“I’d like to watch inshore,” Gil said. “If you don’t mind, Tom. There’s that crazy channel that makes in almost against the beach and the guide could have taken them there and put them in the mangroves.”
“Good,” said Thomas Hudson. “I’ll send up Antonio.”
“I could see her mast in the mangroves with these big glasses.”
“I doubt it like hell. But you might.”
“Please, Tom. If you don’t mind.”
“I agreed already.”
“I’m sorry, Tom. But I thought a guide might take her in there. We went in there once.”
“And we had to come out the same way we went in.”
“I know. But if the wind failed them and they had to hide in a hurry. We don’t want to overrun them.”
“Right. But we are a long way out for you to see a mast. Besides they would probably cut mangroves to hide the mast from the air.”
“I know,” Gil said with Spanish stubbornness. “But I have very good eyes and these are twelve-power glasses and it is calm so I see well and—”
“I said it was OK before.”
“I know. But I had to explain.”
“You’ve explained,” Thomas Hudson said. “And if you find a mast you can stick it up my ass with peanuts on it.”
Gil felt a little hurt at this but he thought it was funny, especially about the peanuts, and he searched the mangroves until the big glasses almost pulled the eyes out of his head.
Below, Thomas Hudson was talking with Willie and watching the sea and the land. It was always strange how much less you saw when you were down from the bridge, and, as long as things went well below, he felt a fool to be anywhere but at his post. He tried always to keep the necessary contact and avoid the idiocy of the uninspecting inspection. But he had delegated more and more authority to Antonio, who was a much better sailor than he was, and to Ara who was a much better man. They are both better men than I am, he thought, and yet I still should be in command, using their knowledge and talent and their characters.
“Willie,” he said. “How are you really?”
“I’m sorry about acting like a fool. But I’m sort of bad, Tom.”
“You know the rules about drinking,” Thomas Hudson said. “There aren’t any. I don’t want to use chickenshit words like the honor system.”
“I know,” Willie said. “You know I’m not a rummy.”
“We don’t ship rummies.”
“Except Peters.”
“We didn’t ship him. They gave him to us. He has his problems, too.”
“Old Angus is his problem,” Willie said. “And his goddam problems get to be our problems too damn fast.”
“We’ll skip him,” Thomas Hudson said. “You have anything else eating you?”
“Just in general.”
“How?”
“Well I’m half crazy and you’re half crazy and then we’ve got this crew of half saints and desperate men.”
“It isn’t bad to be half saint and half desperate man.”
“I know it. It’s wonderful. But I was used to things being more regular.”
“Willie, there’s nothing eating you really. The sun bothers your head and I’m sure drinking isn’t good for it.”
“I’m sure, too,” Willie said. “I’m not trying to be a fuck-up, Tom. But did you ever go really crazy?”
“No. I always missed it.”
“It’s a lot of bother,” Willie said. “And however long it lasts, it lasts too long. But I’ll stop drinking.”
“No. Just drink easy like you always did.”
“I was using the drinking to stave it off.”
“We’re always using drinking for something.”
“Sure. But this wasn’t any gag. Do you think I’d lie to you, Tom?”
“We all lie. But I don’t think you’d lie on purpose.”
“Go on up on your bridge,” Willie said. “I see you watching the water all the time like it was some girl that was going to get away from you. I won’t drink anything except sea water maybe and I’ll help Ara break them to pieces and put them together again.”
“Don’t drink, Willie.”
“If I said I won’t, I won’t.”
“I know.”
“Listen, Tom. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“How bad is it with you?”
“I guess pretty bad.”
“Can you sleep?”
“Not much.”
“Last night?”
“Yes.”
“That was from walking the beach,” Willie said. “Go on up and forget about me. I’ll be working with Ara at our trade.”
XIII
They had searched the beach for tracks at Puerto Coco and they searched the mangroves beyond with the dinghy. There were some really good places for a turtle boat to hide. But they found nothing and the squalls came out earlier with heavy rain that made the sea look as though it were leaping into the air in white, spurting jets.
Thomas Hudson had walked the beach and gone back inland behind the lagoon. He had found the place where the flamingoes came at high tide and he had seen many wood ibis, the cocos that gave the key its name, and a pair of roseate spoon-bills working in the marl of the edge of the lagoon. They were beautiful with the sharp rose of their color against the gray marl and their delicate, quick, forward-running movements, and they had the dreadful, hunger-ridden impersonality of certain wading birds. He could not watch them long because he wanted to check in case the people they were looking for had left the boat in the mangroves and camped in the high ground to be clear of the mosquitoes.
He found nothing but the site of an old charcoal-burning and he came out onto the beach after the first squall hit and Ara had picked him up in the dinghy.
Ara loved running the outboard in the rain and a bad squall and he had told Thomas Hudson none of the searchers had found anything. Everybody was on board but Willie who had taken the furthest stretch of beach beyond the mangroves.
“And you?” Ara asked.
“Me, nothing.”
“This rain will cool off Willie. I’m going to get him when I put you on board. Where do you think they are, Tom?”
“At Guillermo. That’s where I’d be.”
“Me too. That’s what Willie thinks, too.”
“How was he?”
“He’s trying hard, Tom. You know Willie.”
“Yes,” said Thomas Hudson. They came alongside and he climbed aboard.
Thomas Hudson watched Ara pivot the dinghy on her stern and go off into the white squall. Then he called down for a towel and dried himself off on the stern.
Henry said, “Don’t you want a drink, Tom? You were really wet.”
“I’d like one.”
“Do you want straight rum?”
“That’s nice,” Thomas Hudson answered. He went below to get a sweatshirt and shorts and he saw that they were all cheerful.
“We all had a straight rum,” Henry said and brought him a glass half-full. “I don’t think that way if you dry off quickly anyone can catch cold. Do you?”
“Hi, Tom,” said Peters. “Have you joined our little group of health drinkers?”
“When did you wake up?” Thomas Hudson asked him.
“When I heard a gurgling noise.”
“I’ll make a gurgling noise some night and see if that wakes you up.”
“Don’t worry, Tom. Willie does that for me every night.”
Thomas Hudson decided not to drink the rum. Then, seeing them all having had a drink and being cheerful and happy on an uncheerful errand, he thought it would be pompous and priggish not to take it. He wanted it, too.