Free The Night I Flunked My Field Trip #5 by Henry Winkler

reaction,” he said. “Captain tells me your successor, Mr. McKelty, is having a difficult time of it.”
    I started to snicker, but stopped when Mr. Gladson shot me a look.
    â€œSorry to hear that, sir,” I said, trying to look serious. “He wanted that job so badly.”
    â€œThis shift, you two will be line handlers,” Mr. Gladson said. “You’ll tie down the ship for the night. You know any knots?”
    â€œNo, sir,” I answered.
    He handed me a book that had been tucked under his arm. It was called One Hundred Most Useful Nautical Knots. Oh, boy, I didn’t like the sound of that. I had so much trouble just learning to tie my shoes. Tying a boat knot seemed impossible, let alone one hundred knots!
    â€œStudy this book,” said Mr. Gladson. “It’s the first thing sailors read right after they learn to throw a clockwise hitch on a cleat.”
    What I wanted to say was, I have no idea what you’re talking about. But instead I said, “Will do, sir. Can’t wait, sir.”
    â€œLearn the basic knots,” he said. “Bowline, square knot, figure eights, cleat hitch. When you’ve got that down, use a hitch to tie the mooring lines on the starboard side to the two cleats on the dock.”
    â€œWill do, sir.”
    I said it again! What is wrong with you, Hank? Why are you agreeing to do something when you have no idea what you are agreeing to do?
    â€œWhich knot should we use, sir?” Collin asked.
    â€œWhatever feels the most secure,” Mr. Gladson said.
    He started to walk away, and then he stopped to face us again. “By the way, gentlemen. If you complete this assignment, you’ll get the line handlers certificate of merit. Captain will give it to you himself. Good luck.”
    â€œLet’s get busy,” Collin said after Mr. Gladson had left. “It’d be fun to show that captain we’re not the losers he thinks we are.”
    Collin and I went up to the front of the boat. Collin picked up some coiled ropes and lugged them over to us. I looked out on the water and for the first time, really noticed where we were. The Brooklyn Bridge stretched across the river right near us. I know it’s just a bridge, but, boy, is it a beautiful thing to look at. It’s like a shiny, steel spiderweb without the spider, strung with lights. If I turned and looked out into the harbor, I could see the Statue of Liberty. She was all lit up too. She looked a whole lot better in person than on Principal Love’s cheek, I’ll tell you that.
    â€œEarth to Hank,” Collin said, tapping me on the shoulder. “Mooring lines. Cleats. Knots. Sound familiar?”
    I guess my mind had wandered off. It likes to do that.
    â€œDo you have any idea what exactly we’re supposed to do?” I asked Collin, snapping to attention.
    â€œNot really. But we can figure it out.”
    He looked out onto the dock and thought for a minute. He pointed to a big wedge-shaped metal thing sticking up from the dock. A fat rope was tied around it, holding the boat in place while it bobbed in the water.
    â€œI’ll bet that metal thing is a cleat,” he said. “Do you agree, Hank?”
    â€œCouldn’t agree more,” I said.
    I had no idea what a cleat was. What I did know was that Collin was smart. I could almost see the thoughts racing around his mind.
    Collin picked up two loose ropes that were coiled up on the deck near us.
    â€œThese must be the mooring lines,” he said. “What do you think, Hank?”
    â€œI have to say yes to that,” I said. “They look like mooring lines to me. Indeed they do.”
    I wouldn’t know a mooring line from a dotted line. But who was I to disagree with Collin Sebastian Rich the Fourth?
    Collin took a flashlight out of his pocket and shined it onto the dock. We could see two smaller metal things jutting up behind the big one.
    â€œI’ll bet those