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much a known entity, and I seemed to be quite interesting to some of the crew. Females were rarely found on crabbing boats, either as deckhands or passengers.
    “The final thing I want to go over is regarding Aesa. She is my daughter—my only child. You will treat her as you would treat me, or you will no longer have employment on this boat. Given that we have one of the highest quotas to catch, this happens to be one of the most profitable boats to work on. One wrong move and that all disappears. Have I made myself clear?”
    The group nodded with unchanged expressions. I, however, felt the blood rising to my cheeks. I hadn't expected my father to say anything like that. It was simultaneously off-putting and endearing. Robbie gave me a little wink across the table before he decided to add his two cents.
    “And I'll be keeping an eye on them for you, boss. No worries there. I won't let anything happen to her.”
    “I'll hold you to that, Robert. Do not disappoint me.”
    While the uncomfortable tension grew in the air, I tried to think of a way to escape the situation gracefully, but failed miserably. Luckily for me, my father seemed to have finished, and, with a final “prepare to sail” command, he climbed the stairs leading to the captain's room and disappeared from sight. By the looks on the faces of the crew, they hadn't gotten the motivational speech they were used to. I couldn't help but feel that I was somehow botching things for them already.
    “Hi,” I said with a shy wave. “I'm Aesa. If you guys need me to help out in any way, please let me know.”
    Robbie, Decker, and Andy, the oldest deckhand of the lot, a man who'd been with my father since I was a child, all gave a tight smile and nod while the greenhorn, otherwise known as the lowest man on the totem pole, gave me a sly smile. Judging by his response, his interpretation of my offer left a lot to be desired. He was young, cocky, and had no idea what he was in for, both in regards to me and the boat. A greenhorn's job was grueling and thankless. Most never made it through a full season. A few were able to hold out just long enough to be moved up. Others died at sea due to either carelessness or ignorance.
    I had grown up knowing many of those.
    The last crewman simply gave me a cold stare from across the table. He looked roughly my age, which meant, if he'd been a crabber his entire working career, he was likely younger than me. He appeared hardened and impossible to read. A tattoo on his neck made me think he'd done time at some point, having seen many like it during my time interning at the inner city hospitals in Columbus. Something about him made me wary.
    “Aesa, why don't you go finish unpacking and join your dad?” Robbie called to me, pulling my gaze away from the unnamed crew member. “The crew needs to gear up and head out on deck to help your father push off.”
    “Sounds good to me,” I agreed and disappeared down the hall to my room, locking the door behind me. I collapsed onto the small bed and pressed my head back against the thin pillow, thinking that perhaps I'd made a mistake in coming, that I didn't belong there. Many thought women being on a vessel brought bad luck. I hoped I wouldn't prove to be just that.
     
    * * *
     
    Time passed strangely on a crab boat. The crew routinely worked through the night, pulling twenty-four to thirty-six hour shifts in order to either set the pots along a predetermined string or retrieve them from the depths of the sea to determine if the count of their catches was on track to meet their allotted quota. Crab could be an elusive creature, often traveling away from where the skipper thought they should be. Prospect strings were cast out to soak for hours as a means of testing certain areas of the sea floor. If they came up producing high enough numbers, the pots were re-baited and thrown back in. If not, they were stacked on deck, a grueling and time-consuming process, in order to sail away and