Icicles hanging off the sides of the oyster boat was not a good sign. Neither was the freezing wind that threatened to take Horace’s nose off. Plus, the bay was so choppy, it looked like one huge whitecap. It was going to be a long day under these conditions. He had already gassed up and finished off two cups of hot coffee. The coffee warmed him up some and two sets of long-johns helped to protect him from the hard, biting wind. He sighed and tried to start the motor. It sputtered, caught, then sputtered some more, and finally stopped. He fussed and tried to start it again. No luck. “Check them plugs - they might be froze.” suggested Jimbo, whose oyster boat was anchored next to Horace’s.
“Looks like we’re in for a bumpy ride out there today,” he added.
“I can’t feel my toes anymore,” complained Horace as he checked the plugs on his motor.
“Here - try some of this.” Jimbo offered as he held out a coffee thermos.
“I’ve already had two cups. Any more will make me jittery,” Horace replied.
“This is a special blend and guaranteed to warm you up.” Jimbo went on.
Horace took a swallow and went to choking. “What you got in here - kerosene?” he asked.
“That there is brandy and coffee,” laughed Jimbo.
And sure enough, after a couple more swallows, Horace didn’t feel nearly as chilled as he had before. “Why don’t we double up today? I’ll tong and you cull. That way we’ll get in sooner. Tomorrow we’ll take a good look at your motor and get it going.” Jimbo suggested.
“Didn’t feel like messing with it today, anyway,” Horace agreed.
“I think we ought to run back to the store and get us some hot biscuits to take along. Nothing like a hot biscuit to keep your blood from freezing,” Jimbo said.
This seemed like a good idea to Horace, who had forgotten to eat breakfast. So he readily concurred and they walked back up to the convenience store, which had a hot bar full of biscuits, gravy, and ham. Soon, they were muching on biscuits and passing the ‘coffee’ back and forth. “This sure takes the chill out of your bones.” Horace admitted with a smile.
Jimbo cranked up the motor and they took off across the bay, frigid salt spray raining down on them from turbulent waters. It wasn’t long before Horace began to feel a little ill. “Hang on - we’re almost to our favorite tonging spot,” encouraged Jimbo as Horace gripped the side of the boat for dear life.
But when they got there, they discovered that neither one had remembered to put the tongs in the boat. “What we gone do now?” wailed Horace miserably.
“Let’s run up there to that little island. We can probably hog some.” Jimbo put in brightly.
So they pulled up to the island and climbed out into the surrounding muck. They waded out as far as they could and began picking up oysters. But after a while, they realized they were soaking wet, shivering, and just not getting enough oysters to make it worth their while.
“We better give up on this, Jimbo. I ain’t wanting to die of pneumonia any time soon,” grumbled Horace. Jimbo reluctantly admitted that he was right and so they headed out. By now the wind was picking up even more and a rumble of thunder rolled in above them.
Before they got back, they had had a few more sips of ‘coffee’ and were talking about picking up the tongs and going back out. It was an even rougher ride than before and they could see other boats heading to shore, with heaping piles of oysters. “Iffen you hadn’t forgot them tongs, we coulda had us a payday, too.” Horace complained.
“I thought you had got the tongs while I was starting the motor,” Jimbo replied.
When they finally pulled into shore, Horace began to fret. “My wife ain’t gonna be happy I didn’t make us no money,” he sighed.
Jimbo just chuckled at him.
”Your wife don’t give you a hard time when you come in empty handed?” asked Horace.
“She’s from Cleveland. She don’t know nothing about no oystering,” he answered mischievously.
“What you gone tell her?” Horace pressed.
“I’ll just tell her” laughed Jimbo, “that the derned things weren’t biting!”
