“No, no, it’s our tradition,” Captain Jim said quickly in an attempt to preserve their story.
Anna didn’t even hear him. “Daddy, you’re the one who just gambled away our boat…” She waved Max’s money in the air.
Max held up his hand. “Wait. Everyone calm down. Anna, you’re still the pilot on my boat.” He looked around at the two captains. “And I’m hiring you two on as well, to be my crew.”
“Oh, God, thank you,” Captain Jim exclaimed. “We’ve really got nowhere else to go.”
“Señor Max,” Cofresí said, “you are a decent man.”
“I will still be the pilot,” Anna said, “but I have a job here at La Salida and prospects with my new degree, as well. But without the boat, my father and Captain Jim have no jobs.”
“We must sail as planned Thursday night,” Cofresí said. “Anna must be our pilot. There is no option.” He pulled his wad of bills from his inner jacket pocket and counted out another thousand. He handed them to Max. “Here is my down payment.”
“Captain Jim is in charge of keeping the engine running smoothly,” Anna spoke up. “I definitely need him on board. And my father can be the extra hand.”
“Ah, yes, the engine,” Max said. “I did learn some curses during my lobster boat days to use when the engine goes bad.”
“We mostly curse in Spanish around here,” Anna said without a smile.
Cofresí let out a hearty laugh. “Señorita Ana understands every word we say. Señor Max, she is a sailor too.”
Anna rolled her eyes.
Max looked back at all the money in his hands. “We will split the profit equally,” Max said. “That’s pretty much what the good lobster captains do in Maine.”
“Hijo de puta,” Anna’s father exclaimed. “We are all equal, but you are still captain?”
“What’d he say?” Max asked.
“You don’t need to know,” Anna said.
“Yes,” Captain Jim said again, ignoring Max and Anna. “He won the boat fair and square. He’s now the captain, and the captain pays what he wants to pay.”
“Sí, perdiste.” Cofresí nodded. “The captain is now Señor Max from Maine.”
“Maine? That is a strange world to all of us,” Anna said.
“As this is to me,” Max said. He turned to Captain Jim. “Is this drawing the two black kings thing part of all that voodoo stuff you all have down here?”
“While I answer that, Anna, why don’t you go ahead and get us all the drinks Captain Max ordered,” Captain Jim said, reminding her of Max’s request.
Anna was still holding the money. She rolled her eyes again. She still did not head for the bar.
“Wait,” Señor Cofresí said. “Yankee Capitán, before we drink again, you must answer my question. Does this mean you are going to do the job Thursday night for me?”
“Sure,” Max said. “My pilot appears to have agreed. You all seem to agree no one else around here can do the job. So, yes, I will sail as captain, and we will do your job.” Max smiled. “This boat now sails under the principles of mainland culture and democracy. And I will curse the engine with the Nova Scotian and French Canadian words I learned on the lobster boats.”
“Señorita Anna’s engine will not need your curses. She is a very good boat,” Captain Jim assured Max. “Now we can drink again. We should have drinks to celebrate this good turn of fortune.”
Anna finally headed for the bar.
Max spoke to Captain Jim again. “I’m really curious,” he said. “Is drawing the two black kings like voodoo, like telling the future by looking at chicken guts or something?”
Captain Jim laughed hard and loud. “The Yankee is not only lucky, he is loco too.”
“Okay, this is Mayaguez,” Max conceded, “so maybe it’s tuna guts, not chicken. Are there voodoo beliefs about card hands, like the bad luck from the drowned Phoenician sailor in the Tarot deck?”
“Señor Max!” Cofresí exclaimed. “We do not talk about drowned sailors here.”
Even Captain Jim seemed offended. “Drowned sailors, indeed…”
“Right, of course,” Max said.
“Tonight you became a boat owner,” Captain Jim said. “You want to learn all the secrets of our island too?”
“I was just curious,” Max said. “A woman on the plane predicted I would sail with a pilot who could navigate by the feel of the sea.”
“And that we shall do tomorrow,” Captain Jim said. “Was it a Puerto Rican woman who made the prediction?”
