Authors: Peter Matthiessen
The mirror glints.
Evil Eye, huh?
Speedy, I see you lookin at me funny, so I tellin you now dat I never took de left-hand path, dancin widdershins, and witchin people, all of dat; I never worked obeah in my life. But de same day dat dey accused me, something tell me to turn around in de road, and dere I see one of dem take a nail and drive it down into my footprint where I left it in de white marl road dat run down past dere cabin. So y’see, it ain’t de law dat made me sail from home.
Speedy is silent. Wodie lies back again, sighing.
Oh, yes. To go up dere in dat high thicket of bush, and den cut all of dem tops in de day, and den come back out. And after all dat, you never made nothin anyways. I very hoppy I don’t have to do
dat
no more. It like de old people say: I ain’t gone to bother fungo with
dat
.
Speedy is silent.
Oh, yes. I must be honest, I thought a while before I come aboard, for Copm Raib is famous in de whole length of de island for sayin his opinion just de way it come to him. But it seem like de thing for me to do was to sail down to de Cays.
The
Lillias Eden
moves off the bank into deep water. On the new course, the pitch increases, and the windlass soars and plunges on night skies.
The men crouch outside the galley, clutching their supper plates and cups, bracing hard with their legs and shoulders. The evening meal—cornbread and rice—is gulped down quickly in the weak light from the naked bulb that swings back and forth over the engine hatch.
Bad thing we never got a fish.
Bad sign. Not even a domn barra.
I seen a ring around de sun
too rough. Water all cloudy dat
way, fish can’t see.
Maybe it de bait. Dat goddom lard.
Mon get sick of rice and beans. Least he could do is corry a little bacon, little cornbeef, something like dat. Mon dat don’t eat meat get kind of dizzy.
Meat worth
money
, mon. Ain’t like de old days. And crews ain’t worth shit with so many lookin for a job.
Well, a mon dat would sign aboard of de
Eden
ought to be fed for nothin. In de insane asylum. (
laughter
) In de
insane
asylum!
Dat coffee something
bad
!
Dass cause de scuttlebutt never cleaned into de proper fashion. More oil in dere den water.
Dass right. All de food taste of dat diesel.
What say, Buddy? Got big ears dere?
Dat boy okay. He not say nothin to his doddy, dat right, Buddy?
Dat cause he scared. Raib scare’m fore he learn’m.
He back dere right now scarin poor old Vemon.
Well, Vemon deserve dat, Speedy, he such a goddom fool.
No, mon. He just
play
de fool, cause for him dass de way life go de best.
boom
The ship shudders under jolt and buffet of night seas. In the bow, legs spread, Raib keeps his balance, taking bearings on the stars.
What he up to now?
If he can figure how far we is from de point where de star is directly overhead, and den he do dat with another star, den de ship’s position is at de longitude where de two lines crosses.
Shit! Dey too much weather to know where de
stars
is at, nemmine dis goddom boat!
We way out into de middle of nowhere, mon.
Athens crumples an orange cigarette package and throws it at the rail. The wind catches it and blows it back inboard, and it skids aft along the deck. He sighs, fingering his collar button.
I used to dat. Nowhere is where I been getting to all de days of my life. I like Vemon dat way—life sailin by without me.
The men move into the stern, and Speedy relieves Vemon.
… dis foolin round with reefs, not in de night.
We be okay. Beat out dere five, six miles off de bank, run south again till mornin.
It like Byrum say, we gone to miss a day dat way, and de season goin. We very close to May. Dem turtle gone be started south to Turtle Bogue.
Ever run south down dat way, Speedy? Costa Rica way? Limón? Ships bananas and coffee out of dere. Cacao? Well, dat way you would pass Tortuguero. What dey calls Turtle Bogue.
Bluefields de farthest south I sailed.
Yah, mon. I been to Bluefields.
Well, why de turtle go so far off to de southward?
