“Well, why don’t you?”
“That’s what you’re on this boat for, to take care of them things like that. You’re a deckhand and this is deck work. This isn’t my job.”
“You’re the one that’s complaining. It don’t make no difference to me if your engine gets wet.”
Duval tossed his cigarette overboard. “Take care of that.” He pointed to the ventilator.
Bervick slowly pushed the ventilator over the opening it was to cover. Then he picked up the hammer and started to nail the base of the ventilator into the deck.
“How’s it coming?” asked a voice. Bervick looked up and recognized Hodges. He was standing beside the Chief.
“Don’t know yet. Trying to nail this thing down.” He was conscious that his knees were aching from the cold damp deck. He stood up.
“What’s the matter now?” asked Duval.
“Knees ache.”
“You got rheumatism, maybe?” asked Hodges with interest.