11
WHY DID HE offer to take Astrid out today of all days?
He was on his way to collect Brimfaxi from the boatyard, and he was nervous.
If the boat didn’t feel like his boat anymore, he knew he’d be devastated, and he was worried that he might not shake off a mood like that before he picked Astrid up as arranged at Reykjavik harbour in a couple of hours.
He trusted the process; he’d signed off on everything after all, but it was one thing seeing plans and drawings.
They would never be able to tell him how the boat would feel after the work was done.
He parked his truck in the car park and took a deep breath. This was it. The huge door to the warehouse-looking building that housed the dry dock was open, and Leifur went in.
‘ Hae , Leifur!’
He waved in greeting to his friend Carl, who had led the refit.
Carl came over, and they shook hands. ‘Come, she’s outside.’
They walked through to the door on the other side. Brimfaxi was waiting. Back in the water and moored on the quay.
There she was. For the most part, she looked the same. Beautiful, with shiny new paintwork in the same royal blue shade that she’d always been, with bright white for the wheelhouse and deck.
‘What do you think?’
Leifur was overcome and only managed a brief nod.
‘Come on, let me show you around.’
They climbed aboard. The deck seemed huge now that the rigs had been removed.
Freshly-stained planks of teak now covered it and were flawless, elevating the boat from a utilitarian fishing boat to a vessel ready to accept guests.
The benches were well-fitted, and the new railings that ran around the deck matched the old ones so well, that no one but Leifur would know where the old ones ended and the new ones began.
‘She’s incredible,’ said Leifur.
Carl smiled and headed down the new steps into the bowels of the boat.
Before he followed, Leifur took a moment and stepped into the wheelhouse.
It was exactly as it had been, apart from the fresh paint.
He grinned, running his hands over the wheel.
She still felt like his boat, and it was a tremendous relief.
‘Leifur?’
‘Coming!’
He could hardly take in the space below deck.
It was so different from what it had been like before.
Most of the space had been taken up by the ice machine and fish holds, but now, it was open, with new windows on each side and comfortable chairs.
The old galley had been refreshed and now had a door that closed on the bottom to create a serving hatch.
‘I don’t know how to thank you.’
‘All part of the service. I’m glad you’re pleased, Leifur.’
Leifur set off for Reykjavik to meet Astrid with a big grin on his face as he stood in the wheelhouse, the familiar rumble of the boat, just as it had always been, beneath his feet.
It was a chilly spring day but not too windy, meaning the sea was relatively calm for the time of year.
He hoped Astrid was well prepared with plenty of layers of clothing on to help keep the cold out.
He spotted her waiting on the quayside as he approached.
She was holding two coffees, and once she saw him, she kept pace with him as he headed to the new allotted berth that Jonas had organised for Brimfax i.
She was to be moored in Reykjavik harbour permanently now, so he was going to have to commute in his truck rather than come back and forth from Hafnarfjoreur every day on the boat.
Jonas had pointed out that it was crazy to pay for berths in both places, and Leifur had reluctantly agreed.
Especially since Jonas was footing the bill.
‘Permission to come aboard?’ Astrid said.
Leifur jumped off the boat to secure the lines, then took the coffee she offered him.
‘After you.’ He held out his arm, gesturing for her to climb aboard. ‘Here, I can hold your coffee.’
‘Thanks.’ Astrid jumped from the edge of the boat down to the deck.
Without the gangplank, it was around half a metre but made Leifur realise that they’d have to use it all the time.
He was so used to doing that jump on and off himself, never having to consider that anyone other than physically-fit fishermen would embark and disembark.
‘She’s a lovely boat,’ Astrid said, taking her coffee from him and moving aside so that he could join her on deck. ‘Everything looks so shiny and new. Tell me what she was like before?’
Leifur gave her the tour that Carl had given him, painting a picture for Astrid of how it used to be, especially down below where he could still hardly believe it was so big .
‘What an amazing transformation. Are you pleased?’
‘Yes. And relieved. She looks a little different, but she feels the same. She’s still my boat.’
‘Of course she is. She’s beautiful.’
Leifur saw the genuine appreciation in Astrid’s eyes. And that did something to him. For a moment, he considered pulling Astrid into his arms.
‘Where are you taking me, then?’ She headed into the wheelhouse, breaking the spell, which perhaps only he had been under.
‘I thought we might head south. Take a look at something other than marine mammals. I think we’re going to be over whales quite quickly.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ she said, feigning shock. ‘Whales are my life.’
‘Whales are not my life.’ He was about to say that fish were his life, but that wasn’t true anymore, and it still felt odd every time he realised that.
‘What’s your thing then?’
‘I don’t know. The boat, maybe?’
‘As long as you’re sure.’
He gave her a side-eye, and she grinned then bumped herself against him gently.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said. ‘Show me something better than a whale.’
He started the engine again and took the wheel, heading out of the harbour. Astrid left the wheelhouse and stood at the bow, the wind in her hair making him wish for the second time in half an hour that he could wrap his arms around her.
