Alemi sniffed at the off‑shore breeze, redolent now of vegetable and exotic blossoms. He judged the wind would turn once they got out beyond the Paradise River channel. He didn't intend to sail far from land but, on the landside of the Great Southern Current, they were sure to find the redfins which frequented this part of the sea in great schools. Yesterday, Alemi had sent out the two smaller ships of his little fleet to meet those schools. As soon as the repairs to his bigger yawl had been completed, he and his crew would be join them.
Alemi was just as pleased to be on shore for Swacky's gather.
He might miss a day's fishing but until the main's'l had been mended, he was shore‑bound.
As they hit the rip at the channel mouth, the little skiff bucked and bounced. Readis' merry laugh burbled out of him, delighted with dipping and dumping. Not much phased the lad and he'd never fed the fishes once. Which was more than could be said for some grown men.
Then Alemi caught the sparkle and shine on the surface and, touching Readis' shoulder, pointed. The boy leaned against him and cast his eye along the extended arm, nodding excitedly as he, too, saw the school. So many fish trying to occupy the same space that they seemed to be flippering on each other's backs.
In a single‑minded action, both reached for the rods that had been stowed under the gunnels. These were sturdy rods of the finest bamboo, with reels of the stoutest tight‑stranded line, and hooks handfashioned by the Hold's Smithjourneyman, barbed to hold once sunk in the jaw of the wiliest redfin.
Twelve redfins, the length of a grown man's arm, were required for the evening's feasting. There would be roast wherry and succulent herdbeast but redfin was Swacky's favorite. He'd wanted to come along, Swacky had told Readis the night before, but he had to stay about and organize his gather or no‑one would do it the way he wanted.
Alemi let Readis bait his own hook with the innards of the shellfish redfins loved best. The boy's tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he manipulated the slimy mess securely on to the hook. He looked up at Alemi and saw the nod of approval. Then, with a deft cast for a boy his age, he sent the weighted hook, bait still attached, out across the starboard wake of the skiff. To give the boy a chance to make the first catch of the day, Alemi busied himself furling the sail and other chores. Then he, too, hunkered down in the cockpit, bracing his rod on the port side.
They didn't have long to wait for a bite. And Readis was first.
The rod bent, its tip almost touching the choppy waves as the redfin fought its ensnarement. Readis, biting his lip, his eyes bugged out with determination, set both feet on the seat and hung on to his rod. Grunts came out of him as he struggled to reel in this monster. Alemi had one hand, out of the boy's line of sight, ready to grab the rod should the fish prove too strong.
Readis was panting with effort by the time the equally exhausted redfin was flapping feebly in the starboard side.
With one deft swoop, Alemi netted it and hauled it aboard; Readis whooped with glee as he saw the size of it.
"That's the biggest one yet, isn't it, Uncle Alemi? That's the biggest one I've caught. Isn't it? A real good big ‘un!”
"Indeed it is,” Alemi replied stoutly: the fish was not as long as his forearm. But a good prize for the boy.
Just then his line tugged.
"You gotta bite, too. You gotta bite!”
"That I do. So you'll have to attend to this one yourself."
Alemi was amazed at the pull of his hooked fish. He had to exert considerable force to keep the rod from being pulled out of his hand. For a startled moment, he wondered if he had inadvertently hooked a shipfish which no fishman in his right mind ever did. He was immensely relieved as he saw the red fins of his captive as the fish writhed above the surface in an attempt to loosen the barb in its mouth.
“That's ginormous!" cried Readis and looked up at the Master Fishman with an awed expression.
"It's a big ‘un all right,” Alemi said, jamming his feet under the cockpit seat to get more leverage against the pull.
"And it's dragging the skiff!”
That, too, was obvious to Alemi, dragging them toward the edge of the Great Southern Current. He could even discern the difference in colour between current and sea.
And we're right in the middle of the school!” Readis cried, lurching from port to starboard to look down at the darting bodies that surrounded the little ship.
