Henry led the way into the building. The first thing that struck Bill was how clean the building was. It almost looked like it was brand new.
Fish Plant
"Matty got on da boys and made dem clean da plant all up, jest in case wese found someone to but 'er. Dey gave she a fresh coat of paint, hosed da place down and cleaned up da machinery as best dey could. Been a few year since da plant be used fer anyting besides da boys fixing up dey cars and doin' a bit of weldin'"
A man came toward the two, hand extended.
"Youse must be Mr. Willams."
Bill shook his hand.
"Just call me Bill. We have met before, but not formally."
"Den Bill it bes. Ise be Clayton Rideout. I used to be da manager of did plant years before."
He looked around the plant.
"Don't be lookin' like much now, but back in da day, she was a beauty."
"It still looks like it could do the job," Bill commented.
Clayton shook his head.
"No mes son. She's 'ad 'er day."
Clayton Rideout
"Now Clayt, me son, don't be discouragin' Bill 'ere."
Clayton put up his hand.
"Now 'enry. Youse knows me to be a 'onest man. Ise not gonna lies to da young fella."
Clayton put his and on Bill's shoulder.
"Lets me show youse son."
For the next thirty minutes or so, Clayton walked around the plant and explained to Bill what each piece of machinery was and exactly what its purpose was. Or at least, what it used to be.
When the tour was over, Clayton led the way to his office.
Once they were sat down, Clayton took a bottle of rum from his desk and put three coffee mugs on the desk.
He spoke as he poured.
"Back in 'er 'eyday, dis ole girl could process a couple ton of fish fillets and fish cakes. Our Tuckamore Bay brand was known all over da province. But when deys cut back da fisheries, we was 'ard 'it, me son. Wes were barely able to git enough fish to keep da ole girl runnin'."
He drank down his rum and poured another.
"'ventually, da boys what 'ad da boats sold der licenses back to da government and went lookin' for other jobs. Der were like tirty families dat had to move from da Bay and goes elsewhere, lookin' fer work.
So, 'bout tin year ago, wes made da decision to shut da ole girl down."
A sad look came over Clayton's face.
"It were a sad day fer da Bay, Bill, me son."
"But wes can git dis place up and runnin' again," Henry piped in.
"Matty be at da capital now, talkin' to dem fisheries people. Ifin anyone can talks dem people into givin' us some fish, it be Matty."
"'enry me son. Fer once stop bein' a politician and takes yer 'ead out be your ass.
Matty be a wonderful girl, but dere be no ways in 'ell dat dem fisheries people be given' us 'nuff fish dat wes can open dis plant again.
Youse know da difference den dat.
And even ifin dey did, whose gonna catch dem?"
Clayton pointed out through the window.
"Dem boats out dere been tied up fer years. 'alf of dem won't even turn over and every one of dem needs work. So youse tells me, whose gonna do da fishin?'
Clayton shook his head and drank his rum staring at Henry.
"Okay. Clayton. Lets just say that Matty gets some allotment for fish. How much would it cost to get the plant up and running?"
Bill was trying his best to keep the conversation positive.
Clayton let out a long sigh.
"Bill, me son. Matty not gonna ..."
Bill put up my hand.
"Let's just pretend for a moment, eh Clayton. Let's pretend that Matty gets enough allotment to open the plant."
Clayton nodded, taking a deep breath.
"Okay, me son. Lets us just pretend. Right now we would 'ave to replace about 'alf da machinery in da plant. Right now dat would be costin' maybe nar on a million dollar or more. Been year since Ise checked on prices of anyting.
Den youse need repairs to da wharf. Deres another hundred grand or more.
And den be da boats.
Wese needs at least tree or four boats on da water and right now, dem boats are not ready fer da water."
"How much Clayton?"
"Bill, me son. Brand new, dem boats can bes up to a half million dollars."
"Can we salvage any of the boats?"
Clayton sat back in his chair.
"Dere be six boat out dere. Ifin wes scrapped dem down wes be lucky to git maybe two good boats out of dem. Wit a couple hundred grand wes might be ables to git tree ready fer the water."
I did the calculations in my head.
"So for, lets say, two million dollars, we could have the plant ship shape and three boats ready for the water."
Clayton poured another drink. He sat back and stared at Bill.
"Dat bes just a rough estimate, Bill, me son. Youse still needs captains fer da boats and people to do the repairs and upgrades on da plant, boats and wharf and den youse needs to train people to run da plant.
Youse lookin' at maybe another million dollar or more.
And where in da name of 'ell is Tuckamore Bay gonna git dat kind of money?"
He looked at Henry.
"Youse got dat kind of money 'angin' round dere, 'enry?"
Henry shook his head.
"Youse knows da difference be dat, Clayt, me son. Wese be like da rest of everyone. Wes jest bes makin' ends meet."
Clayton looked at Bill.
"Den dere youse 'as it, Bill, me son. Even if Matty gits da fish, wes don't 'ave da money."
Bill stood up and looked out over the plant, through the large windows that surrounded Clayton's office.
"Money is not the issue, Clayton."
"Well Bill, me son. Even ifin it don't be a problem, dere still be another problem."
Bill nodded.
"I know. If Matty don't get the fish, there is no way we can run the plant anyway."
Clayton stood up and walked to the window, next to Bill.
"Bill, me son. Tuckamore Bay is a tiny little village and in a year be so, it won't even be dat. Da government is gonna shut down da Bay and wes all gonna be relocated. Dat bes da simple facts, no matter what 'enry dere tinks or what Matty do. Dey are gonna shut down da Bay."
"Not if I can help it."
Clayton put his arm around Bill's shoulder, laughing.
"Bill, me son. Ise knows dat youse jest found out dat your peoples come from 'ere in da Bay and Ise knows youse wants to 'elp us out. Youse seems like a fine young fella, but da writin' bes on da wall. Da Bay is gonna be shut down and dere be nuttin' youse or anyone else can do to stop it."
"Clayt, me son. Must youse always be da voice of doom 'n' gloom," Henry snapped.
"Fer fuck sakes, me son."
Clayton spun around and glared at Henry.
"No, 'enry me son. Ise not doom and gloom, but Ise is realistic. Ise not a dreamer. Ise seen da ups and downs in my sixty year or so and dis be the downest of da downs.
It would takes a miracle ..."
He paused and pondered his words.
"No, me son, Ise wrong. It wud takes a whole piles of miracles to save dis Bay. And last Ise seen, dere ain't been too many miracles comin' our way."
Bill turned to Clayton.
"You say you have no miracles here, Clayton?"
"None dat Ise ned seein'."
Bill smiled.
"You have the spirits of your ancestors walking around the Bay. You think that isn't a miracle?"
"Dat jest bes da Bay, Bill, me son. Lots of des little Bays 'as dat."
Bill shrugged.
"Well, its the first I have ever seen and to me, that is a miracle."
Bill turned back to the window, watching the two men, who were at the far end of the plant, welding.
"What are those two men doing?"
Henry answered.
"Ise 'opes it bes okay dere Bill. Wes lets da boys come in 'ere and do dere weldin' now and den."
Bill shook my head.
"No, I am sure its fine. Remember, I don't own this plant yet."
Bill started for the door of the office.
"I just want to see what they are making."