Seaworthy by Linda Greenlaw

And if Machado outfoxed me, it would cost some time. Lost time would equate to Scotty’s getting more of a head start on his trip. I couldn’t have that.
    Archie and Hiltz seemed content to hang around the galley with me. We listened to Timmy screaming over the generator and were amused that there was never any response from the mechanic. “Maybe he’s using sign language,” Arch suggested. Hiltz nodded and flipped a double bird. This seemed very funny at the time. We laughed hysterically until tears formed. Looking back, it doesn’t seem a bit humorous. But I’m sure that we were stressed to the point of silliness and needed some comic relief. And Machado, who was our usual supply of jokes, had left us to our own devices. When the weight of anticipation got to be too much for me and my belly ached from laughing, I reluctantly decided to descend to the engine room to check on progress and hear the prognosis.
    Before I made it halfway down the stairs, I met Timmy coming up. Glad to put distance between me and the noise again, I hurried back to the galley with Timmy close on the heels of my rubber boots. “How’s it looking?” I asked.
    â€œThe mechanic is great,” Tim said as he wiped sweat from his forehead with a paper towel. “So far he’s found two bent push rods that appear to have been caused by the hasty rebuild. Every bolt securing rocker arms had backed out to finger tight. It’s a wonder we didn’t trash the entire engine.”
    â€œSo we didn’t trash the entire engine?” I asked nervously.
    â€œNo. He’s still checking, measuring, tightening—but I think we’ll be fine. He brought rods, and so far he hasn’t found anything that will keep us from getting back out tomorrow. Or is it today now? It’s a good thing we didn’t run the engine any more than we did. It could have been a lot more serious.” This was the best news!
    Archie clearly understood diesel engines as well as Tim did. They theorized on a few points that were slightly beyond my mechanical-engineering acumen. Basically they assumed, based on what had happened, that the mechanic who did the recent work may not have retorqued the bolts after the engine had been put through the usual paces following work that required certain tension strengths to be put on threaded fasteners that hold various engine parts together properly. Once a newly rebuilt engine is brought up to temperature, it’s vital to check and retighten as necessary due to the effect of heat on steel. “It’s an expanding and shrinking thing,” explained Arch.
    I was greatly relieved to understand that we would be throwing the lines off the dock at first light. We had certainly lucked out this time. Tim went back to assist the mechanic, while Arch, Dave, and I remained in the galley extolling our good fortune, our great mechanic, and our hardworking shipmate. We wouldn’t be far behind Scotty if we could indeed get under way in the next few hours. In fact, with Scotty going to Newfoundland to pick up two crew members, we could actually beat him to the grounds. I had always done what I could to have any perceivable advantage over my fellow captains, and getting first hooks in a certain piece of water that might be more productive than its surroundings would be huge. The North Atlantic Ocean is vast, and there are hundreds of square miles where swordfish can be caught. But there are known hot spots, and I now had a shot at one of them. The ability to get the first set under my belt before Scotty arrived on the scene was within reach, and the prospect of gaining an edge excited me.
    I didn’t voice any of this to Arch and Hiltzie, as doing so might put me in less than a good light. The more I considered my situation, the better I felt. I’m not proud of these feelings, but there they are. Scotty had just sacrificed this same advantage I sought by doing me a favor.