Selkies' Skins section two
installment 32
Chapter 20
Finnol's Hunt part one
He scratched hastily at his logbook, the pocket-sized spiral-bound black notebook he always kept with him. In his study back at Seal Point the usually green quill had turned deep red as it zoomed across the pages of his section of the Makay Logbook. The much less flashy, clear, V8 self-inking ballpoint in his hand jotted down notes of the day so far, his position, and the thoughts currently plaguing him. Thoughts that, though embarrassing and he knew full well his family would read it later, may mean comfort for some grandchild at some point.
The water lapped around the pilings, and the familiar smell of salt, fish, and old nets filled his nose along with the diesel of the various engines of the boats around him. The cries of seagulls mingled with those of the seals of the port, loud in the mist of the morning. A seagull flew overhead and dropped a bomb, but it fell harmlessly on the wood of the pier, instead of Finnol's long waterproofed green velvet duster.
"Captain Makay?"
"Aye? You'd be the young Murphy?" Finnol looked up, a few new white hairs showing in his nut-dark hair. His dark blue eyes swept over the lad in front of him.
The boy had light hair that he had stuffed under the usual wool cap that protected the ears of those that spent their time out on the fishing boats. He looked less than twenty, so he would have been very surprised if the lad had seen more than three years on the sea.
"Aye. My Da's onboard, we weren't expecting you for another half hour."
"Ah, I'm a bit of an earlybird because of the tide. Don't want to miss it do we?"
"Because of the tide?" The boy repeated, his eyebrows raising. "We have a motor, we could still get out of port without the tide, though it does make it easier."
"Travelling with the tide is still better. When you've been plying the sea a few more years you'll understand why."
The boy nodded, humoring the man, who he found just as nutty as he found his father. But, in this economy, a job was a job after all. He gestured to the gangplank, smiling a bit. Finnol smiled back and walked on board, murmuring a thanks and feeling glad that he wasn't a vampire, given how a boat could slip between vehicle and home with only momentary notice.
He found the captain in the cabin performing checks, in the usual heavy and warm attire favored by seafarers. Wellingtons gripped the deck, with bluejeans rising up to a thick wool sweater, with a blue wool cap that looked rather like the ones sold in local markets made from Byron's wool.
A brief exchange of pleasantries ensued, each referring to the other by title and surname, shaking hands.
"You look a mite scrawnier than I expected from your voice."
"My wife says the same. Still up for showing me those moving shoals and ghost fish?"
"Surely, if they be there again."
It was short work betwixt the three to have the boat out to sea and beyond the arms of the port. They chugged along the rocky coast to the Murphy's usual fishing haunt.
"The rocks moved again, lookie there." Captain Murphy pointed after idling the engine a safe distance away. "That group used to be some 20 meters in. That first day, they'd moved a bit but I couldn't tell how much. Chalked it up to an early morning and tricks o' the tide we did."
"And the fishing that day?" Finnol asked, scanning the waters for any evidence of merpeople, Selkies or not.
"Was decent enough. The next time was better though, seemed like they was a jumping for the net."
"Net fishing here, Captain? Seems a mite close."
"Casting nets now. Too tricky for the others with things shifting about. Like the sea doesn't know her own mind. Anyway, I had Mac and Duggan with me that day. Was a great haul, filled the hold quite well. But they all just went... puff."
The lad sighed at his father's conversation, hurling his net and pulling it in again as the "old salts" traded tales.
"Puff?"
"Puff." Captain Murphy nodded at Finnol gravely. "I kind of wonders if I was Selkie tricked. 'Course, my boy." He nodded toward his son now. "My boy thinks I'm a crazy old codger for entertaining thoughts o' the like. But I tells him, 'the sea's her own land, full of mysteries. No telling what she's got under 'er skirts till it's too late, no matter how much we men thinks we knows.'" He nodded again and lit his pipe, looking around as if he thought something might suddenly materialize.
"A good philosophy." Finnol agreed. He tried not to wrinkle his nose when the smoke was blown toward him, but it burned. He turned and coughed to clear it from his lungs.
"Didn't realize ye were a sensitive to the smoke. Sorry there." Captain Murphy moved downwind obligingly. "So, what do you reckon? Scientific explanation, or proof o what ever' good sailor ought ter know?"
"Not too sure. I'll have to observe a while, and see a catch."
"Plenty of nets here. Always glad to help with a bit o' scientific research."
The water lapped around the pilings, and the familiar smell of salt, fish, and old nets filled his nose along with the diesel of the various engines of the boats around him. The cries of seagulls mingled with those of the seals of the port, loud in the mist of the morning. A seagull flew overhead and dropped a bomb, but it fell harmlessly on the wood of the pier, instead of Finnol's long waterproofed green velvet duster.
