‘Bon,’ he glanced around once more, ‘I must be careful, because what happened to the rest of the crew, c’est horrible.’ He took a draught from his fresh bottle. Then he continued, ‘after the first week of fishing, there was a week or two where we did not catch anything. At the end of this time, the cabin boy, he died.’ He leaned close to me, and whispered, ‘the captain, he was going to bury him at sea, but someone, I think it was the cook, he said “oi, lets eat the bugger.” He was from England. At this, the captain, with some others, argued with the cook and his group.’ He downed half the bottle, and barely able to stay in his chair he pressed on, ‘there was a terrible fight, many on both sides died, but the cook did not. When it was all done, there were more survivors on the cook’s side. The captain was dead. So, the cook won. When we had eaten our fill of the dead, we elected the cook as captain. He selected who would be the next meal. But, I worked in the galley, so I was never picked. At the end, I kill the cook, and the next day, the wind, it started again. But I remember no more.’ Pierre stumbled off, muttering something about le pissoir. I waited patiently, there was only one thing left to ask.
When Pierre returned, I asked, ‘what happened to Sam, the young deckhand?’
‘Ah oui, La Puse, I liked him very much.’ Pierre licked his lips.
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