Photo of the Pride of Lamond's Crew

Steven Seagull swoops over (left to right) Cabin Boy Matt, First Mate Glen, Harbour Master Gamble, Skipper Bruce and Deck Hand Chris on board the Pride of Lamond.

Photo courtesy of Ewen Glen and Chris Arnott.

Life in Abundance

"Pull!" shouted First Mate Glen. "Pull!"

The nets were bursting with fat, juicy, north Atlantic cod as the crew of the Pride of Lamond used all their might to heave them out of the water and onto the deck. It was the hardest they had had to work in their whole fishing career, never before had the nets been so full. Cabin Boy Matt especially was struggling.

"Pull, Cabin Boy Matt, you big girl!" shouted First Mate Glen. The net was slipping from their grasp and every one of the crew needed to give their full effort. First Mate Glen could see that Cabin Boy Matt was at risk of losing the catch for them. "Retard!" he yelled at him in frustration as the net began to slip back into the water.

"I am pullin' reet 'ard!" shouted Cabin Boy Matt in return, leaning so far back as he pulled on the net that he was almost horizontal.

The sun was blazing, turning the arms of the men red as they slowly dragged the net and, more importantly, its valuable contents onto their vessel. As soon as it was safely on board the crew gave thanks to the Lord before tipping the fish into the stores below, into which First Mate Glen, Deck Hand Chris and Cabin Boy Matt immediately descended in order to gut and pack them ready for market.

The sea rose and fell beneath the Pride of Lamond as Skipper Bruce guided the vessel back to port. The sound of the the Wee Frees, First Mate Glen's favourite band, rose from the CD player on the deck below, where it jollied the men in their work. Skipper Bruce smiled. First Mate Glen had been dying to play their greatest hits album, entitled Now That's What I Call a Psalmody!, all week. The wind blew through the hair of Skipper Bruce, tugging at his double cowlick, as he leaned out of the wheelhouse window. He was happy. That week's fishing had been hugely successful and the rotting wooden hull of his vessel now groaned under the weight of the north Atlantic cod that it contained. He dreamed of all the ways he could spend the money he and his crew would gain from the haul and he allowed his mind to drift like a corpse in a river. He imagined himself in the Swiss Alps, skiing gleefully down virgin white slopes as the theme tune to Diagnosis Murder played as if by magic from the clouds. A week of that would indeed be heaven. Who knows, with this haul plus the money he was making from his DJing it may just be possible. He may even find himself a girl on his next Oak Hall trip.

He flicked open Your Two Breasts are Like Two Fawns, the book of Christian chat-up lines he had surreptitiously purchased from the top shelf at The Lady's Head. He had thought that one of them would gain him a nice young lady, but he was no longer sure. Telling a woman that he had been given the gift of tongues was not his style and he held Graham Kendrick in too high esteem to use the first line of any of his songs as a means of gaining a quick kiss. Nope. There was only one thing for it. He would have to learn how to do a rubix cube really quickly, that would impress the ladies.

His thoughts were soon brought back to reality as he saw a flare rise from the waters to his right. Following the line of smoke back down to earth he could clearly see, just a mile or so away, a stricken trawler. It had run aground on a rock and looked to be sinking quickly. Raising his binoculars to his eyes he could make out figures in the water. The situation was grave, which would be exactly where the stricken vessel's crew would be going if they did not receive help quickly.

Skipper Bruce rested his hands on the wheel of the Pride of Lamond. The grounded ship was close, but a rescue would take time. The massive haul of north Atlantic cod needed to be sold while still fresh and the catch the crew were working on at that moment needed to be prepared as soon as possible to prevent it from rotting. No. There was no way Skipper Bruce could help the crew of the sinking trawler. He turned the wheel of the Pride of Lamond to the left, towards the harbour, prosperity and rest.

* * *

"No Heth... no... that's not the case... no... it's not pronounced 'Kamchaatka', it's 'Kamchatka'... Yes, you are wrong... Yes, I did just say you were wrong... No, that doesn't mean that I'm calling you an idiot... No, it doesn't... it doesn't... OK... OK, I'm sorry, Heth... Yes, I am sorry for calling you an idiot... I am... I would prove it to you by taking you out for dinner, but I'm still pretty full... No, I had a couple of spoonfuls of Deck Hand Chris' porridge this morning and phew! I'm still stuffed!... OK, Heth... I'll see you soon... Bye... Yes, of course I love you... I do... OK... OK... Bye Heth."

First Mate Glen sighed heavily, turned off his phone and entered The Lady's Head. He spotted Cabin Boy Matt sat at a table on the other side of the room bent over a sheet of paper.

"Hey, what are you up to?" he asked his colleague, placing his half-half-pint, which would be more than enough for him, on the table and sitting down opposite the Yorkshireman.

"Ey up, First Mate Glen," replied Cabin Boy Matt. "I'm translating the Bible."

