Sailmaker Read Online Free PDF

Gran’s packed tucker and her special homemade lemonade. It’s almost as good as Coke. The white plastic buckets we always use, rigs, cooler for the fish. Ice. Dev starts her up.
    â€˜Ready, mate?’ I like the way he does that – always checks with me like it matters. It’s my boat; I’m just not old enough to drive it by myself. In the summer holidays I got my boat licence – amazing how I ticked those questions right. Because it was about something I knew, I guess. Dev even took me to Port Adelaide for the practical test, but I can still only go ten knots by myself or sail a ten-footer. At least I can take the tinnie out.
    Dev pushes the throttle forward; the first exhilarating whoosh pushes me back on the seat, and the wind in my face makes me laugh. I glance behind at the froth we’ve left. It’d be great riding a bucking board in that wash. Dev always gives me a turn at driving the Sea Wolf . He does it now. And while I take the wheel (for practice, he says) he starts to bait his hooks with cockles. I rev her up and a sudden wave sends us off like a supersonic jet. We’d never go this fast if Gran were here, but Dev’s used to speed and he grins. When I’m behind the wheel, I’m totally focused – another surprise, Gran says. Driving the boat is sometimes like walking on a plank over a waterfall – keeping that balance between the speed and staying afloat. I slow down when we’re past the island, pull the throttle back into neutral and ease her into reverse.
    â€˜This might be a good spot,’ I call back. I’m using the echo sounder I won in the October fishing competition. I caught that winning snapper with a berley trail. But this sounder is a cool way to fish too – a kind of picture of the seabed comes onto the screen and it’s easier to find the best places to fish – like the rocky ledges where the fish hide. I throw the pick over.
    â€˜Sure thing, mate,’ is all Dev says. It’s like it’s my fishing trip and Dev’s come along for the ride. I start baiting my hooks. They’ve been sharpened especially for today. I’ve got worms as well as cockles and a heavier sinker than usual to pull the line down. I want a King George whiting for Gran. Soon I’ve dropped the lines over the side; I wait till they’ve run out and the sinkers hit the sand. I lean back, just sitting in the stillness, tasting the air. I like the way the Sea Wolf rises and falls; it’s gentle on days like today. Gran still says she can’t work out how someone with my energy can fish, but she’s glad about it all the same. I’m usually in a good mood if I’ve been out – it works better than a long sleep after a hard day every time.
    It’s times like these I tell Dev stuff. He’s told me a few things too. Stuff about himself; a few jokes. He told me about this kid who went fishing with a mouse baited to his hook. ‘Why did he do that?’ I asked. Sucked in, eh? ‘Wanted to catch a catfish, mate,’ says Dev. It was kind of funny at the time, especially since Dev told it without even smiling. Prescott liked it. So did Mei, or she smiled at least. Shawn didn’t, though – he’s got no sense of humour. Mei reckons it’s because of his dad. Mr Houser doesn’t like jokes much either. When I went in their shop to get the cockles yesterday, Shawn was stacking shelves, and he got something in the wrong place. Mr Houser tore strips off him, even while I was there. Dev’s not all over me like prickly heat but he’d never pick on me in front of other people.
    â€˜Do you know Vern Solomon from the island, Dev?’
    â€˜Met him once or twice.’
    â€˜He talks to his dog.’ Don’t know why I said that; must be plenty of things I could have said about Vern instead of that. Dev doesn’t take it up. ‘He mends sails. Mei and I went over yesterday.