Against the Sea: Tales On and Under the Sea

by John E. Christ

  The captain looked and smiled at me. There was something he was thinking that he had not told me. I was dying of curiosity what could be secret.

  “You’re hiding something from me,” I said boldly. “I want you to tell me what’s wrong, as a friend. I don’t want to order you to tell me.”

  “There is no need,” the captain said slowly. “I’ve had to rest and think about it before I told you. It has to do with our encounter with the giant squids.”

  I had no idea what could possibly be important enough to keep secret. The Atum Bom had performed well. In fact it performed better than I would have thought, had I imagined the scenario in advance. Perhaps we had suffered some damage I was totally unaware. I almost expected him to say our mission was ended and we would be returning to port.

  “What is it?” I was more curious by the second. “What could be so secret you could not tell me right away?”

  “I think you will have to see before I can adequately explain it to you,” the captain said. “Watch the view screen. I’m going to replay the attack of the giant squid and our rescue by those whales.” He pressed a button on his chair.

  I suddenly felt transported back to our encounter except the deck was stable below my feet. The scene I saw on the bridge barely a day ago felt real, however, this time I had the luxury of being an observer rather than a participant in a struggle for survival. I looked in the direction which the captain gazed. I was not sure what I was looking for or what to expect.

  “Matthew, watch carefully,” the captain said. “I’ve reviewed this over and over while you were asleep. I think once you see it you will understand.”

  I was more curious than ever. I watched the giant tentacles pass across the screen. The first whale came into view, then another. At this point, the captain stopped the tape. I examined the whales more closely. There was something about them that did not seem right. The captain adjusted the image so one of the whales was magnified. At once I understood what the captain was concerned about.

  “Am I seeing that correctly?” I gasped. “Those are real…”

  “No, they are not real whales,” the captain interrupted. “We were saved by manned crafts.”

  I stood up to look closer. The so-called eyes of the whales were actually portholes in which I could barely make the outlines of a humanoid figure. I turned slowly and faced the captain who now stood and faced me.

  “I understand.” I smiled.

  “We’re going back,” the captain said after a thoughtful pause. “If we can make contact with those whales, you can be sure that the Atum Bom has ushered in a new age.”

  I knew the captain had made a pun. That was excusable. What was more important was his prophecy would come true. I could hardly wait to get back.

  The Eye Exam

  The air was filled with the cacophonous rumble of diesel engines promptly at 9 AM. The fleet of party boats, one by one, edged out into the intra-coastal waterway, heading toward the cut exiting out into the ocean. Only the sixth (and last out) did not follow the rest to the fishing grounds. The last boat remained within the waterway heading south toward the Miami River. At the beginning and the end of every season there was necessary preventive maintenance before business picked up again. Dad was at his usual authoritative place at the helm directing the boat with his countless years of experience. He nudged the twin throttles forward with a bump of his right palm. The boat moved slightly faster as it entered a wider part of the waterway.

  Hank adjusted the glasses on his nose and grinned in a way that was hard to describe. He picked up a bucket that was partially filled with a half and half mixture of turpentine and linseed oil. He pointed at John with a free hand.

  “Take this up front and work back from there,” Hank said flatly. “You come down on this side. I’ll have Billy come down the other.”

  The instructions were simple enough, John thought without really thinking. By growing up in the business, everything was more or less second nature. He nodded he understood and motioned to Bill, his brother, to get started.

  “I’ll go this way. You take the other side.”

  “Okay.” Bill picked up a bucket. “We’ll be finished before we get downtown.”

  John turned and looked south at the city. The mouth of the river was hidden by several bridges and causeways between where they were and their destination.

  “That’s a fair bet.” John smiled. “Shall we see who gets done first?”

  Before Bill could answer, Hank butted in. “Youse boys just do as your father says and do a good job. I’ll start back here. Now, get going.”

  “Right,” John said quickly. Bill remained quiet and went to the bow.

  The late summer sun beat down raising the temperature on the deck to a point that it was almost impossible to touch. The boys stripped off their shirts and got on knees with buckets beside them. Bill threw an old towel into the mixture, pulled it out dripping and tossed it on the dry mahogany planks. John did the same and began wiping from the tip of the bow to the stern.

  “I’ll bet I finish before you do.” Bill laughed as he slopped the deck. He painted the deck back and forth with broad sweeps of a wet towel.

  “Dad wants a good job.” John did not look up. “A race is good only if we do a good job.”

  “Good.” Bill slopped the deck faster. “I’m sure to beat you!”

  “It’s really not important.” John sighed as he watched Bill splash everywhere. An argument would do no good, he gritted his teeth. Better to do the job and finish than to stop and waste time.

  The deck was finished before going under the second bridge. The small stern area was completed and almost dry before John and Bill connected what they were doing with Hank’s area. They looked for Hank only to find him halfway up the side ladder talking to Dad in the pilot house.

  “What do we do next?” Bill jumped up onto the fish box.