"Oh," replied First Mate Glen in reply. "That's really good, it's great that you're doing something so useful. There are so many people groups in the world that don't have the Scriptures in their own language. Wonderful. What language are you translating it into?"

"I'm putting into noun-free English," answered Cabin Boy Matt, proudly.

"What?"

"English, but without nouns. I reckon there's a real need for it."

"Oh," said First Mate Glen, a little stunned. "Er... how far have you got?"

"I've only managed the first verse of Gensis so far. It's pretty tough going, harder than it looks."

First Mate Glen swivelled the piece of paper round so that he could read it:

Very, very early on, incredibly so, he who reigns majestically and omnipotently created that which is above where those who follow him will dwell after they die and he also created that which is below upon which we now dwell, though, of course, we did not there dwell when it was first created for we did not then exist.

"It's... er... quite a mouthful, isn't it?" stated First Mate Glen.

"Aye, that'll be one o' t' drawbacks when we eradicate nouns from English. Still, that's evolution."

"Evolution?"

"Aye, we'll become more efficient by getting rid of the parts of language we don't need, like nouns."

"But it's not really more efficient, is it? We're really just beating about the bush."

"No, it is more efficient, a lot more efficient because we don't really need nouns, as the fact that I can write part of Genesis without them shows, it's just that the beating about the bush is one of the drawbacks of getting rid of them. Still, efficiency needs sacrifice."

At that moment Deck Hand Chris and Skipper Bruce, along with Ali, photographer with the St Andrews Citizen, joined them at the table.

"Ali's just been telling us what happened to that ship we saw yesterday afternoon, the one that had run aground," Deck Hand Chris informed them.

"You saw them?" asked Ali in surprise.

"Aye," replied Skipper Bruce.

"But why didn't you help them?" she asked.

"Skipper decided we had to get the fish back to port before it began to rot. We all think he did the right thing," said Deck Hand Chris.

"And we prayed for them," put in First Mate Glen. "We prayed for their safety when we'd got back to port."

"I'll have to tell Sam that," replied Ali, taking out a notepad and jotting something down.

"I'm sorry, who's Sam?" asked Deck Hand Chris.

"Sam Aritan, he's writing the report on the matter for tomorrow's paper and it's already up on his Jerusalem to Jericho blog. He's the one who told me all about it," Ali answered.

"So what happened to the boat?" asked First Mate Glen.

"Well, a few minutes after you lot had passed Pastor Iain..."

"Oh, he's a lovely chap," said Cabin Boy Matt. "Always reet jolly."

"Yes, well, Pastor Iain passed in his Abundance," continued Ali.

"In his what?" asked Deck Hand Chris.

"The Abundance is the name of his yacht. He saw them, but decided that he urgently needed to get back because he hadn't finished preparing that night's sermon."

"I've got verse two!" shouted Cabin Boy Matt.

"Excuse me?" said Ali, questioningly.

"Verse two of my noun-free English version of the Bible. It reads 'Now that upon which we now dwell was formless and empty, that which is dark was over that which is on top of that which is profound, not philosophically so but physically so, and that which is spiritual of he who reigns majestically and omnipotently was hovering over those which are wet.'"

"It's a bit repetitive," said Deck Hand Chris.

"And 'that which is spiritual' doesn't really define the Spirit of God, for surely all of God is spiritual, though N.T. Wright might not fully agree," added First Mate Glen.

"But how else would you describe the Spirit of God?" asked Cabin Boy Matt.

"Erm... I'm not sure," replied First Mate Glen. "You could try..."

"But what about the boat?" asked Skipper Bruce, becoming increasingly exasperated. "What happened to the sinking boat?"

"Oh, right, yes," said Ali. "Well, The Grey Friar passed next."

"Those scumbags!" exclaimed First Mate Glen.

"Scoundrals!" interjected Deck Hand Chris. "I bet they left them to drown like rats!"

"Actually, they stopped and helped them out of the water," continued Ali. "They let down their lifeboats and went to pick them up. The waves were apparently quite high by then, it was a bit dangerous. But anyway, they got them on board and dried and fed them. A couple of them were badly injured, broken legs and such, God knows how they managed to stay alive in the water, and they were all suffering from acute hypothermia. First Mate Fraser bandaged them up as best she could and they took them to port and paid for them to stay in a Bupa hospital until they recover fully. Captain Campbell said he'd go back in a week to check on them and pay any extra costs."

The crew of the Pride of Lamond sat in silence as Ali finished telling them what had happened.

"So the town's scum helped them?" asked First Mate Glen.

"Looks like it," replied Ali. "And you didn't. Nor did Pastor Iain."

Skipper Bruce stood up, mumbling that he had to prepare that evening's set for the club at which he was playing, Deck Hand Chris suddenly remembered that he needed to clean the oven, First Mate Glen said that Heather needed his assistance in some matter and Cabin Boy Matt decided that he needed peace and quiet to work on verse three. All left quickly, though none of them accomplished the tasks they had set themselves for the evening, each taking to his bed early, where they thought deep into the night.