It was the gray light of dawn, but the day was already beginning to be hot. The streets of Key West were just beginning to wake, with delivery trucks standing at resturuants off loading supplies for the new day of serving the tourists. Manolo Otega walked up the road to the commercial docks, where he had a job as a helper on a charter fishing boat. At age 15 he was off of school for the summer, and worked to help out his family. Since their arrival from Cuba many years ago, the Ortega family had strived to make a living in their new home. His mother worked at a hotel as a maid, and his father in a restaurant kitchen as a cook. Now, Mano would put in a long day helping the tourist fishermen on the Island Gal, 40 feet of gleaming white fiberglass sport fisherman owned and operated by one Captain Billy Toller.
At the dock, the four sports that had chartered the half day fishing trip were already to go, so with the coolers full of iced down beers, and bait buckets stocked, the Island Gal put out in the dawn sunlight. The rising sun made a field of gold out of the blue waters of the Florida straits, and only a slight breeze ruffled the waters. The sports were busy rigging the lines, and Mano watched them carefully, trying to see who was what personality. Captain Billy Toller was a cheap man, and paid Mano little, so the tips that Mano would receive were all important to the boy. Three of the sports were loud men, laughing and joking, and already hitting the coolers for the cold beer. That was alright for the boy, he'd found out that slightly drunk sports tended to tip better. But as he watched the forth man, he couldn't figure him out. It was obvious that he was not one of the others group. A quiet man, silver bearded, he kept more to himself on the boat, only acknowledging the other's jokes with a polite smile. After a while Mano noticed the man didn't drink the beer like the others, but sipped at some black coffee from a thermos out of a bag he'd carried on board.
After a while, they came to the flats where the fishing was to be for bonefish and snapper. By the end of an hour, Mano was trying to keep up with the demand for cut bait of mullet and squid. The sports got mildly drunk, and would yell at Mano as he franticly sawed at the rubbery squid with his knife. It was a cheap knife, from a large discount store, but it was all Mano could afford.
"Come on kid, we ain't got all day! There's fish to be caught!" yelled one of the sports.
"Maybe we aught to be using the kid for bait." Joked another.
Suddenly, one of the half drunk sports grabbed the kid and jokingly made to toss him over the side. Captain Billy Toller, more concerned with not offending his clients, no matter how drunk and obnoxious, just looked on.
"Hey!"
It wasn't shouted, but something in the quiet mans voice made the half drunk sports stop and look around.
"Leave the kid alone. He's doing a good job, but you're too drunk and self centered to notice." the quiet man said. The tone of his voice left no doubt that he was going to intercede if needed. The sport let go of Mano, and the kid went back to cutting bait.
"Hey kid."
Mano looked up, and saw the quiet man holding out a knife to him. It was unlike any knife young Mano had seen before in his life. It had a yellow handle, with one blade pulled out. The blade was a long clip point, but dull gray in color with some iridescent hues running across it. Another blade was still folded in the handle and looked to be the same size as the extended blade.
"Here, use this, it's sharper than what your sawing away with. Go on, take it." the quiet man said.
Mano took the offered knife and went to slice through some tough mullet. The thin dark gray blade cut right through like no other knife Mano had ever used. To the young boy, it seemed like magic.
"Gracias, I mean thank you sir." said Mano, remembering his mothers admonishment to always use English to others in their new home. "I've never used a knife this sharp."
The quiet man smiled.
"That's a Case trapper with carbon blades. Go ahead and use it for the rest of the trip."
Mano went to work with the yellow handle knife and for the rest of the morning had no trouble keeping the impatient sports in bait. Then it was the quiet mans turn. He'd been just sitting in the shade watching the fishing with his battered khaki bucket hat pulled down low over his eyes to block the sun, but when a silvery flash showed in the water he broke out some light tackle. He had Mano bait a lure and cast out. It wasn't long before the man had hooked a tarpon. He grinned with satisfaction, because this was what he'd come after. Tarpon on light tackle.