"Captain Makay?"
"Aye? You'd be the young Murphy?" Finnol looked up, a few new white hairs showing in his nut-dark hair. His dark blue eyes swept over the lad in front of him.
The boy had light hair that he had stuffed under the usual wool cap that protected the ears of those that spent their time out on the fishing boats. He looked less than twenty, so he would have been very surprised if the lad had seen more than three years on the sea.
"Aye. My Da's onboard, we weren't expecting you for another half hour."
"Ah, I'm a bit of an earlybird because of the tide. Don't want to miss it do we?"
"Because of the tide?" The boy repeated, his eyebrows raising. "We have a motor, we could still get out of port without the tide, though it does make it easier."
"Travelling with the tide is still better. When you've been plying the sea a few more years you'll understand why."
The boy nodded, humoring the man, who he found just as nutty as he found his father. But, in this economy, a job was a job after all. He gestured to the gangplank, smiling a bit. Finnol smiled back and walked on board, murmuring a thanks and feeling glad that he wasn't a vampire, given how a boat could slip between vehicle and home with only momentary notice.
He found the captain in the cabin performing checks, in the usual heavy and warm attire favored by seafarers. Wellingtons gripped the deck, with bluejeans rising up to a thick wool sweater, with a blue wool cap that looked rather like the ones sold in local markets made from Byron's wool.
A brief exchange of pleasantries ensued, each referring to the other by title and surname, shaking hands.
"You look a mite scrawnier than I expected from your voice."
"My wife says the same. Still up for showing me those moving shoals and ghost fish?"
"Surely, if they be there again."
It was short work betwixt the three to have the boat out to sea and beyond the arms of the port. They chugged along the rocky coast to the Murphy's usual fishing haunt.
"The rocks moved again, lookie there." Captain Murphy pointed after idling the engine a safe distance away. "That group used to be some 20 meters in. That first day, they'd moved a bit but I couldn't tell how much. Chalked it up to an early morning and tricks o' the tide we did."
"And the fishing that day?" Finnol asked, scanning the waters for any evidence of merpeople, Selkies or not.
"Was decent enough. The next time was better though, seemed like they was a jumping for the net."
"Net fishing here, Captain? Seems a mite close."
"Casting nets now. Too tricky for the others with things shifting about. Like the sea doesn't know her own mind. Anyway, I had Mac and Duggan with me that day. Was a great haul, filled the hold quite well. But they all just went... puff."
The lad sighed at his father's conversation, hurling his net and pulling it in again as the "old salts" traded tales.
"Puff?"
"Puff." Captain Murphy nodded at Finnol gravely. "I kind of wonders if I was Selkie tricked. 'Course, my boy." He nodded toward his son now. "My boy thinks I'm a crazy old codger for entertaining thoughts o' the like. But I tells him, 'the sea's her own land, full of mysteries. No telling what she's got under 'er skirts till it's too late, no matter how much we men thinks we knows.'" He nodded again and lit his pipe, looking around as if he thought something might suddenly materialize.
"A good philosophy." Finnol agreed. He tried not to wrinkle his nose when the smoke was blown toward him, but it burned. He turned and coughed to clear it from his lungs.
"Didn't realize ye were a sensitive to the smoke. Sorry there." Captain Murphy moved downwind obligingly. "So, what do you reckon? Scientific explanation, or proof o what ever' good sailor ought ter know?"
"Not too sure. I'll have to observe a while, and see a catch."
"Plenty of nets here. Always glad to help with a bit o' scientific research."
~~~~*~~~~
Previous Contents Next
Live Journal
Dreamwidth
Copyright 2012 by Teresa Garcia
Like the story? Vote here at Top Web Fiction. Don't forget to check out the other great stories at the Web Fiction Guide.
Got a question? Ask it and maybe the answer will be revealed in the story, or in a comment on the extras page if not part of the story itself. Spy a typo? Website code broken? Would you like the episodes to be longer or shorter? Please let me know!
Installment Uploaded here: Jan 24, 2013
Uploaded to Dreamwidth: Jan 23, 2013
Happy birthday to my mate and to my son.
Live Journal
Dreamwidth
Copyright 2012 by Teresa Garcia
Like the story? Vote here at Top Web Fiction. Don't forget to check out the other great stories at the Web Fiction Guide.
Got a question? Ask it and maybe the answer will be revealed in the story, or in a comment on the extras page if not part of the story itself. Spy a typo? Website code broken? Would you like the episodes to be longer or shorter? Please let me know!
Installment Uploaded here: Jan 24, 2013
Uploaded to Dreamwidth: Jan 23, 2013
Happy birthday to my mate and to my son.
