Brothers of the Sea

by D R Sherman

  The boy leaped to his feet in consternation as the big fish increased the distance between them. He clucked at it till his throat ached, but it took no notice of him at all. He wished suddenly that he could speak to the big fish and have it understand the words he spoke before it swam down into the sea. There were so many things that he wanted to say. He wanted to thank it for saving his life, and he wanted to thank it for the breathless underwater ride, but most of all he wanted to tell the fish how fine and strong and beautiful he thought it was.

  He danced up and down in the boat in a little jig of helpless frustration. For a second he thought of diving overboard and racing after the dolphin, but the memory of the hammerhead was still too fresh in his mind. He did not doubt that the big fish could deal with it again, but it was not a chance that he was eager to take.

  He glanced round wildly, and his eyes fell on the bourjois which was the fish he had speared before all the others. He darted forward and snatched it up, cursing himself for not having thought of it already. He pursed his lips and whistled piercingly, and at the same time he took the fish by the head and waved it slowly in the air.

  Attracted by the trilling whistle the dolphin came about suddenly. It swam back towards the pirogue, its head held high in the water. The boy shivered with excitement. He sat down quickly, so that he would be in a position to give the fish to the dolphin the moment it swam up alongside the pirogue.

  “Ici, marsouin,” he called softly. ”Ici, garçon, ici.”

  Twenty feet from the boat the dolphin turned suddenly and dived under the water. The boy cried out involuntarily. He felt a sickening emptiness in his stomach. It took his breath away for a moment, but then after that he felt a burst of anger at the insufferable effrontery of the dolphin.

  “Aye yo!” he cried out. “You big, stupid fish-pig!”

  He jerked the snapper backwards and forwards in frustration and then in a sudden spurt of rage he leaned out over the side of the pirogue and brought it smacking down fiat against the surface of the sea. An instant later he was astonished to see the dark shadow of the dolphin coming up towards him, wagging its head from side to side as it swam up through the dark blue water.

  The big fish swam right up to him, and before he had time to recover from his surprise and snatch his hand from the water it took hold of the snapper and with a gentle tug pulled it from his fingers. Staring down into the water he saw the dolphin turn the snapper crosswise and work it a little farther back inside its mouth. He saw the beaked jaws close tightly, and he heard the crackling sound of crisp flesh and scales being crushed and the crunching sound of little bones being broken and then he saw the big fish turn the snapper once again in its mouth with a quick movement of its beak and swallow it down headfirst.

  The dolphin lifted its head from the water. It seemed to the boy that there was a look of inquiry in its expressive eyes. He snatched up the striped angelfish and held it out to the dolphin. The big fish watched his movements warily, but it displayed no interest in the papillon. He thrust the angelfish a little closer towards the dolphin and waved it entreatingly in front of the pointed beak. The dolphin eyed him a moment longer and then slipped back into the water so that only its curved back and dorsal fin protruded above the surface.

  The boy stopped waving the fish. His face wrinkled with vexation and bewilderment. He called to the dolphin, and-he began to wave the fish again tentatively when it occurred to him that perhaps the dolphin did not associate the object in his hand with food. He remembered what had happened the first time he waved the bourjois in the air, and how the big fish had shown no interest in it until he had smacked it down loudly into the water.

  Thinking of what had happened he was baffled for a moment, but then there came into his mind the memory of mackerel jumping in the sea and the noise of their smacking down on the water as the big carangue and striped thon drove hungrily into them, coming up from far below in the dark water to feed. He remembered the man working the pirogue in among the leaping school to catch the big tuna which fed on the mackerel, and then in a sudden burst of comprehension he understood why the dolphin came back when it heard the smacking sound of the snapper being slapped against the water.

  The dolphin was starting to move away from the boat when the boy lifted the little striped papillon. He smacked it down smartly against the water and then held the fish a little way below the surface. The dolphin turned immediately and swam straight for the fish he has holding.

