Authors Note:
Steps to enjoy Fisher Berry Part 3
Read my short poem Silence Over Partridge Island: Slow Trains Literary Journal
Read Part 1 Here: Fisher Berry Part 1
Read Part 2 Here: Fisher Berry Part 2
Subscribe if your new here (click- enter e-mail and done)
Share post with one friend (click- enter e-mail and done)
Share post with two friends (click enter a second e-mail and done. They will appreciate your kind gesture)
Listen to me read it or read it for yourself
Listen to Fisher Berry Here:
Read Fisher Berry Part 3:
Dusk approached and the views to the west were stunning. long rays of sun reached over the horizon and painted the heavy clouds a bright red. Derrik had seen his share of sunsets before, but this one captivated him; his first from the sea.
Derrik headed to the cabin and opened the door; a blast of warmth struck his face. “Are we gonna head back soon?”
Sam looked up from his maps. “Head back?”
“Yeah. Home.”
Sam shook his head. “We’ve got to find a new place to lay our pots and I don’t want to have to start all over again tomorrow.”
Outside the cabin window, the sun sunk into a deep pocket along the horizon. A chill crept across Derrik’s skin. “You didn’t mention that before.”
“I didn’t know we’d get skunked. We have to adjust the plan. Look, it’s no big deal. We had to sleep on our commercial ship sometimes. I’ll think of a new spot to lay our pots and then we’ll come back to shore.”
In the warmth of the cabin, Derrik undressed, exchanging his wet clothes for the dry ones he packed. His feet were white and wrinkled. His hands were dry and scaly. “I didn’t think there would be good fishin’ here,” Derrik said, taking a shot of warm whiskey from his flask.
“Well then, O Captain, My Captain, where shall we go?” Sam’s breath already smelled of booze.
Derrik fingered the map. “Look at this. I think we should try Jordan’s Basin—it’s deep and rocky. We just need to head a few miles north from here.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “That spot is so popular it’ll be over-fished. I think I know where to go.” Sam turned, stumbled, and grabbed hold of Derrik’s arm for balance. “There is one place where I would like to venture.” He released Derrik’s shoulder and pointed at the map. “Georges Bank.” Sam took a shot of whiskey.
Derrik examined the path. “According to the map, only commercial fishers are allowed there. Plus, I saw heavy clouds to the east, I think there may be a storm there; It’s Nor’easter season.”
“I know we’re technically restricted, but no one polices that. I fished in that area with my commercial boat. The lobsters we caught…” Sam held his hands two feet apart.
Derrik took another shot. “Are we equipped to handle the seas out there? It seems kind of dangerous.”
“I’ve been through some storms before. It can get pretty rough, but nothing the Reggio Emilia can’t take. Besides, I’ve only got you for the weekend. We don’t have time for trial and error. I know for sure we can catch some bugs there,” Sam’s lips parted into a whiskey smirk. “I’m serious. It’s unbelievable.”
Derrik put the flask to his lips. Life had always been easy. College had been easy, finding a job was easy—but lobster fishing seemed hard. His brain fired neurons he didn’t know existed, and every breath of salty air released endorphins. It was the stimulus his brain sought. There was a reason he left class early to come here for the weekend, and it wasn’t to just hang out with his best friend. No, there was a hole in his existence, and the sea made his heart flutter.
Sam patted Derrik on the shoulder. “You’ve got that look.” He fired up the engine and turned hard starboard “You’re excited, aren’t ya?” Sam straightened out the boat and headed due east. “I can tell.”
Derrik looked at Sam, his eyes beamed. “Yeah I am.”
“Pretty soon,” Sam said. “It’ll be just you, me and the bugs.”
Night settled over an hour ago and a single overhead light illuminated the Reggio Emilia. Derrik’s shoulders and arms hurt like never before as he secured the final pot to the boat. He slumped to the deck and Sam joined him.
“Hey,” Sam said, his voice shivered with cold. “I know it’s been a long day, but you did a good job. Now let’s get out of this ice weather.”
There was sincerity in Sam’s eyes he’d never seen before. Not even his old man had complemented his hard work fixing spreadsheets. Derrik’s palms were red and they stung from rope burn. A small white blister formed within the top fold of his pointer finger. He picked at it; a clear liquid oozed out, exposing a layer of fresh red skin.
Sam’s sea-toughened hands steered the Reggio Emilia east towards George’s Bank. A small forward light illuminated the black waves of a night ocean.
Derrik watched Sam steer. “Where in Cape Elizabeth do you live?”
Sam adjusted the wheel and monitored the GPS. “Ever since I bought this boat, I’ve lived on it.”
“You got rid of your apartment?”
Sam laughed. “More than happy to do it. Who wants to live in an apartment? They’ve only got dirty walls, and floors. Besides, it’s too permanent.”
“Isn’t it lonely?” Derrik said.
“Lonely?” Sam extended his arms out to the ocean. “All you need is this. Secrets are kept here, and there ain’t a better friend than that.”
Derrik laughed. “What am I, then?”
