I took the job on the Belial because I needed the money. I'm not an educated man.

I never had the head for school and in my town the best way to earn your pay is fishing. I'd worked on boats before. They said

the Belil paid the best. They weren't wrong about that. My town is small and coastal. That is all I would say. I don't want to

give away the name. If people knew what was out there, they might come looking and

I don't want that.

My reasons will be clear soon enough.

Captain LeBlanc told me that he named the Bilil after his hometown.

It's a little town in the French part of Canada, not far from Montreal.

What he was doing so far from home I'll never know.

LeBlanc had a gaunt face, but a full head of healthy brown hair.

It was hard to say for sure, just how old he was.

Anywhere between 30 and 70, I might reckon.

His crew was small, and he paid well enough. There were five of us in total.

Myself, LeBlanc, Tony, Luke and Ian.

We'd often go out for a few days at a time, followed by a few days back at home.

Truth be told, I preferred being out on the water.

Not much to do at home, an idle hands are the Devil's Plaything.

The trawler would depart just before dawn to catch the early morning fish.

Some of the crew would sleep.

One man would stay up to keep watch.

Then, after a few hours, the crew would wake, have a cupber, and

said to hauling in the catch. We'd get to work, gutting and packing our hall. The guts went to the gulls. They were thankful for the meat.

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