Go to lay dere eggs. De she-turtle haul out on dis long beach, black-lookin sand, y’know, with big seas rollin in, and de he-turtle lay around dere just behind de surf lookin to coot dem as dey come and go. Some dem big old bastard lookin to coot so bad dat you can come up alongside and harpoon dem, dey dat busy. You take a old board and stick a kind of a head on it, like a turtle stickin his head up, and by Christ he come up and try to coot
dat
.
Fall in de water, mon, you in bad trouble. You gets grinded.
Dose he-turtle, dey like Athens dat way—dey coot
any
thing!
Look who talkin! I heard dat Miss Gwen gone break her engagement to her intended dere, Mist’ Byrum Watler of Batabano, West Bay, cause he so free with dat Canadian squints dat comes up to de
Blue Horizon
.
Byrum hoots.
Now Athens, y’know, he thought he was a white mon till he lain ’longside some dem girl come down lately from Canada!
Dem
people is what you call
fish-belly
white!
A white mon wouldn’t get no Canadian squints, I tellin you dat: dey gets plenty white up where dey come from. Dem girls is far from home, and what dey wants is de darker de better. (
shrugs
) It all dat
snow
, dey say.
Byrum lies back with his head on his hands.
Well, anyways, about dis time of de year, de turtle have started southward to de Bogue. But de shes don’t go ashore till round about de month of July, and dey some still goin ashore dere in September. Comin down to de actual deposit of de eggs, August and September is dere peaks. Course, dey goes ashore two, three times—lay maybe three, four hundred eggs by de time dey done. Likes de full moon. And de eggs hatches out two full moon after dat.
If dey makes it.
If dey makes it. Cause dem Sponnish don’t let’m lay dere eggs, even, before dey turns’m. Turtle agent has de Indians rollin de she-turtle as dey comes ashore, and den when de boat come, dey send de turtles back to sea with a buoy tied to de fin, cause de seas too heavy for de boat to land dere. And de boats grob de turtle den, take dem over to Limón. Course, dey times dey
finds
her layin. Fore she comes ashore, she very coward, and she lay real quiet in de shallers; she see anything on de beach, she slip back into de sea. But once she started, mon, dey ain’t no stoppin: she go right on with dogs diggin out de eggs fast as she drops dem, and de goddom Indians tyin de buoy to her fin.
Got calipee poachers, too, y’know. Just grob dat turtle and spin her over and carve dat calipee right off, and leave de rest. And de turtle layin dere, still blinkin, with her belly laid wide open to de dogs and birds.
Calipatch and calipee, mon.
Oh, mon. You seen all dat, Byrum?
Copm Allie Ebanks told me dat, so I knows it good: Copm Allie knows a feller dat was dere and
seen
it. And he tellin de manner dat dey hatchin, too, beginnin along about September-October. Dem little fellas come scromblin up out de sand, ain’t one of dem big as your ear, and rummagin dere way up through four feet deep of dat black sand, and head straight for de water. Don’t even look around to get dere bearins—dey just
go
. Feel dat water and head straight for de sea. Some dem nests are way up in de bushes, y’know, out of sight de sea, but ain’t one of dem young turtle makes a mistake—dey
know
.
Green turtle very mysterious, mon.
Yah. But Copm Allie say he don’t believe dat one thirty-second of what leaves de beach at Turtle Bogue ever makes it.
De most of dem never makes it to de water.
Dass it. All kinds birds and rats and wildcats, jaguars, y’know, and dogs, and what dey calls ringtails—all dem vermin comes out de swamps and jungles dat lays just behind dat beach, and wild hogs, too, dey say—all of dat is swarmin de
beaches, and de few dat slips past de vermin got to scromble through dat big surf dere, which is one of de worst in all de world, and dem dat gets past de breakers, dey got to deal with all de sharks and fish in de deep water, and de mon-o’-war birds pickin at’m from de top when dey surfaces to get dere breath. In de mornin time when dose young ones dat come out from de night is restin in de water, dat mornin de sky is littered with birds. Mon-o’-war birds. De boobies don’t grob dem so much, but de mon-o’-war do. Dey millions of birds dere. Dat mornin de sea is covered with baby turtle and de sky is black with birds, just
black
with mon-o’-war birds, swoopin down. Dey is very few dat gets away. Oh,
very
few!
