Chesapeake Minuet (eBook)
376 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-9469-0 (ISBN)
The book follows the life of a Chesapeake waterman from about the age of six, though World War II and into his marriage. it is also about the schooling of a waterman and his trials and tribulations tha the war caused him. It is also about his love for the Bay, his friends and family.
Chapter 1
The sun was just above the horizon on this clear October morning in the fall of 1948. The day had dawned clear and fair, with a few clouds in the early morning sky. A brisk wind was blowing down the Chesapeake Bay against an in-coming tide, creating an uneven chop. With every plunge of the bow into each wave, the wind was slicing the tops of the waves off, then sent the spindrift across the deck of the Skipjack. Also carried on the wind was the rattle of chain, the curses of human voices, the splashes of dredges hitting the water, the twang of cables coming taught as the dredges bit into the bottom mud and begin filling with oysters.
As the dredges start to fill with oysters the Skipjacks come almost to a virtual halt, as if they had hit a sandbar. The large wooden mast and boom scream in agony as the sails billow and strain with a vim that shacks every timber, all the way to the keel.
One of the dreg cables starts rattling, as a lump of oysters break loose from the bottom. The Skipjack began to move forward ever so slowly. Then the other dredge cable begins to rattle as the Skipjack surges down the unseen oyster bar, for the first lick of the season. (A lick is one trip down an oyster bar.) Twenty odd boats move up and down the bar with such precision that when seen from a distance, gives the illusion of man-made clouds dancing a minuet upon the wave crests.
On board the ‘Catherine C’, Captain, Edward ‘Stoney’ Stone, peers over the starboard side at the dredge cable with a practiced eye that has been honed over the years by thousand upon thousand of licks up-and-down oyster bars all over the Bay. Stoney takes a quick look around the deck of the Skipjack, making sure that there is no loose gear for the crew to trip over.
The dredging of oysters under sail is dangerous work and Stoney could think of many a good man with a finger, or toe, or even an eye missing, all due to a piece of loose gear. Seeing nothing a drift, he bellows in a loud clear voice. “Aboard the Catherine C, mind your pinkies and stinkies, up starboard grudge.”
The windless on the forward deck starts to wine, taking a strain on the dredge cable. As the dredge comes to the surface the windless is stopped to let the waves and the forward movement of the boat wash as much of the mud from the oysters as possible. With brute force the two men on deck drag the dredge full of oysters, old shell, mud and other debris over the side, which can weigh over three pounds. They shack it free of everything onto the deck. The dredge is then dropped unceremoniously back over the side and into water for another bite. (A bite is one dredge full of oysters.)
The windless on the forward deck is now powered a five-horse power gasoline engine that drives a hydraulic pump with a capstan. In previous years the dredges were lifted from the bottom of the Bay and on board by hand with a block and tackle.
The two men working on deck will then kneel on deck culling the oysters from the old shells and debris then inspect the outer shell, looking for spat (baby oysters) and muscles that are knocked off the larger shell with a welders chipping hammer.
While inspecting the oyster they make sure that the oyster is of legal size. (three inches from hinge to point). The oysters are then thrown either into the hold or on deck against the far side ensuring that the catch is evenly distributed as the day progresses. The debris and old shells are then pushed back over the side. From the first few bites, the largest oyster will be left on deck against the cabin forward balk-head for the cook to make lunch with.
As the two men steeped across the deck to repeat the same procedure with the port dredge, ‘Cookie’ the cook, steeps through the cabin hatch, takes a deep breath then look around the Bay at the other boats then to the small pile oysters sitting on deck. When the port drudge hits the deck, he places a weathered eye on the sail and rigging.
“Mighty find weather for opening day, I’d say Cap’n.”
“Yeah Cookie, I’d say so.
“Most like ‘bout a sixteenth bushel a bite.” Cookie said as he watched the two young men culling oysters.
“Maybe a seventy, seventy-five day.”
“I’d say a hundred or mo.”
“I sure hope so.”
“Cap’n, I’m going to get me some of them thar old arsters for some stew. Which you want, he or she?”
“Boy that’s a relief. I thought that maybe you had come up here just to harass the rest of us poor working slobs.”
“Well yeah, that may be too. But what you want, he or she?”