‘Hey, get yourself inside and put a lifejacket on!’ he called out. He’d been remiss in setting off without remembering the new rules of the boat, but it was the first time.
‘Where are they? I’ll get you one.’
‘I’ve only got two so far,’ he said, pulling two pristine, modern lifejackets out of his bag. ‘We need to sort out the equipment. I think Jonas is making a list.’
Astrid took her position back on the bow once again. It was exactly the stance she’d had when he’d seen her in the small boat near his house. Her eyes were on the water, watching. He guessed it was habit after being on research boats for her old job.
It took around half an hour for them to skirt around the coast, heading north from Reykjavik, and Leifur estimated it would be another hour until they got to their destination, the island of Andriesey off the west coast.
‘Can I get you a drink? Do we have anything?’
‘There should be some instant coffee in the galley and maybe some powdered milk. Or I have a couple of bottles of water in my bag.’
‘Coffee’s good,’ she said, and disappeared down to the galley.
Leifur liked that she felt at home on the boat. It was because she was used to boats, he told himself, not because she felt particularly at home on his boat. But whatever the reason, she fitted in here.
When the island was in sight, he let Astrid in on the surprise.
‘Look in my bag. There are some binoculars,’ he said, keeping his hands on the wheel. It would be time to drop the anchor in a few minutes, but they needed to get a little closer first.
She looked at him suspiciously. ‘You want me to take the wheel while you look?’
‘Sure,’ he said, surprising himself since he’d hardly ever allowed that when he’d been fishing.
He rummaged in his bag and pulled out the pair of binoculars he’d packed along with a small picnic.
‘Here,’ he said, handing them to her. ‘And we’re not looking at the water. You need to aim higher.’
She frowned, and then a smile lit up her face. ‘Puffins?’
He nodded, enjoying seeing the reaction he’d been hoping for.
‘I’m never here at the right time to see them!’
He smiled, lost in watching her looking for the first glimpse of a puffin. Once they were closer, he dropped the anchor.
‘Come on, let’s go to the bow,’ he said.
Now that the boat had stopped, the wind seemed fiercer.
Leifur pulled a woollen beanie hat from his pocket and pulled it down so that his ears were covered, then shoved his hands deep into his pockets and settled in to wait for his turn with the binoculars.
It might be a while, but he didn’t care.
He’d seen the puffins many times, and anyway, he had come to show Astrid and was thrilled she was enjoying them.
‘It’s incredible seeing them dive into the water,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen a few with fish in their beaks.’
The cliffs were a mass of puffins, their white breasts clear to see even from this distance. It was the start of the breeding season, and this island was a temporary home to a large proportion of the world population of Atlantic puffins.
‘Here,’ Astrid said, handing the binoculars to Leifur. She glanced at his hat and reached into a pocket for her own, taking her hood down briefly and then pulling it up again over the hat.
‘Cold?’
‘No, not yet.’
Leifur could feel Astrid’s eyes on him while he had a look through the binoculars. Watching the puffins was endlessly entertaining. He’d seen them lots of times before when he’d been out on the boat but had never had time to stop and have a proper look.
‘Look! Did you see that one? It had so many fish it was dropping them all the way back to the nest,’ Astrid said.
Leifur handed the binoculars back to her. ‘They’re incredible.’
‘Are you sure you’ve seen enough?’
‘You go for it. I’m going to sort some food out for us downstairs. Come down when you’re ready.’
‘Okay,’ she said with a grin. ‘Thank you, Leifur. This is amazing.’
It was around twenty minutes later when Astrid appeared in the galley, by which time Leifur had laid out the simple lunch of bread, cooked sliced lamb, cucumber sticks, tomatoes and skyr yogurt with fruit.
‘It’s toasty warm in here,’ she said, taking her coat off and sitting down opposite him at the small wooden table.
‘The heating runs off the engine, so it is pretty good.’ Another thing he was relieved about: finding that the heating was still in working order.
‘It’s really cosy.’ She picked up a cucumber stick and munched it while Leifur was slicing some bread off the end of the loaf. ‘Did you ever have to sleep down here?’
‘Sometimes. There’s a berth in there,’ he said, nodding to a door in the corner.
‘We usually left very early in the morning and were back very late at night. It’s not very comfortable staying on the boat, but if the weather’s bad, sometimes it’s safer to stay out at sea rather than try to get back to the port.
’ He passed her a plate with two slices of bread.
‘Did you ever get stuck in scary weather?’
‘There is a lot of bad weather in Iceland, you know that. It is no different at sea. Fishing is a dangerous job in good weather or bad.’ He didn’t want to get into the details of the long night where he’d lost his father in a terrible storm.
That he’d had to make the dreadful decision to turn back to port without him.
And worse, explain to his mother what had happened .
‘We had a couple of terrible storms when I was on the research boat. Those were the longest nights of my life.’ She looked at him meaningfully, and he wondered whether she knew, or whether she assumed as a fisherman he would have had his fair share of close shaves. ‘This lamb is gorgeous.’
‘My mother cooked it. She sends me home with food every time I visit as if she thinks I can’t cook for myself.’
‘It’s a sign of love,’ Astrid said.