“It sure is! How much do you reckon he weighs?” asked a man who overheard the Captain’s remark.
“Looks like half a ton to me—but there’s no tellin’ without scales handy,” returned the Captain.
“Hoh! We weighed him all right, Cap—by the scales on his back!” haw-hawed the mate of the schooner.
The joke was an old one with Maine fishermen and the mate resorted to it without thinking, so the Captain caught him up instantly.
“Naw, yuh didn’t nuther! Cuz he hain’t got no scales—see!”
The laugh that broke simultaneously from the crew was thoroughly enjoyed by every one, including the mate, for the mola had a very tough hide but was scaleless. Its apology for a tail was a frill of scallops opposite the beak-end, while the most prominent features were the dorsal and ventral fins, each one about a foot and a half in length.
“Whad’ye say ye th’ot he weighed, Cap?” asked the mate of Captain Ed as soon as the laugh died down.
“Nigh on half a ton, thinks I,” responded the Captain.
That started a new argument among the local fishermen “lying” in those parts about the weight of the fish. During the discussion, Fred managed to shove his boat close to the launch from Sunset Island. Then he hailed Captain Ed.
“Let’s tow the sunfish over home and give father and mother a chance to look at the queer thing.”