Spartina Read Online Free Page A

look at her.”
    Parker said, “Only thing is, I can’t have an outside worker. You know the rule. I’ll have to sign you on as crew for you to work.”
    Dick said, “You going to use a spotter plane? I don’t want to go out and wallow around in the swordfish grounds, just me and you.”
    “Maybe a spotter plane. Got to make some money, I owe the yard. Maybe second time out. You go down, take a look at her, and consult your horoscope. I’ll be here.”

D ick ran his skiff out with a half-dozen pots he’d repaired. He pulled his pots, rebaited a few. Brought in all the heavy-duty ones. He probably would go with Parker. He sold his basket of lobster, fifteen bucks. Groceries, nothing to put by. If he went with Parker, the boys could pull these few pots he’d left in less than an hour. May didn’t much like the boys’ going out alone if there was any sea running. She got a little bit grim if Dick took them out when it was blowing hard or foggy.
    Dick checked the water temperature. Sixty-six degrees. Might be sixty-five out on the swordfish grounds. Sixty-five to sixty-eight was what they favored, and mighty picky they were about it. Dick wished Parker would hire a spotter plane. The rate was fifty bucks an hour plus a bonus of a hundred dollars per fish, no matter what size. The price at the wharf for swordfish was $3.50 a pound. Probably going up as the summer people came in. If Parker and him got just one 150-pound fish they’d pay for the spotter plane and his bonus. With a good fish, two hundred pounds, they’d start to make some real money. With a plane they’d spot the fish ten, fifteen feet down, not just the ones finning. Two, three fish wasn’t out of the question. And if they stuck a real good fish the first day, they could keep the spotter plane working for a couple more days. Parker was generous about shares—of course he did have a busted arm. Dick was supplying the pots for lobster—or red crab if JoxerGoode’s price was good—and Dick was bringing the harpoons, a little more experience, good eyes.
    Dick got to the yard early enough so he didn’t have to argue with the yard manager about whether he was working on Parker’s boat or just looking at her. He got down inside to the stuffing box. Rotten wood and the stuffing all clumped up. Tear it all out. One of the few decent things about the boat was easy access to the stuffing box. And the propeller shaft was true. The hull was fair to poor. Not a design he’d seen around—shallow draft, hard lines. Parker must have bought her down on the Gulf Coast. The half-dory on board was local, but not much good. Dick lined up a couple more strings of heavy pots, one in Westerly, one in North Kingstown, dropped them off alongside Parker’s boat.
Mamzelle.
Dick wasn’t sure the right way to spell it, but he knew it wasn’t Mamzelle.
    Dick stopped by Joxer Goode’s crab-processing plant to check the price. The wells on Parker’s boat were pretty big. The price for crab was about half that of lobster, but if they got to the right spot they might get twice as many. Dick asked if Joxer was there. Joxer had few enough boats going out for crab that he might just give a tip about where to set the pots. One thing Dick knew was even the nearest crabs were way out, on the edge of the continental shelf, took a day or more just to get out to the grounds.
    The secretary told him Joxer was out on his motorboat showing some friends around the salt ponds and then picnicking on Sawtooth Island.
    Dick went home and headed down the creek in his skiff. He took his quahog tongs. He didn’t want to seem to be looking too hard for Joxer. When he got into the pond past Sawtooth he saw Joxer’s boat pulled up on the tiny beach on the southwest of the island. Sleek little water-jet with padded seats, like the inside of a new car. Two couples standing on the beach. Joxer and his wife,both of them great big folks, played lots of sports. Tennis, waterskiing. Joxer had a little