Oh, I like to see dat sight! Dat is a sight dat I would like to see!
Millions of birds at Turtle Bogue dere in September. In de time of de hatchin of de green turtle, dat old empty coast is a sight to see: dat black sand and dat ugly sea, and dat sky black with big black birds in all dere millions, and de black jungle layin dere behind.
Mon, oh mon. You seen all
dat
?
I tellin you, it ain’t
me
seen it; it were a fella dat were known firsthand to Copm Allie!
The men fall silent; Raib is standing at the edge of light.
Well, it a pity dat dat kind of mornin ain’t
people’s
first experience of dis life. I mean to say, lookin over dis crew, I think people had ought to start out with de same chance in life—one out of thirty-two. Dat take care of most of de goddom Sponnish and Jamaicans.
You
be de one in
your
thirty-two, huh, Copm Raib?
Oh,
I
make it, okay! (
laughs
) It all of your
selfs
dat you got to worry about.
Byrum heaves to his feet. He goes to the leeward rail to scrape his plate, brushing the Captain closer than is necessary. When Raib
half turns, gazing after him, Byrum ignores him; he speaks loudly from the rail, unbuttoning his fly.
Oh, yes! Dey very few lives to tell de tale! And dem few dat makes it disappears. Ain’t
no
mon ever seen a baby turtle de first year. Disappears, mon. Vanish. De first ones dat you see, dey go five pound or better, look like a dish. (
pause
) Dat right, Copm Raib?
As the men turn one by one to watch, Raib slaps at his sleeve where Byrum brushed him.
Mon dat know all dat much about turtle, dat is a valuable mon. I s’prised dey let you off de
A.M. Adams
.
Byrum, pissing, calls over his shoulder.
Never let me off—dey fired me! (
buttoning
) We all gets fired now and den in life.
So you say den: I ain’t had much experience of it. De onliest time in all dis life I ever got fired off a job was on a United Fruit vessel out of Bluefields, and de other quartermaster were Desmond Eden. He were smugglin arms cause we rerouted to Colombia; he had dem hid under de deckhouse floor. I was not into de deal, so I was innocent, but dey grob me all de same. You call dat justice? I mean to say, Desmond frig me
good
!
Copm Desmond Eden! After all dat fella done, all de chances dat he took, and de money made, he right back down here in de Cays where he begun!
Dat de most awfullest mon in Caymans. He still owin me two hundred dollars for dat sharkskin, but it worth dat and more just to be rid of him. He a good worker, I say dat for him—dat mon dere ain’t afraid of work. But nobody give him a job no more; it jail where he belong.
Well, Desmond generous, I say dat—
Generous, you said? By God, I never seen
dat
. He had his woman shiftin along, beggin and stealin, even when he had money. Call dat
borrowin
—done dat to my wife. So Ardith told Desmond woman something dat she didn’t like to hear, and I was very pleased with how she hondled
dat
part of de motter—
If she lose Raib’s money, she lucky she still alive. Raib treat dat poor woman so bad, she so scared of him, she don’t know if she comin or goin. And dass de second wife, y’know—wore out de first one.
Some fellas, you got to get’m to de place where you can hondle dem. Don’t do dat, you got trouble. It like Honduras (
groans
): dey beat me up! I got such a floggin down dere in dat drydock, it were terrible. I got a
floggin
! (
grins
) One good thing about it: when I left down dere, I got away owin three hundred dollars and maybe eighty from de amount dat dey had wanted to steal from me. Dey left me go with de promise dat I would pay dem, but I told’m—I sent back a message with de
Daydream
—dat dey would have to come to Grand Cayman to receive dat money. In de Court of Justice! I see dem fellas in de Court of Justice!