Free Far Tortuga by Peter Matthiessen

climbs to the crosstrees of the foremast, where he stands upright at the crotch of gaff and mast. He holds the mast with his right hand and the shrouds with his left, spread-eagled on the wind, hair blowing, squinting at long ridges of white surf where the wind drives seas across the coral. He points into the north, lets his arm fall; a moment later he raises his palm. Will cries Raib’s signals to the blind helm; the helmsman echoes them.
    Port!
    PORT!
    Steady!
    STEAD-DAY!
    Steady, Byrum!
    STEAD-DAY!
    The ship goes down along Old Pointer Reef to the west end of Half Moon, then heads due south toward Logwood Cay. The shallow banks are roiled by days of wind, but from the crosstrees can beseen dark smudges of the coral heads below the surface. The banks near Logwood Cay are in the lee of Half Moon, and here the water clears.
    Can’t cross to Cape Gracias
dis
afternoon—no, mon.
    Den we lost a day’s fishenin.
    We lost dat when he lost de longitude at Gorda Bank.
    The puffs of green in the hot tropic sky to the southeast are the Savanna Reefs, called by the turtlers Serrarers.
    See dere, Speedy? De
Majestic
layin out dere still.
    The Captain perches in the crosstrees, bare feet swinging. When four olive-colored porpoise roll up along the hull, he skins down the rigging and runs for the bow, grabbing up a long boat pole as he goes. He bends a light line to the pole, wraps the bitter end around his wrist, and practices harpoon throws at the porpoise.
    The creatures return to be tagged over and over. One glides a moment on its side: its eye regards the playing man.
    Raib stops short, stops smiling: he does not throw.
    The creatures go.
    Coiling the line, Raib confronts the empty sea; he blinks as if awakening, then walks slowly toward the stern, where the men are resting. Eyes shadowed by their hat rims, they watch their captain come.
    By God, I still pretty handy with de harpoon, I must say dat! I pretty good for an old fella!
    You de best mon aboard
dis
ship, ain’t dat right, Copm?
    Well, dat ain’t sayin so very much, aboard of here. (
laughs
) I ain’t sayin but what is fair when I announce dat I is de best mon on dis ship: I mean to say, de best, and de quickest, and den de strongest, and den also de smartest, bein I know so much about green turtle and pilotin and de way of de sea!
    Byrum lies back, sighing.
    We lucky to have you, Copm Raib. Dat right, Vemon? You a very lucky fella, Vemon, to have dat kind of coptin in dis life—might make a seaman out you yet.
    Seamanship? By Christ, when it come to seamanship dere ain’t no mon aboard has got me beat! Maybe de mate dere got me when it come to turtle, but talk about
seamanship
, dat is something else!
    Will got you beat dere too, you goddom fool.
    Will, you got papers? I askin you, you got
papers
?
    Will shifts his tobacco bulge from one cheek to the other, but says nothing.
    You take dem papers and wipe you ass, mon—we talkin about
seamanship
!
    Dat what
I
talkin about, Byrum! Seamanship! Mon with no papers, and he calls hisself a mate!

    Green mango? Copm Raib? We gots a bag here of green mango. From dat big mango tree over Pedro way, back of Savanna—know de one? Dat old provision ground?
    Dat ain’t de biggest tree. De biggest mango—
    Now de biggest
almond
tree, dat de one dere in Georgetown. Dat tree rose from de famous old-time seed dat were cast up on de beach at Bodden Town. Found dere I believe by de great great-aunt of Osley Webster. Dat how come we gots almond trees in Grand Cayman.
    Some nice almond tree in West Bay, too, nearby Copm Allie house. You come to de crossin and den you go about thirty, forty fathom down dat road—
    Dere he is!
    What Byrum pointin at?
    Green turtle, mon!
    You mean hox-bill? I see two hox-bill from de masthead soon’s we come into de lee—
    Green turtle! Dere he head come up again! Sixty, seventy fathom off de bow—dere! You lookin at’m!
    The turtle is inset in the green sea, and the broad bay-colored shell, awash,