“No, I think she was a New Englander,” Max said, “a good old Yankee like me.”
Captain Jim laughed again. “All the mainlanders are loco,” he said.
“Loco o no, crazy or not”—Señor Cofresí spoke up—“his family sent him down here because they now own the factory I run. And Max, Wednesday, during the day, you must come and see how it is run. I will send a car for you, and I will arrange for you to have a tour. Wednesday you will be the representative of my bosses. Then Thursday night you will be captain of the boat I have hired for a job that is not part of the tuna plant.”
Captain Bob spoke up. “And mañana Max will sail as captain of the boat I named after my good daughter.”
“And you will be my first officer,” Max said.
“A demotion I will gladly accept, even though the jack of diamonds has never let me down before,” Captain Bob replied.
Anna brought their drinks.
“And tonight,” Señor Cofresí added, “we drink as old friends. I do not know if that is like your Yankee ways,”—he raised his glass—“but that is the way it is for us here in Mayaguez today.”
Anna handed around the drinks. She did not have one of her own. Max and the men raised their glasses, and they all drank again. The rum in the mixed drink was sweet and very strong.
Señor Cofresí pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket. “I will call for my driver,” he said. “I must go now. I have my own way home.” He put down his glass and extended his hand to Max. “Señor Max, tonight we part as friends. Wednesday you come to the plant, and I hope we remain friends then also.”
Max took Cofresí’s hand. “Yes,” he agreed.
“I will send my car to the boat for you Wednesday morning.”
“The boat?” Max asked.
No one answered till Captain Jim said, “Of course. The captain always lives on his boat. That is the way things are done.”
“The boat?” Max asked again. “Not the hotel? My family gave me a room at the Hilton. I’ve already checked in…”
“Nonsense,” Captain Bob dismissed the fact with a wave of his hand. “A tuna boat captain must live on his boat.”
Si.” Cofresí nodded. “Here in the Caribbean, it is the way things are done. Señor Max, if you have a place to live, why should your family, and my employers, pay for you to also stay in a hotel? We must always try our best to save them money. Do you not agree?”
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Max admitted.
“Good.” Cofresí smiled and nodded. “I will send my car to your boat.” Then he turned and walked away.
Captain Jim raised his glass. “To your new home away from home.” He smiled, and Max joined the two remaining men at the table to toast, and they drank again.
Then Anna spoke up. “Except there may be just a little problem now…You see, Max, Puerto Rico isn’t as totally liberated as the mainland might be. I’m the only girl on board, and Daddy’s been letting me sleep in the captain’s cabin. He shares the crew cabin with Captain Jim.”
“Don’t worry.” Max smiled. “This is America. This is part of the USA here too. The captain has responsibilities and duties, but as persons we are all the same. I will sleep with my crew.”
“That is so un-colonial,” Anna said. “I’m starting to like you already.”
“You all asked me down here to tell me what’s going on.” Max said. “The boat is your home. What can I do?”
“Bravo, Captain Max,
” Captain Jim said, and he raised his glass again.
“Wait,” Max objected. He did not raise his glass. “We have business to tend to.” He looked around from one face to another. “I know, not here,” he added. “We can’t talk about that here, and I’m tired from the trip, and I’ve had too much of this really strong rum to make any sense of it tonight. But Anna, tomorrow I need you to tell me exactly what the hell is going on.”
“Of course, Max.” Anna smiled. “Tomorrow we will go out to see the fleet like we planned before you became our captain, and I will tell you everything. That is why I wrote. That is why you came.”
Captain Jim raised his glass again. “To the New Englanders,” he said.
“My family once owned whaling ships,” Max said. “I do come from a seafaring tradition.”
Captain Bob laughed this time. “And most of our ancestors were pirates, thieves, and hard drinkers,” he said. “Even on the mainland. We have our traditions, too.”
Anna joined the conversation. “I’ve read about your Nantucket, Greenport, and New Bedford,” she said. “All the whaling captains had fine houses where their women watched and waited for them to come home from the sea.”
