The North Water Read Online Free PDF Page B

nankeen waistcoat, purple neckerchief, a cutaway coat of navy worsted. His hair is gray and sparse, his cheeks are red and venous, his eyes are rheumy. He has looked mortally sick for years, but he never misses a day at the office. The man is a whited sepulchre, Brownlee thinks, but by Christ will he talk. Words, words, words—un-fucking-ending, an unstoppable stream of verbiage. He will still be talking his arse off when they put him in the fucking ground.
    â€œWe killed them all, Arthur,” Baxter goes on. “It was tremendous while it lasted, and magnificently profitable too. We had twenty-five fucking good years. But the world turns, and this is a new chapter. Think of it like that. Not the end of one thing, but the beginning of something better. Besides, no one even wants the whale oil anymore—it’s all petroleum now, all coal gas, you know that.”
    â€œThe petroleum won’t last,” Brownlee says. “That’s just a fad. And the whales are still out there—you just need a captain with a nose for it, and a crew who can do what’s asked.”
    Baxter shakes his head and leans in conspiratorially. Brownlee smells pomade, mustard, sealing wax, and cloves.
    â€œDon’t fuck this up, Arthur,” he says. “Don’t misremember what we’re up to here. This is not a question of pride—not your pride, and not mine. And this is definitely not about the fucking fish.”
    Brownlee turns away without answering. He stares across at the dreary flatness of the Lincolnshire shore. He has never liked the land, he thinks. It is too certain, too solid, too sure of itself.
    â€œDid you get anyone to check the pumps?” Baxter asks him.
    â€œDrax,” he answers.
    â€œDrax is a good fellow. I didn’t cut any corners with the harpooners, did I? I trust you noticed that. I got you three of the best. Drax, Jones-the-whale, and, whatshisname, Otto. Any captain would be happy with those three.”
    â€œThey’ll do,” he admits, “they’ll all three do, but it don’t make up for Cavendish.”
    â€œCavendish is necessary, Arthur. Cavendish makes sense. We’ve talked about Cavendish many times already.”
    â€œI heard muttering from the crew.”
    â€œAbout Cavendish?”
    Brownlee nods.
    â€œIt’s a poor move to make him first mate. They all know him as a worthless cunt.”
    â€œCavendish is a great turd and a whoremonger, it’s true, but he will do whatever he’s told to. And when you get to the North Water the very last thing you want is some bastard showing initiative. Anyway, you have your second mate, young Master Black, to help if you get into any difficulties on the way. He has a decent head on him.”
    â€œWhat do you make of our Paddy surgeon?”
    â€œSumner?” Baxter shrugs, then chuckles. “Did you see what I got him for? Two pounds a month, and a shilling a ton. That’s a record, near enough. There’s something fishy there, of course there is, but I don’t believe we need concern ourselves about it. He doesn’t want any trouble from us, I’m sure of that.”
    â€œDo you believe the dead uncle?”
    â€œChrist, no. Do you?”
    â€œYou think he’s been cashiered then?”
    â€œMost probably, but even if he has been, so what? What do they cashier you for over there now? Cheating at bridge? Buggering the bugle boy? I’d say he’ll do for us.”
    â€œYou know he was at Delhi on the ridge. He saw Nicholson afore he died.”
    Baxter raises his eyebrows, nods, and looks impressed.
    â€œThat Nicholson was a bloody hero,” he says. “If we had a few more like Nicholson hanging the bastards, and less like that pusillanimous shit Canning giving out pardons left and right, the empire would be in safer hands.”
    Brownlee nods in agreement.
    â€œI heard he could slice a Pandy clean in two with one blow of his