ISLANDS IN THE STREAM

“Ara,” he called.

“What is it, Tom?” Ara asked. He always swung up onto the bridge and landed as lightly as an acrobat but with the weight of steel.

“What’s the score?”

“Willie’s not himself, Tom. I took him out of the sun and I made him a drink and made him lie down. He’s quiet now but he looks at things too fixedly.”

“Maybe he had too much sun on his bad head.”

“Maybe. Maybe it is something else.”

“What else?”

“Gil and Peters are sleeping. Gil had the duty to keep Peters awake last night. Henry is sleeping and George went in with Antonio.”

“They should be back soon.”

“They will be.”

“We must keep Willie out of the sun. I was stupid to send him forward. But I did it for discipline, without thinking.”

“I am disassembling and cleaning the big ones and I checked all the fuses from the dampness and rain of last night on the other stuff. Last night after the poker game we disassembled and cleaned and oiled everything.”

“Now, with the dampness, we have to make a daily check, whether anything is fired or not.”

“I know,” Ara said. “We ought to disembark Willie. But we can’t do it here.”

“Cayo Francés?”

“We could. But Havana would be better and have them ship him from there. He’s going to talk, Tom.”

Thomas Hudson thought of something and regretted it.

“We never should have taken him after he had a medical discharge and with the bad head,” Ara said.

“I know. But we did. How many damn mistakes have we made?”

“Not too many,” Ara said. “Now may I go down and finish the work?”

“Yes,” Thomas Hudson said. “Thank you very much.”

“A sus órdenes,” Ara said.

“I wish to hell they were better orders,” Thomas Hudson said.

Antonio and George were coming out with the dinghy and Antonio came up on the bridge immediately and let George and Henry hoist the motor and the dinghy aboard.

“Well?” Thomas Hudson said.

“They must have gone by in the night on the last of the breeze,” Antonio said. “They would have seen them at the light if they came into the cut. The old man who has the skiff and the fish traps hadn’t seen any turtle boat. He talks about everything and he would have mentioned it, the lightkeeper said. Do you think we ought to go back and check with him?”

“No. I think they’re down at Puerto Coco or else at Guillermo.”

“That’s about where they would have reached with what wind they had.”

“You’re sure they couldn’t have gone through the cut at night?”

“Not with the best pilot that ever lived.”

“Then we have to find them in the lee of Coco or down by Guillermo. Let’s get the anchor up and go.”

It was a very dirty coast and he kept outside of everything and ran the edge of the hundred-fathom curve. Inshore there was a low rocky coast and reefs and big patches of banks that came out dry with the low tide. There was a four-man watch and Gil was on Thomas Hudson’s left. Thomas Hudson looked toward the shore and saw the beginning of the green of the mangroves and thought, what a hell of a place to be now in this calm. The clouds were piled high already and he thought the squalls would come out earlier. There are about three places past Puerto Coco that I must search, he thought. I had better hook her up a little more and get in there.

“Henry,” he said. “Steer 285 will you? I want to go below and see Willie. Sing out if you sight anything. You don’t need to watch inshore, Gil. Take the starboard watch forward. That’s all too shallow inshore for them to be in there.”

“I’d like to watch inshore,” Gil said. “If you don’t mind, Tom. There’s that crazy channel that makes in almost against the beach and the guide could have taken them there and put them in the mangroves.”

“Good,” said Thomas Hudson. “I’ll send up Antonio.”

“I could see her mast in the mangroves with these big glasses.”

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