Deep Water by Emma Bamford

Author:Emma Bamford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery/Scout Press
Published: 2022-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

21

Pete steered Wayfinder’s dinghy beyond the northern tip of the island, not far from where Virginie had sat sketching the morning Vitor came across her. They had finally got round to the fishing. The sea was different in this area from the anchorage, where there wasn’t a whisper of breeze and the water was flat calm. Here, out of the lee, it was bumpy in the rougher waves, and the dinghy, laden down with the four of them, was so low that every now and then a little water came over the side, wetting their feet, bringing relief from the heat. As soon as they stopped, Stella slipped into the water. Two kicks away from the boat, two back toward, and then she was hauling herself back in again, showering everyone with droplets.

She pinched water out of her nose. “That’s better.”

Pete handed her a towel for her face. “Real water baby, this one.”

They turned their attention to the task ahead. On the floor of the dinghy the hand reel Jake had bought in Port Brown waited. It was a simple design in green plastic—a plain sheave-like ring about a hand’s span in diameter, already wound with wire and primed with a hook.

“We tried it on the passage over,” Jake said, picking it up. “Didn’t catch a bean. Not a bean, not a sausage, and certainly not a fish.”

Pete had brought a box of lures with him. He showed them the right kinds to use, the ones he said the fish would be most interested in, and Virginie and Jake took it in turns to handle the line, unspooling the long wire from the reel, letting it run behind the dinghy for a while as they drove about, and then winding it back in again, reaching for length after length between thumb and two fingers. It always felt there was more to pull in than she’d let out. Every time the hook came up it was empty.

“You can try adjusting your speed if they’re not going for it,” Pete said when Jake was taking a turn, twisting the tiller throttle a touch. “You’ll get a feel for what works.”

“How do you know where the best places are?” Virginie asked.

“Fish move around,” Stella replied, “so it’s not like you can just go to one spot every day and land the same number.”

Virginie checked behind them. Still nothing.

“Then why don’t we try somewhere else?” Jake asked. He nodded toward the far reef. “How about over there?”

“Best not,” Pete said.

“Why not? Is there nothing there?”

“There’s plenty.”

“Then let’s go!” He started to wind in, ready for the drive over, but Pete kept the tiller straight, the dinghy over the first section of reef. Jake snorted. “You honestly believe that superstitious stuff Roly spouts?”

Virginie shot him a look as he wound the line: Play nicely. She was frustrated, too, but there was no reason for him to be so obvious about it.

“Sure you don’t want to try spearfishing?” Pete asked him. “I mean, I rarely troll like this.

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