“Dang Cookie,” The captain said, with mock indignation. “how many years have you worked on the Catherine C.? You know Cookie, sometimes I think that your nothing but a damn chicken necker and this is first time that you ever left the pier.” (A ‘chicken necker’ is every person that is not a Waterman. Or a person that goes out onto the Chesapeake Bay on weekends to sport crab with a piece of string and a piece of chicken, most likely a neck.)
“Cap’n, you don’t have to insult me just ‘cause I’s ask a question that we both know the answer to.” Cookie said, with pretend hurt. “Blast your eyes, you know damn well that I’s the only cook that has ever worked this here lady.” The big man said, as he rubbed his hand lovingly over the cabin roof.
With a sparkle of mischief in his eye, Stoney looked at his friend and mentor, knowing that every skipjack crew would give extra pay to have Cookie on their boat. “And that’s another thing. It cost me a fortune in candy bars just to keep the crew fed and happy, what with the sweal that you try to call food.”
“Why don’t you just get yourself another cook then?”
“I’d do just that if you’d stop beating up everyone that applies for the job.”
“You keep it up twerp. I’ll take you across my knee and tan your hide like I did when you were a young’n, and you knows that I’s big enough to still do it too.”’
“Big enough! Ha! That’s another thing. I noticed that the old girl here was a little sluggish this morning coming across the Bay. Nothing like yesterday when she seemed to skip across the water. Then I remembered you were aboard today.”
Cookie rubbed his ample belly, saying. “It’s paid for.”
“Yeah, by my daddy and me.”
“You better watch your mouth whelp or I‘ll chain you to the binnacle and give you nothing but bread and water for the entire arster season.”
“It may be a lot better than having to eat that stuff that you try to pass off as food.” Stoney said, keeping up the friendly barter.
“Hell Cap’n,” Came a voice from up forward. “Thar’s one thing that would be worst and that him sitting on you.”
“Yeah Jim Bob, I think that you maybe right”. The captain shot back.”
“I’d almost rather be a chicken necker than have Cookie siting on me.”
“Yeah John, being a chicken necker would be a fate almost worse than death. But then again!” The captain said, with a chuckle.
Cookie walked forward shacking his head then filled the bucket that he had brought from below with the largest oyster to take below to be opened then be used to make stew, patties, and fritters for lunch. As he was going back down the ladder into the cabin, he said, “Cap’n, are you going to answer me or not?”
“What’s that Cookie?”
“He or she?” (she oyster stew is made the same way that he is made except that she has some finely chopped potato and onion and a teaspoon of tapioca.)
“I don’t care what I eat’, you know that”
“I know! Remember that time that I made you my famous stone soup and you eat it stones and all?”
“Yeah, my dad almost died laughing when you told me, that the stones came out of the back end of that old goat you keep around your place and the broth was goat pee.”
“Then after you heaved your dinner over the side to feed the fish, I told you that the stones were really little meat balls and the broth wasn’t goat pee but salt water.” They both chuckled at the thoughts from the past.
“Cookie, I often wondered who’s idea that was.”
“You know, at the time you blamed your dad, your Uncle Ken, Your Uncle Reds, you even blamed me and all the time it was your mom’s idea. She thought that it might have some effect on eating habits and slow you down some.”
“Well, it worked for her, because whenever I would start eating like a pig mom would just say something about making some of your famous stone soup.”
They both once again chuckled at the memories of bygone days. Then Cookie said. “Enough hog jawing Cap’n, what it be, he or she?”
Stoney looked at Cookie then past him and bellowed.” Hay baby brother?’”
John hated it when Stoney called him that, even though there were almost ten years between them. “Yeah Cap’n?’
“Seeing how it’s your first full season, it’s your call. He or she?”
“Cap’n, I prefer she myself”
“I guess that’s the best choice.” The Captain said, as he heard a mumble coming from the companionway. “Dang Cookie, what in tarnation are you grumbling about now?”
“I just said that that was a good choice and I wish that you Stones would learn to make up my mind a little faster, a man could turn gray waiting for------. God in heaven’s name Cap’n, what’s wrong? You look like you...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 9.6.2023 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen |
| ISBN-10 | 1-6678-9469-2 / 1667894692 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-1-6678-9469-0 / 9781667894690 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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