"Best knock your catch on the head before it flips overboard,” Alemi said, noting the flapping of the landed fish and not wanting its oil to coat the deck. He managed to reel in a good length though the tip of his rod went briefly underwater. He hauled mightily and got enough play in the line to reel in again.
"That is the fightingest fish you've ever hooked,” Readis said.
He'd knocked his redfin smartly on the head and tossed it in the catch‑tank, remembering to fasten the lid with a deft turn of the fastener.
One eye on the drift toward the Great Current, Alemi hurried the process of reeling the redfin in. Readis was cheering him along with reports of the immense size of the fish so Alemi hoped that he would win the battle.
"Get ready with the net, boy!" he called as he manoeuvered his catch close to the port side of the skiff.
Readis was ready but the struggling fish was too much for his young arms and Alemi flung the rod aside to help. They got the fish aboard, Alemi clouted it on the head, and then stepped over it to get to the tiller and alter their course away from the Southern Current.
They were close enough for him to see the rapid stream, making its inexorable way through waters crowded with fish attempting to reach its safety.
"Wheee, look at that, Unclemi!" Readis cried, pointing a blood‑smeared finger at the school of redfin. "Can't we fish here?"
"Not in the Current, boy, not unless you want to take a much longer voyage and miss tonight's gather."
“I don't want to do tha Readis' eyes widened and his mouth gaped as he looked astern. O‑oh!”
Alemi craned his head over his shoulder and caught his breath. Boiling up behind them, and far too close for them to reach the safety of river mouth, was one of the black squalls that this part of the coast was famous for: squalls which defied even his well‑honed seaman's instinct for storm. A powerful gust of wind smacked into his face and made his eyes water. Even as he moved to secure the boom, gesturing Readis to perform emergency tasks drilled into him for just such a situation, Alemi cursed the freak weather which gave none of the warnings he was used to noting in the Nerat Bay waters in which he had been trained.
His father, Yanus, had often berated the folly of men who insisted on sailing the Great Currents when there were quieter waters that held just as many fish but without the hazards.
Alemi, rather liking hazards, had never agreed with his father on that score ‑ among others.
Now, he gave a brief tug at the ties of Readis' vest, grinned a reassurance and then payed out the sea anchor.
“So what do fishmen do in a blow, Readis?" he shouted above the rising wind that whipped words from his mouth.
"Sail into it! Or run with it!" Readis was grinning with all the impudent confidence of his age. He leaned into the arm Alemi put round him as they braced themselves in the cockpit. “Which do we do now?"
"Run!" Alemi said, adjusting his course to the gusty pressure against the back of his head and keeping the bow in line with the wave pattern.
This dinghy was a frail craft in the high seas that a sudden squall like this could churn up. Devoutly Alemi hoped this would be a short blow, as they so often were in this area. One large roller athwart the dinghy and they'd be swamped.
The shoreline had disappeared in the blackness of the encompassing storm but that didn't worry Alemi as much as getting caught in the Great Southern Current which could take them dangerously far from land. Or ram them, all unseeing, into the headland above Paradise River Cove. Hauling the tiller over as far as he dared, he hoped the wind would blow them to starboard, away f
rom the Current and toward land.
But winds were as capricious as these seas. He had checked the barometer ‑ one of the new tools which Aivas had supplied as a weather aid. Knowing himself more attuned to Nerat Bay's more pacific waters, Alemi had availed himself of the device despite the scoffing of other fishmen. He had also studied the weather charts and such information about these waters that the Ancients had amassed in Aivas' seemingly inexhaustible ‘files'.
Anything that would aid the Crafthold and prevent loss of life and ship was not too bizarre to be tested by Alemi.
But the barometer had been steady on ‘fair' when he left to collect Readis. Too late to worry about that now, he thought, as a whitecap bashed the skiff sideways. It then dropped down a huge trough, sinking his stomach on the way. Beside him, Readis laughed, even if he also tightened his hands on the gunnel beside him. Alemi managed to grin encouragingly down at his brave shipmate.