The fish was a good size one, maybe close to 180 to 200 pounds. Known as good fighters, the tarpon didn't disappoint. It became an elemental battle between man and fish. Each one looking for a weakness, each one fighting the other in a battle of will. The man didn't give the fish a chance. Once, when the tarpon doubled back the way they do, Captain Billy started to shout a warning, but the man knew. His rod tip came up fast, and he cranked on the reel to take in the sudden slack the fish had created. Then the tarpon lept clear of the water, thrashing silver in the tropical sun, and landing with a great splash. Finally the battle came to the end, with the fish alongside the boat. Captain Billy went to gaff the fish.
"No!"
The command was given sharply by the quiet man.
"That's a great fish, don't ya want him after all that?" Captain Billy asked.
"Because of all that, is why I don't want him. Give me those cutters." the man said pointing at the wire cutters with one hand while holding onto the rod with the other.
The man leaned over the side of the boat, and patted the fish on it's silvery flank.
"Thanks for the fight old boy." he said, then clipped the steel leader.
The fish, with freedom at hand, gave a slap of his tail on the water and disappeared into the depths. The sports all stood and watched in silence, not understanding the quiet man.
The half day trip over, the Island Gal tied up at her dock, the sports departed staggering up the pier, and the quiet man was lifting his bag over the rail of the boat.
"Mister, your knife, you almost forgot it." Mano called to the man.
Mano didn't fully understand what happened next for many years after. The man looked at him, and smiled.
"You go and keep it, kid. You need a good knife, and that one will serve you for years to come. Just wipe it down and oil it now and then. I can get another one easier than you, so it's yours. You earned it, and did a good job today. "
Mano was tongue tied, and the man just patted him on the shoulder and walked up the pier. Mano watched him go, wishing he'd turn around so he could at least wave him good bye. Then, almost as if sensing the boys eyes on him, the quiet man turned and looked back. Mano waved, and the man lifted one hand slowly to the brim of his bucket hat and gave Mano a salute, then he turned and was lost in the crowd.
Mano looked down at the knife in his hand, and wondered why a stranger would make him such a gift. He felt the solid weight of it in his hand, and Opened the other blade. It was as sharp as the blade he'd used all morning. That evening, Mano showed the knife to his father as he was getting ready to leave for the restaurant where he cooked.
"Aye, that's a great knife. That must have been a rich man to gift you such a knife. When you go by the church, you should light a candle for that man's good graces."
And Manolo Ortega did just that. Every year on the anniversary of the strangers gift, Mano lit a candle for the unknown stranger. And the Case trapper served Mano for many, many years.
At the dock, the four sports that had chartered the half day fishing trip were already to go, so with the coolers full of iced down beers, and bait buckets stocked, the Island Gal put out in the dawn sunlight. The rising sun made a field of gold out of the blue waters of the Florida straits, and only a slight breeze ruffled the waters. The sports were busy rigging the lines, and Mano watched them carefully, trying to see who was what personality. Captain Billy Toller was a cheap man, and paid Mano little, so the tips that Mano would receive were all important to the boy. Three of the sports were loud men, laughing and joking, and already hitting the coolers for the cold beer. That was alright for the boy, he'd found out that slightly drunk sports tended to tip better. But as he watched the forth man, he couldn't figure him out. It was obvious that he was not one of the others group. A quiet man, silver bearded, he kept more to himself on the boat, only acknowledging the other's jokes with a polite smile. After a while Mano noticed the man didn't drink the beer like the others, but sipped at some black coffee from a thermos out of a bag he'd carried on board.
After a while, they came to the flats where the fishing was to be for bonefish and snapper. By the end of an hour, Mano was trying to keep up with the demand for cut bait of mullet and squid. The sports got mildly drunk, and would yell at Mano as he franticly sawed at the rubbery squid with his knife. It was a cheap knife, from a large discount store, but it was all Mano could afford.
"Come on kid, we ain't got all day! There's fish to be caught!" yelled one of the sports.
"Maybe we aught to be using the kid for bait." Joked another.
Suddenly, one of the half drunk sports grabbed the kid and jokingly made to toss him over the side. Captain Billy Toller, more concerned with not offending his clients, no matter how drunk and obnoxious, just looked on.
"Hey!"
It wasn't shouted, but something in the quiet mans voice made the half drunk sports stop and look around.
