If ya have a good name for this let me know.
“So Sid ‘s fucked off and left me with this pile of dung.”
Krofune? Dung? He always anglicized Sadao to Sid.
Looks fine to me I said. A bit weathered perhaps but it must be in fine shape.
“She. A sailboat, no, all vessels on the water are she’s, not it’s, for fuck sakes. Jesus H Christ. What the fuck have I gotton myself into” he proffered to no one, not to me, to the gulls perhaps. They cawed in comical response!
He kind of looked at me with a grinning disdain. This was not going well. I felt intimidated by him to some degree.
“Sorry, she. She doesn’t look too bad, I mean to me”
Nigel grunted, took a couple more long slugs, crushed the can and grabbed another.
“So John. What do you expect here? From me? Why are you here anyway?”
What could I say. “Pat and Sadao asked me to come and help out. Sail to Japan. Help you in doing it. I jumped at the chance. Great opportunity I thought. Looking forward to it.
Saying nothing Nigel looked at me with contempt. What is his problem I thought to myself?
Nigel was about 33 years old. A professional sailor as he claims to be. Hired by Sadao to help him sail and deliver Krofuni to Japan. He and Sadao met each other in and around the maritime bazaars and marinas of Vancouver Harbour. My sister Pat did not take too well to Nigel and I think the feelings were mutual. Nevertheless Nigel offered to help Sadao fulfill his dream and for a modest sum would help him in his quest. Off they went. Sadao had to give up on his dream but had asked Nigel to carry on. He agreed. Adventure I guess. And that’s where I came in. Crew to Nigel’s skipper.