Spider Legs Read Free Page B

than a house sometimes broke away from the ice mountain.
    But as Garth and Kalinda guided their craft among the icebergs for a few hours, they grew accustomed to the cacophonous sounds and sight—even grew to love them. They learned to navigate the boat among the icebergs with the grace of a downhill skier gliding back and forth between trees.
    “Most of these icebergs come from the west coast of Greenland,” Garth said.
    “Right, I read about that. They also drift for around three years before reaching their deathbed in the warm Gulf Stream.” Occasionally Kalinda liked to remind Garth about her own knowledge in marine geology, something Garth every now and then seemed to forget when he got into his scientific lecturing mood.
    Now the sea was calmer.
    “Care for a drink?” Garth asked.

    “No thanks.”
    “A nap?”
    “Maybe later.” Although she might be tired, Kalinda evidently didn't want to miss the wonderful sights all around her.
    Garth picked up a newspaper and began to leaf through it. “It says here that there are less codfish in the seas for the fishermen to catch these days, and that the Canadian government is subsidizing the fishermen. Wonder what could cause the sudden decline of fish?”
    “Maybe they simply were overfishing the limited local supply.”
    Garth turned the pages of the newspaper. A colorful advertisement caught his eye: it was for Martha's Fish Store, which purported to be the largest marine and freshwater aquarium store in Newfoundland. It also claimed to have a tank with over one thousand neon tetra fish. He handed the advertisement to Kalinda.
    “Let's take a look at Martha's Fish Store when we get back to the land. No sense in depending on Lisa for all our information.”
    “I'd love that.”
    As they traveled along the coast, with a few dozen icebergs in sight, the frequent roar of foundering icebergs made an otherwise serene setting more exciting than a roller coaster ride. At times even the noise of their ship's six-cylinder diesel engine couldn't be heard over the thunder of the bergs.
    Garth yawned.
    “Why don't you let me steer for a while,” Kalinda said. “You take a nap below.”
    “Not a bad idea.” Garth got stiffly to his feet, ducked under the boom, and checked a few ropes. Then he went to the hatch. He turned to Kalinda. “Come down if there's any problem.”
    Below, in a small, cozy room with a soft bed, a refrigerator, and other amenities, Garth checked a few maps and a compass. Then he examined his new chart drum navigator which enabled him to use traditional paper charts with loran or Global Position Satellite navigations systems.

    Garth was always amazed at how well the loran system worked for determining his vessel's position. Like radar, this electronic system for long range navigation was a World War II development. Unlike radar, loran required no special transmission from the ship. Instead a radio receiver operating on a low frequency gave loran the capability of receiving signals at great distances. Loran transmitting stations on shore operated in pairs; one was called the master, the other the slave station. The time difference between arriving signals allowed the ship to be located on a loran chart. Loran stations throughout the world afforded extensive loran coverage, but a ship had to be within 700 miles by day and 1,400 miles at night to receive the loran signals.
    Earlier in the morning he had slipped a chart of the Newfoundland waters under a plastic overlay on the chart drum navigator. The drum rotated to keep the part of the map he was using in view. A moving red bead marked his boat's current position. So far, so good. They should be back in Bonavista Bay in another few hours.
    Without removing any of his clothes, except for his sandals, he dived into bed and stretched out like an old dog. Before he fell asleep he thought about the sea. In spite of its dangers, humans were always attracted to the mystery and beauty of the ocean, the