Migrations(25)

The men’s voices roar their excitement. This is a rare thing indeed.

“Let’s move!” Ennis booms from his balcony, and I twist my head to see the flash of his smile.

Mal and Dae hurry to crank two levers and I realize there is a smaller skiff being lowered into the sea. Anik swings over the railing and lands gracefully in the boat, his motions those of a dancer. He descends onto the sea and disconnects the cables. I watch him maneuver the boat out into the water, and I see that there is a thick ream of net being pulled along behind him. Léa stands at the crank, making sure the net unrolls without snagging or tangling, while Anik drags it far out into the darkness, its top edge buoyed up by yellow corks I know so well, the bottom edge weighed down by the lead line. Anik pulls the net in an enormous circle around the school of fish.

“What happens now?” I ask.

Mal, who’s beside me, points to the net. “When Nik’s done and Skipper gives the go-ahead, we’ll sync those weights together—like pursing ’em—to stop the fish swimming out the bottom. Then the block’ll lift the net up onto the deck. Get ready, Franny-girl. You thought it was tough before? This is when the work really starts. We’re gonna have fish to pack.”

Anik makes the circle and joins the ends. I’m amazed at how swiftly he’s done it, maneuvering that tiny skiff through the water like he was born to it. A kilometer and a half of netting. Malachai said all skiff men are outlaws; they have to be to set out on their own like they do. I can see what he means now, watching the solitary passage of that small boat.

The cables pull taut.

“Pursing,” Ennis calls.

We all watch as the cables begin to pull the weights. I can’t see what’s happening underwater, but the corks jerk and twist as though the net below is moving. Silver scales grow frantic, cresting the surface and churning in panic. There is something monstrous about it, as though a mighty sea beast has been caught and dragged out of the depths.

The birds rear up and away, their feast interrupted.

I’m filled with sudden anxiety.

The crank stops. “Ready to lift!” Léa calls.

Mal and Dae haul Anik and his skiff back up onto the deck, then all three hurry to pull on plastic overalls and big rubber gloves. They signal their readiness and wait on deck for the net.

Ennis is controlling the power block, and yells down for everyone to stand by before the crane gives a jerk, slowly lifting the heavy net from the ocean. Water gushes out with a roar and I see the fish take shape—hundreds, maybe thousands—those on top flapping helplessly as they’re lifted out. I wasn’t expecting the volume, even after having seen the size of the net.

I don’t want to watch this. I can’t look away. I have to stop it somehow. Of course I can’t stop it.

Basil gives a whoop of victory and I could throw up. Am I really going to stand here and watch as these creatures are slaughtered? How are they different from the birds, whose lives I might very well give my own to protect?

My eyes alight on something inside the net, a different texture from the rest. I frown and lean closer. It’s hard to see through the darkness, but it’s not a fish, I’m sure of it.

“What’s that?”

Mal and Dae follow my pointed finger and frown.

“Light!” Dae yells.

Samuel, who is up with Ennis, swings the spotlight around to where Dae’s pointing, and we all see it, clear as day. A huge sea turtle, caught in the net.

“Stop!” Dae and Mal both yell at once. “Skip!”

Ennis hears them and stops the crane. The net swings above the ocean, its magnificent weight swaying the boat. Ennis thunders down from the balcony and runs to the railing. “Loosen the purse!” he orders Basil.

“What? Boss, that’s a big catch!”

“Loosen it.”

Shock makes me grip the railing so hard one of my hands cramps. I work it quickly with the other while watching the poor creature, its flippers moving only very slightly beneath the suffocating weight of fish. Half of it protrudes out of the net and I’m frightened it will be too entangled to get free again.

The purse line begins to loosen, opening the gap at the bottom to let the fish flood out. They slap back into the water, thousands of them at once, creating a swell that rocks the boat. Many get caught in the net, wriggling uselessly. And along with them is the turtle, unable to work its way free.

“Bring it in, Sam!” Ennis calls. “Gently!”

The giant claw is swung slowly around and then lowered onto the deck. The net pools around the turtle and everyone rushes to help until Ennis roars at us to stop.

He picks his way to where the turtle is buried in reams of netting, and he lifts the spools away until the creature is revealed. My heart is in my mouth as I watch Ennis sink to its side and ever so carefully untangle the turtle’s limbs and head. She snaps at him, but he is so gentle, so wary of damaging her. I see his hand rest once on her enormous shell, stroking tenderly.

“What are you doing so far north, my girl?” he asks softly.

Her hooked mouth opens and closes, her head lifting as much as she can. Once Ennis has her untangled we drag the netting away, clearing a path to the railing. She’s a big thing, and it takes Ennis, Basil, Mal, and Dae to lift her.

I laugh in relief as she goes overboard, diving into the water with a huge splash. With the back of my hand I dash the tears from my cheeks and watch her disappear into the depths. I imagine going with her, down into the dark.