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Something Fishy on Nantucket Sound

Something Fishy on Nantucket Sound

by John Prophet

Legend has it that the greatest fish story ever told came out of Nantucket Sound near the Town of Harwich. It was all about Frank Blackwell and his business partner, Larry Hansberry. Frank had an insatiable appetite for sport fishing which was well suited to their sports equipment business. He tested the new rods, reels, and lures.

The men, both in their late forties, were unlikely partners by any standards, but they were successful in spite of their differences. Larry was a quiet, unassuming man, good at numbers, athletically built, often giving in to Frank rather than prolong an argument. Frank was a consummate salesperson, stubborn, cocky, egotistical, boorish, and grossly overweight. Larry chose a simple life, less materialistic; Frank, to satisfy his desire to mingle with the rich and famous, built Blackwell Manor, a huge mansion with its own private dock on Nantucket Sound in Harwich Port.

Larry did not share his partner's enthusiasm for the sport of fishing and his interest in continuing his partnership with Frank was flagging. His expertise and interest was in hunting, mountain climbing and camping, but Frank insisted that he accompany him on his excursions.

"Good for you, good for business," said Frank.

Yeah, you just want me along to do the dirty work, thought Larry.

He hated dressing up for the part, matching his partner's outrageous garb.

"Good for business in case someone sees us," said Frank.

Most irritating was the foolish hat stuck with hooks and flies that were never used and the jacket and trousers that were better suited for an African safari. In fact, he detested all of it as much as anyone could detest anything. Nantucket Sound in clear sight of Blackwell Manor was a fair testing ground for Frank's fishing gear, but not for him.

Larry kept his ear to the ground for the local gossip; daily he checked news from the Internet on the activity on the Sound. "There's been a sighting off Monomoy, Frank, a big one" declared Larry. "Are we going out there today?"

"All in good time," replied Frank in his usual insufferable tone. "I'll be fishing the same place as usual."

"I will be fishing," growled Frank under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"It should be good fishing, but I think we should head to Monomoy."

"Stow the gear and cast off."

"All right, Frank," he responded with disdain, "but I think we should go to Monomoy."

It was a mystery to him that Frank preferred fishing near the Manor where the fish were not as robust as in other spots nor were the fish much of a challenge. Nonetheless, he carried out his duties faithfully, gritting his teeth all the while.

The routine was quite simple. Frank owned a twenty-eight foot boat that was equipped with the trappings of the inveterate fisherman. He hired a caretaker for his boat, so the only thing that Larry had to do was submit a lunch menu to the cook at Blackwell Manor. The cook delivered the food to the Manor dock at an appointed time. Larry then handled details while at sea.

On the dock, Larry reported, "Cook told me about another sighting at Monomoy, Frank. More than just a sighting." Seeing that Frank appeared indifferent to the matter, he continued. "A fisherman has been eaten by a fish."

That got Frank's attention. "Eaten by a fish?"

"Yeah, Frank. The guy caught it, but it was so large it pulled him overboard. Neither man nor fish has been seen since. Someone reported that the fish was at least ten feet long and weighed easily five hundred pounds."

"Extraordinary," exclaimed Frank, "but pure poppycock."

On hearing this, Larry held his breath and counted to ten. He showed great restraint at Frank's cold-hearted response. He opted for a more persuasive tack. "It would be extraordinary if you were the one to catch the fish and put the townspeople's fears to rest."

"All in good time," responded Frank as he had so many times. "Cast off."

They spent the day in the usual place. Frank was unusually docile, more often dozing off than attentive to the rod and reel. Larry had to sit idly by listening to the loud snoring emanating from Frank's despicable-looking, overweight body. Today, however, Larry was a gathering storm. Not only did he detest fishing and the sight of this insensitive man, he despised Frank for shirking his duty. If such a fish does exist, thought Larry, who was better qualified to catch it than Frank.

At breakfast two days later in the manor, Larry sat idly by while Frank's cook served up a silver tray loaded with a plateful of eggs, toast, and sausage. While Frank dove into the food, Larry declared once again, "Another sighting, Frank." This time his voice reflected his contempt. He continued, "Another fisherman eaten."

"What's that? What did you say?"

Frank was too involved with slicing his sausage and chomping on his eggs and toast to bother with the full impact of what Larry reported.

"Another fisherman has been eaten." Frank's reaction was far from Larry's expectations. Taking a deep breath, he said, "May I speak freely?"

"Of course, of course," replied Frank, his mouth full of food.

"I believe it is your duty to handle the situation. You're the expert. No one is more qualified than you to catch it. Besides, it will be great for business."

Larry glared at Frank as Frank kept his head down and filled his mouth with more eggs and sausage. "They got what they deserved."

Larry reached out and placed his hand on the silver tray. It was tempting to hit Frank with it. "But, do you believe that one fish should be allowed to terrorize the Sound and to run rampant?"

Frank wiped the scrambled eggs from his chin and put down his napkin. "Maybe you're right, Larry. Yes, I do believe the people will think of me as their savior and it will be great for business. I'll be a hero, won't I?"

The thought of Frank seen as a hero made Larry nauseous. "Shall I prepare for Monomoy?"

"Yes, Monomoy it is. Usual time."

"Very good."

Later, off Monomoy Point, Larry sat in silence listening to the rhythmic lapping of the water against the boat. Overhead, the sky was overcast with darkening clouds gathering in the west.

"Looks like rain, Frank."

"Harumph! A little rain won't hurt us. Not a bite for over an hour. Where is this big fish?"

Where is the fish? thought Larry. How could it not be here at Frank's beck and call.

Suddenly, Frank's fishing pole bent nearly to the water and the reel screamed as it whirred at an alarming rate. "I've got him. By god, I've got him," he yelled.

Larry's face turned ghostly white as a huge fish burst forth from the depths of the Sound, suspended itself six feet in midair then plummeted into the water sending spray over the boat and rocking the boat in its wake. Its dimensions exceeded all reports.

Frank stood up in the boat, arms tensed to do battle. Larry, on the other hand, had another idea. He, too, stood up, but with a different objective in mind. He stumbled forward, arms outstretched and caught Frank square in the middle of his back. With little effort, he knocked Frank off balance and shoved him over the side.

The stubborn Frank hit the water like a boulder holding onto the rod for dear life. For a moment, his huge body looked like a sperm whale skimming across the surface of the Sound. Then, the fishing line relaxed and he sank out of sight. A pale red blotch appeared on the surface of the water. Frank was no more.

Gleefully, Larry started the engine and steered back to the dock, taking his time so he could savor the moment. He was tempted to scream with delight but he kept himself under control. When he reached the dock, he dutifully stowed the gear and pranced to the Manor kitchen with an extra perkiness in his step.

"You're back," said the cook.

"And so I am, and happy that I won't be going out again."

Larry told the cook about Frank's demise.

"It's been a long time you've thought about it, Larry."

With a grin, Larry declared, "That it has. I call it my Manor fish destiny. And that's good for business." 

John M. Prophet is a Co-Chair of the Harwich Cultural Council & Clerk of The Friends of the Harwich Cultural Exchange Centers, a 501(c)(3) organization.  He is the author of five Casey Miller mysteries; has chaired two writing groups at the Brooks Free Library; is an active member of Sisters in Crime, & The Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators. John holds a Masters degree in Special Education from Boston University. He lives in Harwich with his wife, Ellen. Visit John's website here and his Historic Harwich blog on CapeCodToday here.