Moonfin Read Online Free Page A

Theirs was the only boat around for miles; none of the other fishing vessels would even touch these grounds. The crew, as brave and crusty fishermen as there ever were, trembled a little in their slickers at the thought of letting their nets down in these waters. Mumblings and whisperings carried across the deck all day—“Otter Island is cursed .”
    Captain Quinn leaned over the rail and watched as the hull of the Windstar cut through the teal water. Neither fish nor fowl was seen for the last ten miles.
    â€œThe sea has fallen asleep,” he muttered darkly.
    â€œThis is where we let down, Captain,” said Max the deck boss. “We’d be wise to pull her around and head back to the mainland. This here place is as exciting as a graveyard.”
    Max never had a problem speaking his mind about Otter Island, and the crew was mighty glad of it. He also never worried about his Captain’s sanity except one day a year—and this was that day. Every year for the last four years they’d come out to this desolate island, throw out their nets, and pull in nothing—or next to nothing. Captain Quinn became a fixed statue on deck, binoculars in hand, and would stare out at the cliffs the whole miserable day. It was a complete waste of time. But it wasn’t for him to question his Captain’s comings and goings, he just did what he was told. Besides, this was personal—a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.
    Jimmy, a thick, hairy greenhorn, passed around a thermos of coffee. He was close to propping his eyes open with toothpicks to keep from falling asleep from sheer boredom.
    â€œYeah—years ago this place teemed with sharks ’cuz of them otters being their favorite food,” he droned, taking a swig of the steaming black brew. “Now they’re getting fat and not a shark to be seen … and no fish around these parts either (he liked to pretend he knew what he was talking about).”
    â€œAre you complainin’?” Captain Quinn said testily. The last thing he needed was a rookie deckhand spouting his mouth off and upsetting the rest of the crew. He knew this was an unusual fishing spot for any of the trawlers and nerves were jumpy.
    â€œNope!” he croaked. “It’s a paying job—b’sides, the less competition for the fish the better.” Jimmy guzzled down his coffee and scurried away. For whatever reason, they were parked off this island, and he would have to wait it out.
    The Captain set his steely-blue eyes toward the north end of the island at Cutter’s Point, his scraggly hair blowing wildly in the wind.
    â€œDang ordinances,” he grumbled to himself. He’d like nothing more than to beach a dinghy up on that sand and look around, but the law prohibited fishing boats within a one mile perimeter of the island to protect the sea otters.
    Max called for a full stop and ordered the troughs and tackle readied for a haul-in.
    â€œEeerrrmm—what do you want to do, sir?” he said briskly, tapping the jib-boom impatiently.
    Quinn let the binoculars fall around his neck and breathed out a defeated sigh. “Let’s pull in the last load and see if there’s anything worth filling the tanks with,” he growled.
    â€œHaul it in!” shouted Max.
    The deck became a flurry of activity as motors churned and hooks were thrown into the sea to pull the line in. The last net was heaved over the rail and steadied inches above the deck trough. Seawater gushed onto the aged wood. Flopping fins and tails strained to squeeze out of their tight rope-prison.
    Captain Quinn turned his back on the crew and continued to look out over the water. He didn’t give one rat’s whisker about the catch. They could be hauling in a pack of diamonds for all he cared.
    Four years, my friend, and I have failed you again.
    â€œHey Cap’n, take a look at this!” called Max. “I ain’t ever seen