Okay, then.’ I sat for a time, staring at the joint rather than Albert. ‘That fellow in the truck today – that was my brother.’
‘The troublemaker.’
‘He ain’t all that bad.’
‘Thought he did time in Ferndale.’
‘That was a while back.’
‘And?’
There was an oil rag on the floor at my feet. I picked that up and began wrapping it around my bad hand, for no real reason.
‘He’s only in town for a day, and wants to see me tonight.’
‘You don’t get shore leave till Saturday.’
‘I know that.’
‘Nobody leaves the boat until she’s in shape.’
‘I know that too.’
Albert shook his head and made a sound, sort of disgusted. At first I thought it was a reaction to what I’d asked, but he held up his hand, showing me the greenish glisten of coolant.
‘Washer must be shot.’
He went to work with his wrench again.
He said, ‘If I let you go, what do I tell the other guys?’
I didn’t have an answer to that, so I didn’t try.
‘Can’t very well let you go and keep them here.’
‘No sir. Reckon not.’
‘But you want me to make an exception, so you can meet your no-good brother.’