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Trawling Atlantis
"Hey c'ptain, sorry to disturb ye, but ye best come see this. We hauled in some'in mighty strange in the latest catch."
When you've been standing at the helm for 36 hours straight, any break is welcome. I downshifted and switched on the auto-pilot, knowing I'd be back at the wheel within minutes anyway, something strange would usually be rotting body parts or a fish with two heads. It kept the men amused and their minds off the fact they were working harder than any other men and for less pay.
They'd had about four hours sleep each before we'd dropped the nets again this morning. I'd piloted the trawler towards some deep sea canyons known to be a good spot for catching blue fin tuna through the night, sustained by regular cups of Navy coffee; black as sin with a pinch of salt to keep the senses alert. I tripped on the way out through the cabin door and had to shake myself awake, uncomfortable at the thought of appearing weary in front of the men.
"We're cursed!" yelped one of the crew, as he stepped aside revealing indeed something strange.
"Well I'll be damned" I said under my breath.
"What'll we do with them c'ptain? List them as by-catch?" asked Winkle Stu.
By-catch was the industry term for produce caught in the nets unintentionally; like dolphins, which would usually be thrown back or sold on to another fishery if they lived long enough.
"I don't think they qualify"
"What if we chop 'em up and sell 'em as fresh produce?" suggested Seaman Choker.
"Could be considered first degree murder by some. Besides, what would we market them as? Surf and Turf? If they were the other way around they'd make a killer fish-head soup."
"Can't even keep 'em as whores" grumbled Salty Dog Schmidt, "they gots no bits."
"Yes, I've always wondered about that myself" I had to admit to the crew.
"Its bad luck to have a woman on board" Pink Clamshell Quentin reminded us.
"Technically they're only half woman" I pointed out.
"Aye, but there be three of 'em, which is as good as one whole woman" Pink Clamshell Quentin responded bitterly.
"Very well lads, toss them overboard and we'll put this down to sleep deprivation hallucinations."
With my orders given and being followed I headed back to the bridge.
"Ere c'ptain the little redhead with the good singing voice wants to stay aboard with her kooky pet seagull and fatherly dancing lobster."
Just what I needed; to be trapped in a Disney movie.
Jul.31.2006