Free Jonah Watch by Jack; Cady

aside, or stepped from the salesrooms of ship's chandlers, or came blinking from bars, coal yards, fish sheds. In sympathy, it seemed, with the instincts of Lamp, each man in harbor wanted to be able to say that he had "seen it." Hester C ., the star of the show, was set loose from Abner , its engine started, and a seaman guided it to the end of the pier where it would huddle like a small, dark demon flanked by the bows of Adrian and Abner .
    Wide-hipped workboats moved like aging bankers with ambitions killed by the redundancy of profit. They splashed to Ezekiel and Clara , put lines aboard, chugged with bored avariciousness toward repair docks in Portland. In South Portland an ambulance appeared at the foot of the pier to receive the faceless Spaniard. Aboard Adrian , men stopped work, drifted to the main deck, spilled slowly and respectfully down the gangway, following Levere. In its entire battered history, Abner had never enjoyed so many line handlers in attendance on a pier.
    "No need for it, chum, no need—its fuel allocations are cut—truth?—we're not cruising—is that true, Cap—true—true?—yes—okay, but look at those guys—no need for it, chum—yes, but just look at those guys—"
    Abner 's fantail was like a stubby explosion of neglect. In no man's memory had there ever been Irish pennants, discarded chafing gear, tangled line piled, heaped, shoved aside on that fantail. The uncovered winch was skewed, no doubt in range of eventual repair, but enough tilted to alarm the heart. A gear locker sat dented, and paint on the heavy steel was indifferently shattered by an exploding line, while above the locker a floodlight dangled, broken from its base and wearing shards of the glass lens. The new towline lay in two unconnected mounds, like rubble.
    Clearly they were in a bad way on Abner . The dago radioman Diamond, ordinarily as clean and efficient as an electronics tube, appeared at the rail where, while docking, he customarily had no business. He grumbled dispassionate instructions to line handlers. His black hair was lank and filled with grease, his shirt ripped, and a mixture of oil and soot scarred his face below a formerly white hat that seemed to have been dipped in the bilges.
    A bosun's mate limped, leaned heavily against a stanchion like a man supported only by his conscience, while seamen stood stupidly at the rail, holding lines that they studied with the dull curiosity of idiots. Abner 's captain slumped on the wing, muttering helm and engine orders to yeoman Wilson, who stood inside at the telegraph and muttered to the helmsman. A quartermaster wandered aimlessly on the flying bridge, like a man trying to remember an errand.
    Abner 's crew, it developed, had been standing six on, two off, six on, two off, for over five days. Had the crew been able to sleep on those two-hour breaks, their job would have only been terribly difficult.
    "It was just a nothing kind of sea," yeoman Wilson told yeoman Howard. "Maybe ten- to twelve-foot swells, but they were wide. No matter how you rigged, part of the tow would be hitting the backside of one just as you were coasting down the front of another. Line broke six times."
    Yeoman Howard, recalling similar fiascos, although none so great, and with a resolution to do better by Lamp whom he had possibly in some way offended, took his feelings of indetermination to Lamp.
    "The winch tore up on the first day when they tried to adjust the tow to that crazy sea. They walked the line the rest of the time. All hands."
    "New towline ... " Had Lamp been informed of God's suicide, his universe could hardly have been more shaken.
    "They went through every scrap of line they had aboard," Howard said. "They had to pump Clara three times. Ezekiel was yelling about being in the middle of the tow, afraid it would spring the keel."
    "It must of sprung the keel," said Lamp. "They wouldn't tow to a dry dock just for a busted engine."
    "Helmsman on the lobster boat, helm watch,