On the upsurge, the wave seized the small boat and heaved it high on the next crest, then smashed it down again so that water walled them into a dark green pocket, the sea anchor trailing in the air behind them. The skiff lurched, its prow digging into the ascending sea cliff. They took on water and, when Readis would have dutifully reached for the bailing bucket, Alemi tightened his hold on him, shaking his head. The skiff could take on a good deal of water ‑ which would make her somewhat heavier in the seas, all to the good ‑ before she was in danger of sinking. He feared capsizing more. He was glad that he had drilled Readis on how to cope with an overturn. Now it was all he could do to hang on, for a cross rip of surging waves battered the skiff from side to side, as well as up and down. He clung ‑ one hand to the ship and one on Readis and prayed for the end of the squall.
They could stop almost as abruptly as they began. That would be their only hope now: a quick end to the blow.
He saw the mast splinter and break, felt Readis' tightened grip, and then abruptly they were upended as the cross waves slammed into the starboard side and decanted them into the roiled sea. His grip on Readis tightened, pulling the boy close in to his chest. Over the scream of the storm he heard the boy's startled, frightened cry. Then they were being milled in the waters, Readis clinging to him like a grey limpet.
Alemi flailed his free arm, trying to reach the surface again.
He managed to grab a breath just as another wave pushed them down. Readis struggled in his arms and all he could do was tighten his grip. He mustn't lose the boy. Then his scooping hand came hard against something. The upturned skiff? He clutched at a roundness that was not wooden, but firm and fleshed.
Shipfish? Shipfish! Through the driving rain and wash of sea water, he could see shapes all around them. How often they were said to rescue fishermen!
The hard edge of a dorsal fin now filled his hand and his body was swung against its long sleek shape just as another wave crashed over him. No, the shipfish was angling its agile body right through the wave and out the other side. Readis' small body was on the outside, victim to the pull of the harsh waves.
Hanging on, Alemi somehow shoved Readis to his side, against the shipfish. In between the sheets of water that covered them, he saw Readis' hands trying to find some purchase on the sleek, slippery body.
"SHIPFISH, READIS!" he shouted above the tumult of the storm winds. "THEY'LL SAVE US! HANG ON!”
Then he felt another body nudge into him on the other side, wedging him and Readis even tighter, though how the creatures managed that feat in such rough water he didn't know. But the additional support allowed him some respite and he reset his hand on the dorsal fin; he even managed to work one of Readis' small hands on the sturdy edge.
Then it occurred to Alemi as they passed through yet another wall of water, that Readis was small enough to ride on the shipfish's back. It took three more waves before Alemi had hoisted Readis astride the shipfish. To his immense surprise, the shipfish seemed to help as much as it could by maintaining as straight a line through the plunging seas as it could.
"HOLD ON! HOLD ON TIGHT!" Alemi said, firmly wrapping Readis' small arms around the fin. The boy, his face a scared white but his mouth set in a determined line, nodded and half‑crouched behind the fin, like the rider of a sea dragon.
A surge of relief caused Alemi to momentarily loosen his grip on the top of the fin and he floundered about. Almost immediately, a blunt nose bumped him authoritatively and the next thing he knew a dorsal fin was nudging against his right hand. A wave crashed down on him and he was tumbled in the water, away from the safety and he had to fight his panic.
But the shipfish was right beside him, pushing him upward with its snout. They both broke the surface together and Alemi thrashed toward the creature, grabbing the dorsal with both hands, only to be thrown sideways against the long body by the next whitecap. This time he managed to retain a grip with one hand and also, by letting his body trail beside the shipfish, he could follow its movements more easily. He fought the panic in him that wanted both hands on this one source of stability offered in the stormy sea and, relaxing into the movement, found the courage to surrender to the shipfish. As they dipped and plunged through the next wave, he saw Readis, crouching over his mount's back. He saw the phalanx of escort on either side and knew that their protection was solid.
Then it seemed as if the squall was lessening or perhaps they had been conveyed to its fringes where the water was calmer.
Either way, their passage improved. Looking in the direction he thought land should be, he saw the smudge of the shoreline and almost cried with relief.