  The boy quivered with excitement. He noticed the strange way in which the dolphin wagged its head from side to side as it approached. To him it was a comical diversion: he did not know that it was sending out bursts of ultrasonic sound which enabled it to locate the exact position of the fish. Its blowhole came out of the water and he heard strange whistling and squeaking noises, but now they were louder and pitched high with frenzied enthusiasm.

  He flinched a little as the dolphin opened its mouth. He saw the sharp conical teeth and he saw that they were unlike the spade-shaped teeth of the other porpoises he had seen, and it took all of his courage to hold his hand steadily in the water when what he wanted to do was snatch it away from the long jaws which were opening wider and wider and which had long rows of teeth which seemed to extend right into the very throat of the big fish. In blind terror he watched it closing in on his hand.

  The dolphin took the fish from him without touching his hand. It drew the angelfish from his fingers with such gentleness that he barely felt the withdrawal. He woke from his trance, and he felt a sudden rush of affection for the big fish which had the strength and courage to tackle a hammerhead shark and yet could be so gentle with a boy who had nothing to offer it but a fish.

  He fed it the blue-green cacatois, smacking it down into the water first, and he heard the crunchy noise of its horny bill breaking as the dolphin crushed the parrot wrasse between its powerful jaws. He had nothing left now to offer the dolphin except the fat porgy. He eyed it with indecision. He wanted to give the porgy to the dolphin, but at the same time he was a little unwilling to part with the sweet-fleshed fish. It was a meal for two, and it was the last one left, and he was tired and he did not want to have to go into the sea and start hunting for their food all over again. He reached out reluctantly for the harpoon on which the fish was impaled, still undecided.

  He glanced at the dolphin wallowing in the water beside the boat. It seemed to him that it was beginning to get restless and impatient. He did not want it to go away, and so he made up his mind about the porgy without any further hesitation.

  He snatched up the harpoon, unscrewed the head and then ran the fish off the end of the shaft. He picked it up and leaned out over the side of the pirogue and smacked it down into the water. The dolphin made its head-wagging approach. He felt a renewed affection for it because of the gentle and considerate manner in which it took the fish from his fingers.

  I wish you could be my friend, he thought. I would like to ride on your back again, and I would shoot many more fish for you.

  He picked up the harpoon head and began to screw it back on the shaft. He worked automatically, doing it without looking, and his eyes were on the big fish in the sea. He saw it crush the fat porgy between its jaws and then swallow it headfirst, and he saw the sun reflecting brightly on the little waves which broke wetly over its glossy back.

  He gave a final twist to the harpoon head and then tightened it up with all the pressure he could apply. He compressed the barbs, and then holding them down with his thumb and forefinger he secured them with the locking ring. He laid the harpoon down beside the speargun and then returned his attention to the dolphin. It was then that the idea first occurred to him.

  He ran his eye over the great length of the big fish in the water. At a rough guess it would scale at well over three hundred pounds. If it dressed out at less than half that weight there would be more than one hundred and fifty pounds of prime meat. At fifty cents a pound that would be a lot of money. His forehead wrinkled and h
is lips moved silently as he worked the sum out laboriously in his head. The answer he got made his breath catch. Seventy-five rupees was a lot of money. They would be able to pay the rent for the house and there would even be enough left over to buy a pair of flipper feet in one of the big stores in Victoria. Fish was scarce, and it was even possible that the meat of the marsouin would sell for more than fifty cents a pound.

  He picked up the harpoon and hefted it thoughtfully in his hands. He glanced at the dolphin, and in his mind he saw himself standing up and stretching to his full height and then driving the spear deep into the heart of the big fish. The picture shocked and horrified him.

  He threw the harpoon down with a sudden oath, appalled at the monstrous treachery of his thoughts. He did not know how he could have even contemplated such a dreadful thing. For a few moments he hated himself with an intensity that made him feel sick.

  It is only a fish, he thought angrily, trying to quiet his accusing conscience, but at the bottom of his heart he knew that he could never again think of the big fish as anything but a loved and trusted friend.

