172 ALBACORA 



"This list here," Jo said, waving the chart. "March the 

 first, 198; March the second, 199; March the third, 

 198 . . . What are these, striped marlin?" 



"They aren't marlin," I said, laughing. 



"Never mind," Lou said. "Come on, Jo. There are 

 some other things I want to show you." 



"Wait a minute," Jo said. "What kind of fish are 

 they?" 



"They aren't any kind of fish, Jo," I said. "That's 

 Lou's weight chart." 



After three months of planning Lou had decided ex- 

 actly what he wanted in the Explorer. We went over to 

 the Wheeler Shipyards in Brooklyn. "This fellow Gene 

 Wheeler knows how to build a boat," Lou told me, "but 

 we're really going to try him out and see." The sheafs 

 of paper on which all Lou's plans had been drawn were 

 rolled up in the car. When we reached the shipyard and 

 went into Wheeler's office, Lou unrolled them all, the 

 rough sketches, the detailed drawings — everything — 

 and spread them on a large round table. Wheeler leafed 

 through them carefully. After a while, he whistled be- 

 tween his teeth. ''Queen Mary, huh?" he said. 



"It's got to be the way I've put it down on paper," 

 Lou said. "We have to satisfy scientists and fishermen 

 and the sea." 



"But the extras," Wheeler said. "There must be 200 

 extra items." 



