Living Silver 



began to show them how to do it, some fish being thrown in one 

 basket, some in another. 'Come on, lads. Have I got to finish the 

 whole lot myself? Go on there, George and Johnny, and have a 

 shot at gutting these wee haddocks.' But they didn't have their 

 knives, and had to go to the fo'c'sle to collect them. 



Back on deck, Jan wished he could find another excuse for not 

 trying to gut the black and white fish in the basket before him. 

 They were piled high, by this time, and three men were in the 

 pound throwing fish in all directions and missing baskets in most. 

 Finch came over to them: 'They look pretty dirty. What about 

 trying to wash them ?' And, indeed their white bellies were float- 

 ing with just enough of a liquid brown excrement to make Jan re- 

 member that he was on a ship, that the ship was pitching and rol- 

 ling, and that his stomach wouldn't stay still. A hose of salt water, 

 fed by the donkey pump, swirled up to the top and away through 

 the wicker work of the basket and, miraculously, the topmost fish 

 glistened with miniature rainbows. 'Have a go yourselves first. 

 Then I'll show you how to do it. ' 



Very gingerly, Jan and his companion each lifted a fish. Jan's 

 gave a kick of its tail and flopped back in the basket. He tried an- 

 other one, somewhat smaller, and, though it too struggled in his 

 grip, he managed to hold it firm about the head. The soft white 

 belly gave way beneath his knife. The knife slipped and he felt it 

 jabbing his left hand. He released the fish and it slid to the deck. 

 By the time he had heard the laughter of Finch, Jan was kneeling 

 on the deck, holding the tiny haddock down with the ferocity of 

 a wrestler and hacking away at its small white belly as industri- 

 ously as if he were carving an elephant. 



*Aye, aye. Shall I get you a hatchet, or a hacksaw, mebbe? It's 

 a mincing machine you'll want for what you're doing.' 



And Finch came over the slope of the deck to pick up a fish 

 from the basket. His hand was easy on the fore part of its back, a 

 broad grip that did not take count of the movement of its tail. 

 Slowly, to show them, accentuating the twitch of every tendon, 

 he drew back the gill covers with the thumb of his left hand : and 



44 