  He was glad then that he thought of it as a fish, and not as a mammal, which was the same thing as a man. It was not that he did not think a dolphin worthy enough to be compared to a man: it was just that he felt a greater sense of importance by thinking of it as a fish. Anyone could have a man for a friend, but it was not everyone who could boast of being friends with a fish. He wondered if he would ever see it again some other day, and he wondered if the big fish knew how happy he was to be near it.

  He reached out over the side of the boat and smacked the palm of his hand into the water. When the dolphin swam in close he lifted his hand quickly from the sea and ran his fingers over the bulging dome of its head. The skin felt smooth and slick like the rubber on his mask when it was under water and wet.

  I have touched it, he thought triumphantly.

  The dolphin jerked its head aside and darted away in alarm. The boy felt a sudden stab of remorse and apprehension. The big fish was already twenty feet from the pirogue and still moving away fast. He did not think it was going to come back now, and he began to wish that he had not acted so impetuously as he watched the shadowy shape of the dolphin scudding away below the surface of the sea.

  He stood up quickly, so that he could keep it in sight for as long as possible. The shadow disappeared for a while, and then suddenly the dolphin rose bursting from the sea.

  It lifted high into the air, with transparent drops of water spraying from its dark purple back, showing all its great beauty and all its great strength. It crashed back into the sea, still moving away from him, and then a second later he knew it must have made a turn deep down in the dark water where he could not see it because he saw the dark shape of its great body arrowing straight back towards him. It did not look like a fish, but like a flickering shadow that flew swiftly just beneath the surface of the sea. The boy held his breath.

  The dolphin sped straight for the bow of the little boat, and then it slowed suddenly and turned onto its side and swam slowly on its side till it was lying motionless in the water right alongside the boat. The boy saw the pale whiteness of its belly, and then he started in alarm as the big fish rolled and twisted in the water and rubbed its belly against the planking of the pirogue.

  The boat rocked violently, and he thought at first that the fish was trying to capsize it. Panic clawed at him as he fought to keep his balance, but then a second later it dawned on him that the dolphin was only scratching its belly. The tension left him and he laughed with relief. He sat down quickly, and now he wanted to touch the dolphin again and prove to it that he meant it no harm.

  He reached out cautiously, not wanting to frighten it, remembering what had happened the last time he touched it. Hardly daring to breathe he placed the tips of his fingers against its belly. The big fish became suddenly still, but it did not swim away. The boy began to hope that he might be able to make a friend of it at last. He started to stroke his fingers very gently up and down over the smooth white skin of its belly.

  The dolphin lay on its side for a while, permitting the boy to caress it, but then it righted itself abruptly and darted off. Twenty yards out the dolphin turned and came straight back towards the pirogue.

  He waited for it eagerly, and then as the dolphin came alongside and began to rub its belly up and down against the smooth planking he reached out and tickled it. He was very gentle, and once again the dolphin grew quite still and allowed him to caress it. He felt the vulnerable softness of its belly, and in that moment there was born in him a great love for the big fish which trusted him so implicitly.

  He felt a great thrill of pride and satisfaction at his conquest, but at the same time he felt a little bit subdued. He must think that I am his brother, the boy thought with sudden amusement, because it is certain that when he first saw me I looked more like a frightened fish than a fisherman.

  He continued to stroke his fingers up and down over the belly of the dolphin. He did not know that the skin he caressed so lovingly was extremely sensitive to continuous friction. The dolphin turned suddenly and streaked off under the water. It surfaced fifty yards away, and he saw the smooth roll of its back in the water as it came up to breathe and then it vanished below the surface once more.

  The boy sat up quickly, staring at the place where the fish had disappeared. He was not particularly anxious, because the dolphin, had done it before and he thought it was going to come back. He waited patiently, expecting it to reappear at any moment. A minute passed, and then another minute, and when there was still no sign of it he became apprehensive.