  “Enjoy the ride.” John looked first at the mainland, then the Beach. There was a certain magical charm he felt about what he saw but could not express it in words. Pastels of pink, green and blue were splashed amongst brilliant whites. Homes with Spanish tiled roofs, some orange, others dirty white from mildew, dotted the shores. There was nothing else but the here and now. It felt like an eternity, indelibly fixed in time, and yet, there were changes about to happen. He not only knew it, he deeply felt it.

  “When I am twenty-one, I am going to get my captain’s license,” Bill said loudly. “I want to take the boat out by myself.”

  “You will,” John said slowly.

  “Hank said he was studying to be a captain, too.” Bill pointed at Hank’s flat ass staring at them from the ladder.

  “So he says.” John shook his head. “But I’m going to get my license first. I’ve been studying all summer and I think I’m smart enough to pass it the first time I take it.”

  “And I’ll get my license before Hank, too.” Bill grinned.

  “Except, you have to wait another three and a half years to be eligible..." John smiled. “Even so, I guess you could beat Hank.”

  “What about the eye test? Do you think you can pass it?” Bill said slowly. “Dad says we may have to have special permission to get our licenses.”

  “That’s what Dad told me,” John said softly. “I’m a little worried about that part. If I can’t pass, then I’ll never get up in the wheelhouse where I can make more money with less work.”

  “Someday, we both will,” Bill said quickly. “In the meantime, we can work together and send Dad home. While he sleeps with his bottom to the TV, we’ll be out here by ourselves.”

  “Yes, it’ll be nice to actually grow up and act on our own for a change. I hate to get yelled at. I know Dad gets mad quickly, but he also forgets equally fast. Even so I’ll be glad to get away from all that. And I promise never to yell at you.”

  “Yeah...” Bill exhaled. “And maybe we will both be able to make more money. We'll be able to split the commissions on mounts!”

&n
bsp; “Does that mean you’ll split the tips, too?” John laughed. “...or do we keep what we get to ourselves?”

  “What we get to ourselves! If I do all the work, I should get paid for it!”

  “Remember, a few weeks ago when we were out night fishing and we sold triggerfish for snapper?” John smiled. “I couldn’t believe how easy it was.”

  “And I can sell just about anything.” Bill grinned. “You put it in my hands and I can get money for it.”

  “I know you can.” John sighed. “You have that magic gift to sell. I wish I could do that as easily as you.”

  Three blasts from the horn topside along with a slowing of forward motion alerted them to the first bridge to be raised, pass under, and through. The exhausts rumbled deeply in idle as the middle of the bridge inched skyward. Dad kicked the engines back in gear regaining forward motion toward the opening bridge. The bridge tender in his cracker box station waved as they passed through. Once clear of the bridge, Dad pushed the throttles back to their original cruise position while the bridge behind them slowly dropped back to its closed position. John looked south and could see the downtown Miami skyline.

  “Today is the day, isn’t it?” Hank pulled out a cigarette and put it between his lips.

  “After we get settled at the boat yard Dad and I are going downtown to the Coast Guard so I can take my test,” John said confidently. “If I pass, I take the eye exam and I get my license.”

  Hank struggled with a book match cupped between his hands. He lit the cigarette after the third match. He took a long drag and exhaled smoke through his mouth and nostrils as he spoke.

  “The old man is really counting on you,” Hank said lazily. “He expects you to give him a real break.”

  “I know.” John stared at Hank. “It’s really been a hard summer for us running three trips a day without help.”

  “Your old man needs the money,” Hank drawled. “If he doesn’t make it during the summer season, he doesn’t make it at all.”

  “I understand that,” John said. “I really expect to help out as a captain. I know as much about fishing as he does.”

  Hank took another long drag and snickered. John could never really understand who Hank really was. The potbellied man with dark sunglasses was forever an enigma because he never really let anyone inside his head. His biggest asset was that he always showed up to work on time.

  “It’s been a good summer,” Hank said between his teeth. “Your Dad has really worked hard. If you had not run the boat in the afternoon while he slept, it wouldn’t have been possible.”

  “And, if I hadn’t worked in the morning, you wouldn’t have been able to do it,” Bill interrupted. “I worked hard, too.”

  “The only part about it was working all afternoon then working half the night,” John said. “Most of the time I got to bed about two in the morning. I’m glad I was able to sleep late and come in when the boat returned from the morning trip.”

  “You and Dad got home late because you went to Dobb’s House and ate pecan waffles every night,” Bill said sadly. “By working in the day, I can’t do that.”

  “That’s not true.” John stiffened. “You can work three trips just like Dad.”

  Bill thought a moment and shook his head. The idea did not appeal to him at all. Maybe he would do it once in a while for extra money, but that would be the limit of it. He had other ways to spend his time.

  “Johnny!”

  “The old man wants you.” Hank grinned. “Probably can’t stand to be alone up there knowing we are all down here.”

  “I’ll go.” John glared at Hank. “Maybe I can hold the wheel for a while.”

  Before Dad called a second time, John was up the ladder in the pilothouse standing next to him. At first, Dad simply gazed forward out toward the front of the bow. He then checked the instruments and controls before he acknowledged he was no longer alone. John knew there was little to be said until Dad was ready.

  “Johnny, take the wheel while I go take a leak. Just keep your eyes open and don’t hit anything.”