“Some captains had some fine houses,” Max agreed.
“Here we’re too poor to own boats and houses both,” Anna said, “and the captain’s daughters have to wait tables and tend bar for the turistas to even afford life on a boat.”
“She speaks too much truth,” Captain Bob said. “Max, we’re going to need a little of that money you won from us for gas, if we’re going out on the high seas this week. I hope you understand…”
Max smiled. He set down his glass and pulled out the giant wad of money he had won. He peeled off a few bills and handed them to Anna. “Here’s a couple hundred. Take this for gas tomorrow and in the future, too. When it runs out, let me know.” Then he started counting out more of the money. He handed a wad to Captain Bob and another wad to Captain Jim. The two men looked surprised. “Here’s what you each lost in the game.”
“But Max,” Captain Jim protested. “You won our money fair and square. You drew the two black kings. We are all hard drinkers and gamblers, but we are honest men.”
“No.” Max held up his hand. “I’m not giving you your losings back. No card player worth his sea boots does that. Just consider this pay in advance for your jobs on my boat.” Then he handed Anna a wad of bills as well. “I’ll pay my pilot in advance too. Cofresí’s money I’m going to use for expenses and for Anna’s pay, and for myself too. I know I won it all fair and square.”
Captain Jim stuffed the wad of money into the pocket of his jeans. Then he raised his glass. “To Captain Max. I’m going to like sailing on the Señorita Anna with you.”
Max picked up his glass and raised it too. He toasted, “To New England ways, then. And to the Nantucket widows and the old whaling days.”
“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Anna said. “I’d rather pilot a boat and tend bar here in Mayaguez with you two than wait looking out to sea from some stupid widow’s walk, month after month, for my captain lover to come home.”
Captain Jim laughed. “What makes you think all those women waited?”
Max toasted again. “To the good women of the whalers and the pirates! To the Mayaguez fishing fleet. May all the nets run full.” He started to say more, but his words were gone. He suddenly realized how much rum he’d had. “We’re all drunk,” Max said instead. “I’m not sure I can even walk. How are we even going to find the boat in the dark tonight?”
“It is still daylight, and Anna is not drunk,” Captain Bob said. “A good bartender and the good driver she is never takes a drink herself. She will drive us home.”
Anna stood up and slung her backpack over one shoulder.
“We will go out front, and Anna will bring the car around,” Captain Jim explained. “Just like with the boat, she always drives the car.”
Max looked at Anna. “Do you navigate by feel of the road? What I’ve seen of the traffic here is pretty frightening.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “Max, I thought I told you the road doesn’t move like the water and the wind.”
“Right,” Max said. “God, my brain is fried tonight.”
“Max,” Captain Jim said, “maybe New England’s in a different time zone, but here it’s still early evening. Welcome to Mayaguez.”
Chapter 5
Max was given the honor of sitting in the front seat next to Anna. Salsa music, similar to that in the bar, played on the radio. Anna drove the old red Chevy Impala like a longtime native cabby in the traffic to the Hilton, where they collected Max’s suitcase. Then they returned, through downtown, to the docks.
“My father owned the boat,” Anna said to Max as she swerved through the traffic, “but this car is mine. I bought it—used, of course—with my pay from the boat and mostly from my job at the bar.”
“I wouldn’t expect you won it in a poker game.” Max laughed.
“Nope.” Anna remained serious. “I’ve never played, and I don’t expect I ever will.”
“I can tell you’re definite on that point,” Max said. “I was over in Europe for a while. They have casinos over there. I learned to play blackjack from some really good players. It taught me how to figure out the odds. Believe me, over there, you learn real fast what you’re doing before you bet the farm, even if you don’t have a farm to bet.”
“Oh, God,” Captain Bob said from the back seat. “We should have known…”
“Known?” Max asked. His mind was still a little fuzzy from the drinks. Another driver honked angrily from behind, and he didn’t catch an answer.