"Leave the kid alone. He's doing a good job, but you're too drunk and self centered to notice." the quiet man said. The tone of his voice left no doubt that he was going to intercede if needed. The sport let go of Mano, and the kid went back to cutting bait.
"Hey kid."
Mano looked up, and saw the quiet man holding out a knife to him. It was unlike any knife young Mano had seen before in his life. It had a yellow handle, with one blade pulled out. The blade was a long clip point, but dull gray in color with some iridescent hues running across it. Another blade was still folded in the handle and looked to be the same size as the extended blade.
"Here, use this, it's sharper than what your sawing away with. Go on, take it." the quiet man said.
Mano took the offered knife and went to slice through some tough mullet. The thin dark gray blade cut right through like no other knife Mano had ever used. To the young boy, it seemed like magic.
"Gracias, I mean thank you sir." said Mano, remembering his mothers admonishment to always use English to others in their new home. "I've never used a knife this sharp."
The quiet man smiled.
"That's a Case trapper with carbon blades. Go ahead and use it for the rest of the trip."
Mano went to work with the yellow handle knife and for the rest of the morning had no trouble keeping the impatient sports in bait. Then it was the quiet mans turn. He'd been just sitting in the shade watching the fishing with his battered khaki bucket hat pulled down low over his eyes to block the sun, but when a silvery flash showed in the water he broke out some light tackle. He had Mano bait a lure and cast out. It wasn't long before the man had hooked a tarpon. He grinned with satisfaction, because this was what he'd come after. Tarpon on light tackle.
The fish was a good size one, maybe close to 180 to 200 pounds. Known as good fighters, the tarpon didn't disappoint. It became an elemental battle between man and fish. Each one looking for a weakness, each one fighting the other in a battle of will. The man didn't give the fish a chance. Once, when the tarpon doubled back the way they do, Captain Billy started to shout a warning, but the man knew. His rod tip came up fast, and he cranked on the reel to take in the sudden slack the fish had created. Then the tarpon lept clear of the water, thrashing silver in the tropical sun, and landing with a great splash. Finally the battle came to the end, with the fish alongside the boat. Captain Billy went to gaff the fish.
"No!"
The command was given sharply by the quiet man.
"That's a great fish, don't ya want him after all that?" Captain Billy asked.
"Because of all that, is why I don't want him. Give me those cutters." the man said pointing at the wire cutters with one hand while holding onto the rod with the other.
The man leaned over the side of the boat, and patted the fish on it's silvery flank.
"Thanks for the fight old boy." he said, then clipped the steel leader.
The fish, with freedom at hand, gave a slap of his tail on the water and disappeared into the depths. The sports all stood and watched in silence, not understanding the quiet man.
The half day trip over, the Island Gal tied up at her dock, the sports departed staggering up the pier, and the quiet man was lifting his bag over the rail of the boat.
"Mister, your knife, you almost forgot it." Mano called to the man.
Mano didn't fully understand what happened next for many years after. The man looked at him, and smiled.
"You go and keep it, kid. You need a good knife, and that one will serve you for years to come. Just wipe it down and oil it now and then. I can get another one easier than you, so it's yours. You earned it, and did a good job today. "
Mano was tongue tied, and the man just patted him on the shoulder and walked up the pier. Mano watched him go, wishing he'd turn around so he could at least wave him good bye. Then, almost as if sensing the boys eyes on him, the quiet man turned and looked back. Mano waved, and the man lifted one hand slowly to the brim of his bucket hat and gave Mano a salute, then he turned and was lost in the crowd.
Mano looked down at the knife in his hand, and wondered why a stranger would make him such a gift. He felt the solid weight of it in his hand, and Opened the other blade. It was as sharp as the blade he'd used all morning. That evening, Mano showed the knife to his father as he was getting ready to leave for the restaurant where he cooked.
"Aye, that's a great knife. That must have been a rich man to gift you such a knife. When you go by the church, you should light a candle for that man's good graces."
And Manolo Ortega did just that. Every year on the anniversary of the strangers gift, Mano lit a candle for the unknown stranger. And the Case trapper served Mano for many, many years.
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. First Class story Carl. Thanks.