  “Okay, Dad. You can trust me.”

  Without another word, Dad was gone and John was left alone. He grasped the spokes of the wheel in his hands; he was in control and it felt good. Like his Dad, he checked the instruments and controls. He nudged the throttles adding another 100 RPMs to each engine. It was awesome to have control of such a big boat. Sure there were bigger, but this was a start to something bigger and better. John scanned the water ahead of the bow first, and looked around in a complete circle. The name of the boat brought him a true sense of pride. The Hurricane was a sixty-five foot wooden masterpiece as far as he was concerned. He hoped one day he could own a boat exactly like this one. Of course, college would bring a different profession from Dad’s, but that did not mean he could not own a big boat for his own pleasure. With his license, there were all sorts of possibilities open with boats in the future. Now, if he could only pass the eye exam.

  “Step aside.” Dad returned to the pilothouse. “We're almost to the River.”

  “Dad, do you think I’ll pass the eye exam?”

  “We’ll have to see.” Dad laughed. He did not recognize his own joke. “If you have trouble, we'll have to get an exemption.”

  Before John could say another word, Dad was blowing the horn to open the bridge at the mouth of the Miami River. Traffic was stopped, the middle span opened and they passed through without any fanfare. The trip to the shipyard was quite short in the narrow River. Dad remained mute and attentive, holding the wheel while biting his lips. At this point, it was a waste of time talking. As the shipyard came into view, John was motioned to help Hank and Bill secure lines to the dock.

  Back on deck, John stood near the stern while Hank was on the bow with a long gaff in hand. Dad nosed the bow into the current edging slowly toward the dock. A boat yard worker noticed the approach of the Hurricane and came on the dock to hand out securing lines. Once the bow line was tied, the boat gently drifted against the dock and John tied the stern. Seeing bow and stern secured, Dad cut off the engines and came down on deck. Hank continued securing the boat with two crossing spring lines.

  “You’re right on time,” the yard worker said. “Give us a few minutes and we will have you hauled out of the water. Did you bring the paint with you?”

  “I’ve got it all with me,” Dad said. “Can I use your phone to call my wife to come get us?”

  “Sure, I think you know where it is.”

  Dad disappeared into the dockyard office as a crew of three workers readied the cradle to haul the Hurricane out of the water. When Dad returned, he got back on the boat, had the dock lines released and under minimal maneuvering power positioned the boat on the lift cradle. The yard workers made adjustments to the cradle and waved to cut the engines. The cradle lifted the Hurricane slowly as it was pulled up its inclined rails. Out of the water the boat appeared almost 3 times its size in the water. Dad climbed down a ladder placed at the stern. Without saying a word, he began his own inspection of rudders, propellers, struts and hull. He quickly noticed several zincs were missing and made a mental note to replace them. As a part of his inspection he examined the worm shoe as best as he could. What he finally saw was relatively inexpensive to replace. He expected everything he wanted done could be completed in a single day. Mom arrived shortly after he was finished.

  “Are you boys ready to go?” Mom had an ever present smile in her voice.

  “We are finished for now.” Dad went straight for the driver’s seat. “Everybody get in; I want to get downtown in plenty of time.”

  “When you get back, I’ll have lunch ready.” Mom took her place next to Dad.

  The ride home was quiet and easy since all of the morning rush traffic was gone. The powder blue 64 Dodge had a radio Dad never turned on for reasons no one understood or bothered to ask. At home, John managed a shower and got redressed. As soon as he was ready Dad had him back in the car on the way to the Coast Guard offic
e.

  “What sort of test did you have to take when you got your license, Dad?”

  “In the beginning no one had to have a license,” Dad said matter-of-factly. “But somewhere up in New York or New Jersey a party boat called the Pelican sank and they decided to start examining everyone. I never had any problem getting my license since I had always been around boats. The exam you’re going to take is completely new. I really don’t think with all of your studying you’re going to have any problem passing.”

  “If some of the guys around the docks can do it, so can I,” John said. “In fact, it’s hard to believe who got their licenses recently.”

  “Except, that you have more experience handling a boat,” Dad said proudly.

  “When do I have to take the eye exam?”

  “First, you take the written test, I will certify your experience,” Dad said warmly. “Everything will happen as we planned it today.”

  John could not bring himself to tell Dad he was a little nervous. He had taken innumerable tests in school, including college, but this was different. He felt he had to measure up to Dad’s expectations. There was no excuse for failure. All of Dad's side of the family were fishermen. To be a part of the family one had to be in command of the sea. What would Dad think if he failed? John did not want to think about it. There was no room to think about anything but the examinations. The written tests would be easy. He had studied all summer and was well prepared. The problem remained how he would pass the eye exam. Without glasses he considered himself hopelessly blind. He hoped for a miracle.

  The Coast Guard was located in a nondescript monolithic government building. Both the outside and inside were painted in sober tans that lacked human imagination. Upon entering the building Dad led John directly to the correct departmental office. There was no delay in registering for the written exam. Within minutes, John was sitting in a room with three other men. The test had ten parts of ten multiple choice questions each, plus a navigation problem.