6
AFTER THE LAST meeting he’d had with Jonas, Leifur was getting used to the idea of having a partnership with Iceland Adventures.
Being his own boss for so long meant he was a bit of a control freak.
Even if his mother didn’t tell him that all the time, he was self-aware enough to know, so he’d been careful not to be too dictatorial about how the boat trips were going to look.
Besides, he had to bow to the greater knowledge Jonas had of the tourist industry in general.
Fishing had nothing to do with this, and that was the only expertise Leifur had.
‘I love the idea of a sunset tour,’ said Jonas. ‘We could vary the times of that throughout the year so we always hit the right time for the sunset. Is it safe to be out in the boat after dark?’
Leifur had to remember that Jonas wasn’t a fisherman, so this wasn’t a stupid question. ‘We are out day and night. We’re not navigating using the daylight.’
‘Ah, good point. Although we’ll have to make sure the sunset is at the end of the trip, otherwise no one will see anything.’
‘And the rest of the timings can be planned now depending on how much daylight we have. In the winter, we might only manage the sunset tour because the days are so short. But coming into the summer, we could have three tours a day.’ Leifur knew he was signing up for some long hours, but if that’s what it took to get his life back on track, he was willing to.
It still didn’t sit well with him that he had to borrow money from Jonas to finance the changes to Brimfaxi .
He needed to pay that back as soon as possible for his own peace of mind before he could think about taking his foot off the pedal.
‘Let’s decide on timings for the summer say to the end of August, so we can put them up on the website. Then we’ll see how things are going then. Does that sound okay?’
He nodded. ‘Sure.’
‘And which day do you think we ought to choose as a down day? It makes sense to choose a day when it’s likely to be quieter. Do we have any idea of that from the research?’
‘Obviously, the weekdays are quieter. Perhaps Monday makes sense after a busy weekend?’
‘That’s fine with me,’ said Jonas.
They carried on working until they had a timetable ready to put on the website.
‘I think I might have found someone to help you out on the boat, at least in the short-term,’ said Jonas. ‘She’s a marine biologist in between jobs, so we might not have her for long but I think she’ll be valuable in helping us with the set-up.’
Leifur felt his blood pressure rising. ‘I thought we just needed someone to look after the guests?’
‘Well, yes. She knows that would be part of the job. I think her knowledge of whales could be a huge selling point though.’
I know about whales, Leifur wanted to say. But he knew he’d come across as unhelpful and petty. It wasn’t his place to tell Jonas how to run a tour. If he wanted to waste money on a marine biologist, that was up to him .
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Does she have experience of working on boats?’
‘I think so. I can check.’ Jonas was looking puzzled.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said with difficulty, realising he was being defensive. ‘It’s hard for me to let go.’
‘I understand. And I’m sorry if I’m making the wrong assumptions. I thought we’d agreed you’d need help and even if you were the world expert on whales, you’ll be in the wheelhouse most of the time,’ Jonas said reasonably.
When he got home, Leifur grabbed a beer and the tarpaulin and headed down to the water. He couldn’t afford to mess this up with Jonas. Once he’d decided to leave fishing behind, he thought the worst part was behind him. He now realised he still needed to learn to let go.
It was windy, and he sat watching the clouds scud across the sky, wishing he was out on Brimfaxi .
She was almost finished. In just another ten days she’d be ready to sail again.
Maybe then he’d have more perspective. Once he was back on board, what did it matter whether he was catching fish or finding whales?
He’d be on the sea again, where he belonged. That was the most important thing.
Scanning the horizon as he tipped his beer bottle to take a sip, something caught his eye coming around the headland from the direction of Reykjavik.
It looked as if it were the same woman he’d seen a week ago.
Where was she going? He stood up and waved, but she hadn’t seen him.
He carried on waving, all the time hoping none of his neighbours were watching because he must look like a lunatic.
Finally, after what seemed like minutes but was more likely seconds, she turned her head and noticed him.
He could see her laugh, her head thrown back, although the wind was carrying any sound she made away from him.
She waved back. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood watching her, a big grin on his face.
Then she started throwing her arm away, gesturing something.
She was shouting too, but he couldn’t hear her.
Was she telling him to head around the end of the bay?
He pointed to his left, making the gesture bigger, more like hers.
She took her hand off the tiller briefly and gave him a double thumbs up.
Putting a nearby rock on top of his tarpaulin to keep it from blowing away, he set off, beer in hand, to the far end of the bay.
His heart was racing. What was he doing?
What was he going to say? He looked to his right and saw that he was keeping pace with the little boat, and the woman was looking at him.
He stopped walking. This was ridiculous.
He was going to go around the headland, and then what?