Anna drove into a section that was obviously the working part of the harbor. She turned onto a street that ran along the water. Max thought briefly of the roads around the yacht club on Prout’s Neck in Maine. Even with all the rum he was thinking that he certainly was in a different world. Then Anna found a parking place, and they walked to a set of stairs that led down to some docks where fishing and other small work boats were tied up. The smell of dead fish was quite prominent in the otherwise clear air. Captain Jim insisted on carrying Max’s suitcase for him.
Anna led the way. Then she stopped and pointed. “There she is,” she said.
Señorita Anna was lettered on the bow of the boat they stood by. It was a fifty-foot fishing vessel with some modifications that made it also work for small cargo runs and an occasional group fishing expedition. Max could see she needed a good paint job, and there were likely many more needed repairs.
“She’s a little bigger than the lobster boat I worked on,” Max said.
“She’d make a good shrimper on the Gulf Coast,” Captain Bob said. “That’s where Anna and I are from, Redneck Riviera, you know…”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it,” Max said. Then he was silent for a moment.
The others stood waiting for him to say something more.
“Okay, crew.” Max smiled. “She’ll do just fine. I’ll use her as my base of operations while I do this job my family sent me here to do, and then I’ll figure out what more I should do with her. Consider your jobs and home safe for a while.”
“Thank you, Max,” Captain Jim said again. “You are a good captain.”
Anna hitched up her backpack and made a sort of short jump onto the deck. Max, still a little unsteady, followed successfully to land on the deck and remain standing. Captain Bob then got aboard, and Captain Jim handed him Max’s suitcase and followed him on board.
Max couldn’t help noticing the five or six chickens—or more—running around loose on the deck.
“Do you have pet chickens or something?” he asked.
“Well, they’re not exactly pets,” Anna answered. “Lots of people in Puerto Rico have chickens. We eat the eggs, so they’re useful. We let them run free.”
“And,” Max added, “I bet they often provide a good chicken dinner.”
“No.” Anna looked upset. “They’re enough like
pets that we don’t eat them.”
“Ah.” Max started pointing to one after another. “There’s Cacciatore, she’s Italian, and Tandori from India. That one’s the Chinese Lo Mein. That one’s Southern Fried, and there’s Marsala. That one is Japanese Teriyaki. And Fricassée, she’s either French or Italian, I’m not sure. What’s Spanish? Arroz con pollo? Ah, and Cordon Bleu and Coq au Vin, zee French ladies. Yes, zee French ladies are so sassy…”
“Max,” Anna said. “I think you’re drunker than you look. I’d better make dinner and get some food into you.”
“That rum especially was really strong,” Max admitted. “Glad I stuck to beer for the card game. Are we having one of the chickens for dinner?”
“Absolutely not,” Anna refused. “I just told you they’re sort of pets…”
“Oh, yeah, right…”
“And now you’ve gone and named them. We never had names for them. I certainly can’t eat a chicken that has a name, even if your names are all chicken dishes. I’d have named them Rosa, Maria, Carolina, good Spanish names.”
“I’m the captain,” Max said. “I can name our chickens anything I want.”
“Si, el gringo es loco.” Captain Jim laughed. “I think we should all have a beer. Captain Max, it will help us all sober up.”
“I’m making good ol’ arroz con frijoles,” Anna said. “Rice and beans.”
“No tuna?” Max asked. “I suppose when I worked on the lobster boat we didn’t often eat lobster. We sold all the lobsters we could. But this is a tuna boat. No tuna, maybe, but chickens aren’t what you’re fishing for.”
“My father thinks they’re a nuisance being on board,” Anna said, “but he sure likes it when I do scrambled eggs, omelets, or even pancakes. If we eat the chickens, we have no eggs.”
“I should make you all some clam chowder.” Max smiled. “Well, maybe you don’t have clams here, either, but I make a real mean white bean dip. None of you are Republicans like my family, are you?”
“What’s that got to do with beans?” Anna asked. “White beans? Puerto Rican food has dark beans. Let’s leave the chickens here and go down to the galley. I’ll show you what we have.”
Ms. Anna Page 6