From the wheelhouse of their Paddleboat Maddy, Captain Percival Stanford and his daughter Kristy had the perfect view of Rivers Landings Main Street. It was a hive of activity; tourists ambled along, stopping to browse at various stalls, or peruse through historical shops. Others sat at quaint alfresco Cafés sipping cool drinks as they relaxed in the late afternoon sun. Captain sent Kristy a wink, then eased the engines throttle back. Large paddlewheels churned through the water, pushing Maddy slowly away from the wharf. Kristy pulled the whistle cord and a high pitched toot pierced the sky. Behind them, on the upper level sundeck, passengers let go a resounding cheer… and they were on their way.
Further along, the riverbank was alive with holidaymakers; all set up with tents and caravans; well prepared for a lengthy stay, to enjoy the tranquility over the Christmas break. Mothers splashed about in the water with their children, or hovered over BBQ’s that simmered along; waiting in the hope of a fisherman’s catch. One man, fishing off a fallen tree partly submerged in the water pulled hard on his line. A large Murray Cod flapped through the air to meet its inevitable fate, of being lightly seasoned then grilled on a hot BBQ plate.
“Looks like it’ll be Cod on hot coals for dinner,” Kristy laughed to her father, then joined the passengers to applaud the fisherman’s catch.
As Captain navigated Maddy around a sweeping bend, Rivers Landing and the holidaymakers disappeared from sight.
Kristy pressed a button on the control panel and a gradual tempo of lively music drifted through the PA system. She left the wheelhouse and raced toward the aft; her light blue summer dress, and tangled auburn hair, flickered in the warm breeze as she bopped her way past the passengers. She sprang down the centre stairs onto the second decks railed terrace, spun toward the bow and darted into the hallway; she skipped past the entertainers VIP suite and first class passenger cabins. Saw Captains gangly first mate Norman, dressed in his white sailor’s uniform striding toward her and sent him a wink, “How spoofy do you look,”
“What can I say? I’m a babe magnet,”
They both laughed and continued on their prospective journeys.
Norman marching toward the wheelhouse. Kristy dancing toward the dining room.
When she reached the end of the hallway, Kristy stopped before a frosted glass door with carved redwood frames. Above the entrance, a sign with a caricature of a large Murray Cod read. ‘Cod on Hot Coals Restaurant,’
She opened the door and stepped in. The lively music faded, replaced by a soothing background melody. She stood for a moment humming the tune whilst taking in the beautifully renovated interior. The floor, covered in a deep maroon carpet tinged with gold, had a stylish look about it. Tables and chairs set up for the evening meal, were scattered strategically about.
To the left of the entrance was a stage overlooking a walnut stained dance floor. At the centre front was a microphone on a boom stand; either side were large amps. In the stages left corner, a metre back from the edge, was an all in one DJ’s keyboard, and backing track music system. To the right of the entrance, an open plan area with comfortable lounge chairs and low tables adjoined a sliding door, which opened onto a balcony. Floor to ceiling tinted windows were either side of the dining room. Toward the bow, in the right corner was a bar; to the left, past viewing windows were a buffet table and Bain Maria in front of the Galley. She walked toward the viewing windows where the barman and kitchen hand she’d employed the previous week stood gazing at the river ahead.
“Nice view boys,” Kristy called. Startled by her unexpected arrival, they spun, then smiled when they saw her.
Jordie, the taller of the two, stood 183 cm. He had strong chiseled features and pleasant smile; ‘handsome in a rugged sort of way,’ Kristy thought. His dark fringe dropped across his forehead like a rolling wave, giving him a 1960’s rock n roller appearance. He looked sharp in his barman’s uniform; black trousers, red waiters jacket, white shirt and bow tie. The shorter Mitch, stood 165 cm; Kristy’s height. He had a cheerful oval shaped face and ginger frizzy hair that quivered above his head, looking as if it were permanently electrified. He was dressed in kitchen hand whites. Kristy was glad that she had given them the jobs. For the past week since they started they had been efficient, eager and full of life. If it hadn’t been for their help with organizing the dining room and Galley supplies she would have been stressed out to the max. Her problem was, Julio the Spanish Chef she had hired, should have started a week before the trip began, but emailed he’d be running late. He finally arrived the previous night smelling suspiciously of alcohol, and once shown to his cabin locked himself in. Frequent banging on his door that morning finally woke him, and he assured her that he would be in the Galley by the afternoon. When Kristy reached the boys, she asked if the new Chef had arrived; both shook their head, saying that hadn’t seen him. Pissed off with Julio’s obvious disregard for punctuality, she about to go and hunt him up when the door slammed open. Julio charged through in a flurry.
“You’re late!” Kristy snapped, “Its five o’clock and we have forty passengers to cater for by eight,”
Julio saw the look of scorn on Kristy’s face. He stopped abruptly, causing his overweight body to wobble beneath his Chefs Uniform; his double chin rolled in time with the soothing background melody. However, years of being a Master Chef had made him immune to reprimands. He dismissed her scowl with a wave of the hand, strode across the dining room, and stopped before her. Then in a voice which carried a hint of broken Spanish and good dose of smugness stated, “No problema señorita Kristy… I ‘ave arrived,”
The look on Kristy’s face suggested she was having none of his posturing; so to avoid further confrontation, Julio quickly turned his attention to Jordie & Mitch, “and these are my asistentes,”
Because of the boys presences, and her professional etiquette, Kristy held back giving him an earful. She put on a tense smile and grudgingly introduced him.
After the introductions, Julio uttered a pompous, “Gracias,” then addressed Jordie, “And you are my Cockatail barman,”
Jordie nodded and smiled.
“Excelente', I am experto in vino and cockatails. Certain foods requires zee right beverage to complimentió it. I’m sure you will be outstanding,” he turned his head slightly and looked down at Mitch, “that means liddle Mitchio must be my Chef de partíe,”
Mitch, thinking that sounded impressive sent him a broad grin followed by an eager, “Yes sir,”
Julio liking his enthusiasm added, “You can also be zee drinks el Garzón when not assisting me,” he turned toward Kristy, gave her a curt bow, then placed his arm over Mitch’s shoulders and guided him toward the Galley, “tonight, Mitchio we will treat our guests’ to an arrangement of cold meats and salads. It will be an easy and light meal...”