ALBACORA 39 



until they have cooked — but when I finish the process 

 the results are usually worth the effort. 



"Lunch," I shouted, cheerily, after I had set the five 

 steaks out on the table in the dinette. Then I got ready 

 to duck. 



"Lunch," I shouted again. "Come and get it, every- 

 body." No one seemed to have heard. 



"Steaks," I bellowed. "Steaks on the table." Then I 

 climbed up to the deck. Lou was fighting another marlin. 

 Doty was taking pictures. Everyone was busy. Only two 

 hours, and two fish later, did we finally sit down to 

 eat the steaks. By that time they were cold and dry. 

 Probably they would have been better raw. For once, 

 no one complained about the food and not merely be- 

 cause I was waiting to strangle the first man who said, 

 "Kinda dry, aren't they?" On the sort of fishing day 

 everyone was enjoying, it would have been graceless to 

 complain even about hard tack and salty water. This 

 must have been the finest single fishing session any ex- 

 pedition anywhere ever had. Five striped marlin lay in 

 the cockpit of our boat. Not one of them weighed less 

 than 285 pounds and there were at least two world rec- 

 ords in our haul. 



At four o'clock the sun was lowering, and twelve 

 hours after we had put out to sea, we turned and headed 

 home. Lou and I slipped below decks. I was numb and 

 fatigued from excitement. "I can't wait, Lou," I said. 

 "I just can't wait to get to weigh them in." 



