Fisher-people are often referred to as fishermen. Fishermen are often referred to as liars, especially in regard to the size of the one that got away. Telling the truth at the local hotel was not a known habit of fishermen who drank there. A certain person saw what happened but being a fisherman no one believed a word. A second witness, Duggy, who was illegally fishing in a no-go zone did not volunteer help but told his friends at the hotel what he believed he saw. Admitting where he was fishing stopped him reporting it to the police. A friend at the hotel suggested he said nothing in case the police had him examined at a psychiatric hospital. One person sitting in the corner stirred.
‘Crocodiles have been seen up the top end of Sandy Strait years ago and in the Mary River crocs were seen by locals. They were all under 4 metres in length. What you’re describing would ‘ave to be over 4 metres. For a fisherman to be taken by a croc it would ‘ave to be 4 metres or bigger, and the fact this bloke whoever he is, was landing a fish, leaning over the side of the boat, I think you’re on a winner. You’ll have to go to the police and tell ‘em what you saw,’ the person said.
‘Nah, I’d be nabbed again for fishing that spot. Nah, just you blokes be careful. I’m not going fishing again until it’s sighted and caught. It was definitely a croc as far as I‘m concerned. I’m going home and sleep. I have to work later. And not one word to anyone about what I saw,’ said Duggy.
After Duggy left, Thelma, the barmaid, asked the mob gathered in the corner, ‘Does that include me? He never told me to shut my mouth. My Jim goes fishing at the cod hole every now and then. I’ll be telling Jim what I heard when I get home.’
‘Oh dear, do you realise what will happen then?’ a voice cried from within the group discussing crocodiles.
‘Hey, there was a group of tourists in the corner listening to every word. You blokes would never know how to talk quiet. We won’t have any tourists here if you mob keep spouting off about crocodiles,’ Thelma said.
Within an hour, the suggestion a crocodile was the culprit was on the lips of every person who had anything to do with fishing. Father Fred was told of the rumour and his response was immediate.
‘Was the man a catholic? Would it be that man from Sicily who has not been to church since he arrived? I know he was evil. If he is the man I might have to eat my words I suppose. I know Mary, how about a feast of fresh prawns tonight with some chicken added. That meal the ladies prepared was so tasty. Is it a new recipe?’
‘Father, it is him, he disappeared and it’s rumoured a crocodile. I wonder if it was a crocodile that took Greg when he was fishing.’
‘Mary, if it was then it would be a swift death. The most powerful jaws and crushes its prey. Death would be swift. Mary, do we have any whisky left in the kitchen. I think I need that rare drink of whisky to steady my nerves. No wine tonight. Something a little bit stronger is needed I think, I do miss Greg and his friendly donations of fresh fish. I haven’t had any to give away since his disappearance.’
‘Father, the weather is changing. I don’t think there will be fresh fish in this village for a while. It’s the North Wind. There is a coastal wind warning and someone noticed the trawlers returning from sea and have secured their boats. Father, Ruth’s husband is one of the trawler skippers and she was telling me that when he says “The North Wind has arrived, fishing is the last thing to do” it means no fishing for a while.’
‘Mary, I have fished all my life and some of the biggest fish I have caught was when there was wind in the trees. Insects are blown by the wind into the water and the fish wait for that to happen. I know the seasons and the reasons Mary so we will simply work with nature.’