“This is that new canned ration, isn’t it?”
“Yes. We have this when were traveling. It’s usually too rough to have anything else fixed.”
“I see.” The Major took some. The Chaplain decided that he was not hungry at all.
“You had better have some crackers,” Evans remarked. The Chaplain refused with a weary smile.
There was little conversation. Bervick and the Chief disagreed on the expected time of arrival. For a moment Evans was afraid they would begin an involved argument. Luckily they had enough sense not to. Evans wondered why people could never get along with each other. Of course living in too close quarters for a long time had a lot to do with it. On these boats people saw too much of one another.
After lunch Evans went back to the wheelhouse. Silently he relieved Martin who went below. There was another snow flurry ahead. It looked as if the rest of the trip would be by the clock. Evans watched the water and waited for the snow to come.
At noon Martin returned.
“Where are we?” he asked.
Evans studied the pale snow-blurred coast. “Almost abeam Crown rock. We’ll be in the Big Harbor in about two hours. Don’t get any closer to shore than we are and wake me up when you think you’re near the nets.”
“O.K.” Martin checked the compass and the logbook and then he stood by the window and looked out. Evans went into his cabin and stretched out on his bunk. The rocking of the boat he found soothing. He slept.