Sam’s calm eyes shifted toward Derrik. “You’re a greenhorn You’ll soon have secrets only the ocean can keep too. Ever since college, I knew you and I were the same. That’s why I sent you that text. I knew you’d never pass up this opportunity twice.”
“We aren’t necessarily the same, Sam. I mean how are we gonna make any money? Only commercial ships make money catchin’ bugs, right?”
Sam laughed. “What does that matter? It’s just money.”
“That’s the whiskey talking’,” Derrik said. “Is that why you want to go to Georges Bank? Do you think it will make you money?”
Sam exhaled loudly. “Come on. Life has been easy, man. You know that. Our families have money.”
Derrik nodded, “That doesn’t make it ours, though.”
Sam adjusted the wheel. “It does when they die.”
“Sam, that’s just…”
Sam waved his arms. “My grandfather died last year. He left me some money; enough to last a while, at least.”
The boat rocked in a heavy wave. Water flashed across the deck and ran back out just as quickly. Icicles on the guard rail gleamed in the moon’s reflection. “How much?” Derrik said.
Sam looked at Derrik up and down. “Remember, you’re my ocean, right? I haven’t told anyone this.”
“Yeah. I’m your ocean. Besides, I ain’t got no one to tell.”
“A hundred thousand.”
“Woah. You banked it, right?”
“The bank wanted an address to open an account. Problem is I didn’t have an address. After signing some paperwork, they allowed me to take it in cash. I put it in a duffle bag and stashed it in one of the holding tanks. Do you wanna see it?”
Derrik’s heart raced. “Hell yeah.”
At the aft deck, Sam opened one of the holding tanks. He reached in and hoisted a blue duffle bag. He unzipped it, revealing Ziploc bags stuffed with money.
“You’re just gonna keep it here? On the boat?”
“No. I have a plan. I’m gonna trash the Reggio Emilia and buy a proper boat along with some good equipment.” Sam looked outward. “I also want to leave here.”
“Leave? Where do you wanna go?”
“Last year, I took a trip to New Brunswick, Canada. I stayed in a port city called Saint John. I don’t know why, but that place has been calling my name ever since.”
Sam stuffed the sack back into the holding tank. “Sometimes it literally called to me. There is a big beautiful island right off the shore called Partridge Island. It has this old steam powered foghorn. When that thing went off, it just pierced right through me. It was sayin’ you’re home.”
Derrik pictured a small island with a lighthouse and a foghorn. “That sounds surreal.”
“You wouldn’t believe the fishing out there. I’m gonna get there soon. You should come with me. It’ll be our boat and our town.”
Derrik frowned. “Canada? I don’t know. Maybe you should invest some of your money. You know, for security. I can help you with that.”
Sam rolled his eyes, walked toward the wheelhouse. “What am I doing? You take that finance gig your dad lined up for ya. I’ll drop you off tomorrow.”
Sam closed the door and Derrik watched swells of water ebb and flow. Derrik fingered his flask, but didn’t take a sip. He gazed into the empty space beyond. Sam was right. He wasn’t cut for this.
Derrik found his way to the wheelhouse, where Sam’s glossy eyes glowed in the narrow light of the moon. “I made a promise, Derrik. I promised myself I wouldn’t do what the generations before me did.”
Derrik peeked at the compass, they were headed due east; towards Georges Bank. “What? Make a living?”
Sam laughed. “Make a living? I don’t think so. My grandfather was a lawyer and he made a living off other people’s problems. He was no more than a crook in my opinion. My dad too.”
Derrik guffawed. “Come on. They took care of you.”
“There are bad people out there,” Sam said. “And real bad things happen on this earth. My family made a living defending them. No thank you.”
Derrik reflected on things. Four years of text books and math and somehow, he’d learned more about real life in five minutes with Sam. There was no doubt now. “I don’t want to go home.”
Sam’s cracked lips parted in a smile. “Come here. “I’m gonna show you how to steer. All ya gotta do is stay steady and straight. It can be a little disorienting at night, so make sure ya watch the GPS. It should read due east at all times. Track your progress every now and again on the map. Always be aware of your surroundings too. Become familiar with the sounds of the engine, and of the sea. Your ears and your gut feelings are your best defense against any possible problems out here at night.”
Sam stepped aside and Derrik took hold of the wheel. The smooth wood seemed to ease the pain from his blister and rope burn. It felt natural.
“There ya go, Fisher,” Sam said.
“Fisher?”
“That’s a good sea name for ya, don’tcha think?”
There was a crackle over the two-way radio. “Th… Ro… Win…” Whomever was talking, was completely inaudible.
Fisher looked at the radio and then at Sam. “What the hell was that?”
“It’s the radio. Damn thing never worked right. No big deal, though. I never use it.”
There was more static. “Al… Stro… Vac…”
“Turn that thing off,” Sam said. “I’m never gonna get any sleep if it keeps makin’ noise all night.”
“Sleep?”
Sam switched the radio off. “Yeah. Sleep.” Sam headed underneath the cabin to bed. “If something happens, wake me up immediately.”
Fisher nodded and gripped the wheel. Out the window, he notices the lights of a giant commercial vessel headed in the opposite direction.
End of Part 3