Presently the loneliness of the Cove was broken by the return of
Vincent Ferrara. They skidded the _Bluebird_ out on the beach at the
Cove's head and overhauled her inside and out, hull and machinery. That
brought them well into April. The new carrier was complete from truck to
keelson. She had been awaiting only MacRae's pleasure for her maiden
sea-dip. So now, with the _Bluebird_ sleeked with new paint, he went
down for the launching.

There was a little ceremony over that.

"It's bad luck, the very worst sort of luck, to launch a boat without
christening her in the approved manner," Nelly Abbott declared. "I
insist on being sponsor. Do let me, Jack."

So the new sixty-footer had a bottle of wine from the Abbott cellar
broken over her brass-bound stemhead as her bows sliced into the salt
water, and Nelly's clear treble chanted:

"I christen thee _Agua Blanco_."

Vin Ferrara's dark eyes gleamed, for _agua blanco_ means "white water"
in the Spanish tongue.

The Terminal Fish Company's new coolers were yawning for fish when the
first blueback run of commercial size showed off Gray Rock and the
Ballenas. All the Squitty boats went out as soon as the salmon came.
MacRae skippered the new and shining _Blanco_, brave in white paint and
polished brass on her virgin trip. He followed the main fleet, while the
_Bluebird_ scuttled about to pick up stray trollers' catches and to tend