"Wheeeeee!”
Startled by that cry, Alemi turned as he saw a shipfish launch itself above the waves in a graceful arc and re‑enter the water.
Others began the same antic, all “wheeing” or “squeeing!”
"Wheee!" cried an unmistakably boy's voice and Alemi looked over his left shoulder to see Readis, now sitting up straighter on his shipfish, grinning with delight at the exhibition. "That's great!" the boy added. "Aren't they great, Alemi?"
"Grrrreat!" But it was shipfish who repeated the word, in just the same way the boy had uttered it, spinning the r' out.
On all sides, shipfish were crying "Great” as they continued their leisurely vaultings in and out of the sea. Alemi convulsively tightened his grip on the dorsal fin. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The stress of the storm, perhaps a blow to his head, or plain fear, had addled his faculties. His companion raised its head and, water shooting up out of the blow‑hole in the top of its cranium, clearly said: "Thass great!”
"They're talking, Unclemi, they're talking.”
"How could they, Readis? They're fish!”
"Not fish! Mam'l." His rescuer got out the three words in a loud and contradictory tone. "Doll fins,” it added clearly and Alemi shook his head. "Doll fins speak good." As if to emphasize this, it began to speed forward, hauling the dazed Master Fishman along at a spanking pace.
Readis' doll fin and the guardian companions altered their course, too, and picked up speed, the flankers still performing their acrobatic above‑the‑water spins, vaults and turns.
"Talk some more, will you?" Readis encouraged in his highpitched young voice. This was going to make some gather tale.
And they'd have to believe what he said because Unclemi was here with him to vouch that what he said was true.
"Talk'? You talk. Long tayme no talk,” a doll fin swimming alongside Readis said very clearly. "Men back Landing? Doll fin ears back?"
"Landing?" Alemi repeated, stunned. The doll fins knew the ancient name? Wonder upon wonder.
"Men are back at Landing,” Readis said quite proudly, as if he had been instrumental in their return.
"Good!" cried one doll fin as it executed a twist mid‑air, knifing back into the water without splashing.
"Squeeeeee!" another cried as it vaulted upward.
In the water all around him, Alemi heard excited clickings and clatterings. The area seemed so full of shipfish bodies that
he wondered how they could move without injuring each other.
"Look, Unclemi, we're nearly back!" Readis said, jabbing his finger at the fast‑approaching land.
They had been conveyed so rapidly and smoothly that Alemi struggled between relief that they were so close to dry land and regret that this incredible journey was ending. The forward motion of the shipfish slowed as they came to the first of the sandbanks. Some leaped over it, others followed Readis' and Alemi's mounts to the channel, while the majority altered their direction seaward again.
Moments later the smooth transport came to a complete halt and, tentatively lowering his feet, Alemi felt the firmness of the sea bed, gradually sloping up to the shore. He released the dorsal fin and slapped the side of his mount who turned and rubbed its nose against him, as if inviting a caress. Bemused, Alemi scratched as he would his dog or the small felines who were beginning to invade the Hold. Readis' mount continued past him.
“Thanks, my friend. You saved our lives and we are grateful.”
"Wielcame. Uur duty,” the shipfish said clearly and then with a swirl, it propelled its body sinuously back out to the break in the sandbar, its fin travelling at ever increasing speed as it rejoined its fellows.
"Hey!" Readis cried on a note of alarm. His mount had unceremoniously dumped him in shallows where he was just able to stand erect, the water as high as his chin.
"Thank the doll fin,” Alemi called, wading as fast as he could toward the boy. "Scratch its chin.”
"Oh? You like that, huh?" Readis, treading water, managed to use both hands to scratch the face presented him. "Thank you very much indeed for saving my life and giving me that great swim ashore."
"Wielcame, bhoy!" Then the doll fin executed an incredible leap over Readis' head and followed its pod mate out to sea again.
"Come back. Come back soon,” Readis called after him, raising himself up out of the water to project his invitation.
Dolphins of Pern Page 2