  He jumped up, sweeping his glance anxiously over the surface of the sea, and twice he turned back to stare dully at the spot in the water where he thought he had last seen the big fish. The minutes dragged by, but the fish did not return. He began to feel hurt and a little bit resentful at the way it had deserted him.

  He began to wonder where the big fish could be, and he wondered why it did not come up to breathe. It occurred to him then that it might have surfaced behind him while his head was turned. He thought about it, but he did not really believe it. He had been alert, and very watchful, and he felt certain that he would have seen the dolphin if it had come up anywhere in the vicinity.” He did not know how long it could stay down in the water without breathing. Many minutes had passed already, and he began to think that it must have surfaced far out to sea on the other side of Ile aux Cerf. He stared accusingly at the island for a while, and then turned away despondently. He felt a little sad, because the big fish had deserted him so abruptly. He did not think he would ever see it again.

  He moved up into the bow of the pirogue and he bent over and started hauling in the anchor. He worked mechanically, his thoughts still on the dolphin, and he pulled the dripping wet rope in hand over hand and coiled it down with a flick of his wrist. With a final heave he lifted the anchor over the point of the bow and lowered it into the boat.

  He sat down and put the oars out, and he used the left-hand oar to turn the bow of the boat a little and then he leaned forward a bit and splashed both oars into the water. He pulled for the shore with a slow, easy stroke. He threw a last reproachful glance at the rocky island which he thought had prevented him from seeing the dolphin for the last time and then he bowed his head and stared unseeingly at the planking of the boat. He was certain now that he would not see the dolphin again.

  He felt a burst of overwhelming loneliness. He lifted his head suddenly and threw it back, and there were tears in his eyes as he stared up at the sky. It had cleared a little more, and it was brighter now than it had been earlier. He saw two dark clouds with the wind in their sails racing each other towards the sun. The one on the right got there first, and as it passed over the face of the sun and swallowed it up, the color of the sea changed from a dark blue to a darkness that had no color.

  He did not actually notice the change: it registered only as a gloomy oppressiveness. He thought of
the big fish again. A little moan of pain burst from his mouth. He felt a moment of unreasonable anger then, and all of it was directed at the dolphin. It swelled him up, and it filled his chest to bursting, and he felt that he would burst if he did not do something to stop the swelling in his chest.

  He wondered suddenly whether the big fish might not hear him if he whistled. He remembered how it had turned back before.

  He took a deep, measured breath, filling his lungs to capacity, and then he shut his mouth and held it. He took another quick breath which made the muscles of his stomach stretch in pain, and then in a sudden explosive outburst he blew all the pain and anger from his heart in a high-pitched, drawn-out whistle. The shrill sound of it pierced his own ears, and the effort left him limp. He did not think he had ever whistled as loudly before. He began to feel better. He grinned to himself and pulled a little harder on the oars, holding to the same measured stroke which had not faltered once even while he had been exorcising the devils in his heart. He flicked his gaze across the water perfunctorily: he did not really think that the fish would come.

  An instant later he froze suddenly and the grin died on his face. The pirogue swung sharply to the left and the port oar was almost torn from his right hand as the forgotten blade dragged through the water. He saw the big fish bursting through the surface of the sea about ten feet to his left. It seemed to him as he stared in apprehensive astonishment that its whole body shook and undulated as it fought to free itself from the clutching grip of the sea. A second later it rose right out of the water in a burst of spray. He saw the great length of its body coming straight towards him with the dark sea shining wetly on its smooth skin. He cowered down in the boat and watched it out of the corner of his eye, his arms clasped protectively across the back of his head, tensing himself for the moment of impact.

  He thought the fish was going to land right in the boat. The big white belly seemed to fill the whole sky, but then it began to lift, and he saw the whole great length of the fish lifting higher and higher into the air till it was so high he had to raise his head to watch it and then it was hanging like an arch in the air high above him and he saw the single slit on the underside of its tail just before it curved through the sky and splashed into the water fifteen feet away on the other side of the boat. If he had understood the significance of that single slit he would have been a little dismayed: his boy friend was a girl.