Fish Stocks Limited by Michael Summers - HTML preview

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Chapter 26 – The Shout – A Brief Discourse On The Will O' The Fish

“There, there, thar she blows!” came the shout from the topmast. Mungo used the full capacity of his barrel-chest in exhorting the presence of the fish.

Fishmael was up the companionway in a flash, eyes ablaze and breathing heavily. “Tell me now, be it the white fish?”

“Aye!” cried Mungo. “Thar she blows!”

“How far?”

“Half a kilometre by my reckoning, five points to larboard!”

“So. We have a good chance. Five points to larboard, choke that petrel!”

“Aye, aye!” shouted Jerry.

The boat shot over the mist, heading for the place where the spout had last been seen.

“You see her still, Mungo?”

“No, cap'n. She's sounded.”

“Blast and damnation! What was her heading as she dived?”

“She was far off - difficult to say, cap'n. I reckon if we carry on in this direction we're about on her course.”

“Good, then hold the course. Lay off the throttle a little, Jerry; we may need a turn of speed if she breaches again.”

“Aye, cap'n.”

Prow hunting the waves, questing for the next trough, climbing each peak like a mountaineer, the ship bore on after the fish. The captain's moods bobbed with the palpitations of the sea, until his heart beat in time with his ship, fast and hard, filling his face with purple blood like a leech's abdomen.

“Curses on ye all!” he shouted after an hour. “'Twas the fish's way of mocking us! She would never give herself away so easily by mistake – there was intent there, aye, intent. She would make a joke of us all, mates, make no mistake. Keep your eyes peeled, Mungo, and sing out if you see her again!”

Did the Infinity Fish see her pursuer? Did she know that this vessel was a blood vessel, mining a rich vein of hatred to fuel the fires of her captain? Just how much of that peculiar concept of intent can we assign to this creature? A brute creature follows only instinct, is canalised in its instincts. Is there any room in a fish for free will?

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