Our hotel was near the water, but we chose to eat human food instead of taking a swim to catch our own. The port seemed too busy, with too many lights, to creep naked into the water unseen.
We chose a restaurant at random. We both ordered chilli mussels with beer to drink. Our tastes differed in many things, as much as our appearances, but Maria and I both had a taste for chilli. This became problematic at the islands, as our stock rapidly became depleted, but this trip we had purchased large quantities of condiments containing chilli. I hoped we would not run out.
“Are you new here, or just passing through?” The man behind the bar who took our order sounded curious. It was apparent that we were strangers to Geraldton.
“We’ve been fishing out at the Houtman Abrolhos Islands, off the coast. We were sent back to Geraldton for supplies,” I responded.
“A few days’ fishing? Which charter boat are you on? Have you caught anything good?” The man sounded eager.
“More than a few days. We’re crew from the rock lobster vessel, Siren. The lobster catch is not too bad this season,” I replied cautiously.
“The Siren? I haven’t heard of that boat,” the man said, his expression puzzled.
A bell rang in the distance. “I’ll go get your meals,” he said quickly.
The chilli mussels were brought out and we ate quickly, leaving before he could ask further questions.
As Vanessa had said, we were not to be too friendly, or draw undue attention.