She would bring the boat closer to the shore and…
He couldn’t imagine what might happen after that. But she was the one who had started it, so let her be the one who had to worry about what to say first.
She was out of sight now, so he picked up his pace again and carried on.
Maybe she would have thought better of it and carried on through the fjord, to wherever she was heading.
He climbed the headland at the end of the bay, and when he got to the top, where he could see around the edge, he saw she had brought the boat into the shallow water between two rocky outcrops.
She was standing in the boat, hands on her hips, presumably waiting for him.
As he made his way down to the shore, every time he looked up, she was watching him. She was probably around his age, wearing a knitted hat, which hid her hair. Her cheeks were rosy from the wind, and her blue eyes were bright and smiling.
‘ Hae !’ she called as he clambered across the rocks to reach her.
‘ Hae !’ This was so weird.
‘You live in the bay back there?’
‘Yes. ’
‘It’s a beautiful spot. I was wondering whether you ever see any whales in the fjord?’
Ah. Not so weird after all.
‘Not very often. We have the odd seal and sometimes porpoises, but I don’t remember seeing a whale. Unless they appear when I am not looking.’
She laughed. ‘I’ve only taken this boat out twice, and both times you’ve been there.’
‘That’s just a coincidence,’ he said, beginning to enjoy the back and forth.
‘So you’re not sitting out here twenty-four seven watching the sea?’
‘I wish I could be, but no. Where are you heading?’ It crossed his mind not to ask, but he wanted to prolong the conversation.
‘Nowhere in particular.’ She shrugged. ‘I just miss the sea and thought I’d see what kind of wildlife is around.’
‘You miss the sea?’
‘I used to live in Troms?, and I spent quite a lot of time on boats. I know Reykjavik is by the sea, but I don’t feel connected to it here in the same way. That probably makes no sense.’ She shook her head as if she’d said too much.
‘No, I understand completely,’ Leifur said, wanting to reassure her. Because he really did understand. He was standing here, right next to the sea, but he was missing being on the sea. ‘I’m a fisherman, but my boat is at the boat builder’s. I miss her.’ Did he really just admit that to this woman?
She nodded. An understanding passed between them.
‘Do you want to come along for the ride?’ she asked.
He grinned and held up his beer. ‘Maybe another time. I’m not prepared for a seafaring adventure.’
She smiled and pulled the cord to start the motor back up, reversing easily away from the shore while Leifur watched, sorry that their encounter was at an end. Should he have invited her ashore?
‘It was nice to meet you!’ she called just before she turned the tiller to head away.
‘I’m Leifur! What’s your name?’
He could see her respond, but her name was lost to the wind now that she was further away. But he felt sure he would see her again.
Watching her, he returned her last wave just before she disappeared from view, then headed back to the bay by his cottage.
He was smiling to himself. His day turned around because of a chance encounter with a like-minded person.
If he saw her again, perhaps he’d see if she’d like to join him on Brimfaxi .
It would be good practice for the whale-watching trips.
He wondered why she didn’t book herself on a trip if she was keen to find whales.
She’d be more likely to see them that way than she would puttering up and down the fjord, but perhaps she liked the solitude.
That might explain why she was out alone.
She certainly looked as if she knew what she was doing.
He walked back to the house, feeling better than he had when he’d left.
A beer had taken the edge off, but the encounter with the woman in the boat had left him in a better state of mind.
The tendency he had, especially lately, to be stuck in his own head, wasn’t something he liked about himself.
The meeting with Jonas could have gone better.
His attempt to explain to Jonas why he was finding it difficult to fall in with the plans hadn’t been enough.
Brimfaxi might be his boat, but that was only the case now because Jonas had been kind enough to allow Leifur to join his business.
Now that he looked back at the meeting today, he was on the road to sabotaging the opportunity for himself.
Were it not for Jonas’s patience, that might already have happened.
Back at the house, he sat at his laptop and tapped out a quick email to Jonas apologising again for being overly defensive about the idea of having a marine biologist on the boat.
It wasn’t a bad idea. And perhaps that was something that would set them apart from the other tour companies to begin with.
He hoped he had wiped the slate clean and vowed that this was the beginning of his embracing whatever came his way instead of fighting everything.
The days of fighting were over. He’d fought for Brimfaxi and won.
There was no going back now; she would never be a fishing boat again, and there were no more fights he needed to have now.
Jonas was on his side, and it was about time he showed Jonas that it went both ways.
He’d go into the office tomorrow and help with whatever the next part of the plan was.
And he’d hope that the next time he went down to the shore, the woman in the boat might be passing to remind him that there was more to life than bitterness and loss. That brightness could come when you least expected it, from a passing encounter with a stranger, and turn your day around.