Read Online Billingsgate Shoal by Rick Boyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rick Boyer
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It was a boat named Windhover that disappeared—or rather failed to report back—June 25. She was
out of Gloucester, and her dimensions matched those of Penelope to a T. Windhover disappears end of June in calm weather (so the report said). Penelope appears, having been allegedly built in same port, in Wellfleet two
months later.
The Windhover was a noncommercial vessel engaged for a the purpose of
"archaeological salvage" (this phrase directly from the
report). I remembered now Ruggles's comment as shown on the
Penelope's documentation certificate, that she was also
noncommercial. Most of all, her home port stuck out: Gloucester.
Penelope had allegedly
just been built by Mr. Daniel Murdock of Gloucester. But Sonny
Pappas, who'd repaired her, said she wasn't new. I felt little bells
tinkling in the back of the gray matter.
The Windhover's owner was a man named Walter Kincaid, of Manchester-by-the-Sea, a
posh town just south of Gloucester. I left the Coast Guard and
started up toward Beacon Hill with the name ringing in my head.
Walter Kincaid. Walter Kincaid. Where had I heard that? I was
standing on the corner opposite the Saltonstall Building on Cambridge
Street when it came to me: Wallace Kinchloe. Wallace Kinchloe was the
owner of the Penelope .
Walter Kincaid—Wallace Kinchloe.
I trudged up the hill. The chimes at the Park Street
Church boomed ten o'clock. I had a fifteen minute walk to Copley
Square and the Boston Public Library. I crossed over Beacon Hill,
just skirting the State House and dodging piles of dog shit that
littered the old cobblestone sidewalks. On the average day in Boston
you will smell four things, this being one of them. The other three
odors are Italian cooking, garbage, and the Bay if the wind is right.
I crossed the Boston Common, and made my way through clots of winos,
dopers, religious fanatics, street jugglers, street musicians, thugs,
pushers, and street crazies, to Boylston Street, where I turned right
and headed up to Copley Square.
Once inside the library I made my way to the
periodical room and scanned a series of microfilms of the Boston
Globe. I asked for the last week in June and the first week in July.
It wasn't long before I found the account of the missing boat. This
is what I read:
Windhover Still Missing
GL0UCESTER—The research vessel Windhover ,
owned and operated by Walter Kincaid of Manchester, is still reported
as missing. by the Coast Guard. The Windhover set out from Gloucester June 25, and has not been heard from or seen
since. Mr. Kincaid, a retired businessman who founded the Wheel-Lock
Corporation of Melrose, used the vessel for exploring various
archaeological expeditions along the New England coast.
According to his wife, Laura, Kincaid was
headed to Provincetown as a first stop in an expedition that would
take the Windhover down the outer Cape coast to the islands.
The disappearance of the boat is all the
more baffling to the Coast Guard because of the mild weather
recently, and accompanying calm seas.
But what was really interesting was the photograph
that went along with the aiticle. This was what I had been seeking.
The Windhover looked
familiar. Of course this wasn't surprising considering that she was a
converted commercial fishing boat. Draggers, trawlers, and lobster
boats look a lot alike. So in fact, do pleasure boats. Yet there was
a certain lilt of the gunwale line, a rise and sheer of her stem
particularly, that struck a familiar chord. I shunted the photograph
around in the microfilm viewer machine with the knots on its sides. I
read the credit on the photo's bottom: Globe Photo by Peter Scimone.
OK, I'd call him and get a print. I returned the
microfilm and on the way back down Boylston Street stopped at the
Boylston Street Union for a run and a sauna bath. I ran five miles
around the gym floor; there is no track at the Boston YMCU. There is
no pool there either. In fact there isn't anything except an old
four-story stone building that's loaded
out of Gloucester, and her dimensions matched those of Penelope to a T. Windhover disappears end of June in calm weather (so the report said). Penelope appears, having been allegedly built in same port, in Wellfleet two
months later.
The Windhover was a noncommercial vessel engaged for a the purpose of
"archaeological salvage" (this phrase directly from the
report). I remembered now Ruggles's comment as shown on the
Penelope's documentation certificate, that she was also
noncommercial. Most of all, her home port stuck out: Gloucester.
Penelope had allegedly
just been built by Mr. Daniel Murdock of Gloucester. But Sonny
Pappas, who'd repaired her, said she wasn't new. I felt little bells
tinkling in the back of the gray matter.
The Windhover's owner was a man named Walter Kincaid, of Manchester-by-the-Sea, a
posh town just south of Gloucester. I left the Coast Guard and
started up toward Beacon Hill with the name ringing in my head.
Walter Kincaid. Walter Kincaid. Where had I heard that? I was
standing on the corner opposite the Saltonstall Building on Cambridge
Street when it came to me: Wallace Kinchloe. Wallace Kinchloe was the
owner of the Penelope .
Walter Kincaid—Wallace Kinchloe.
I trudged up the hill. The chimes at the Park Street
Church boomed ten o'clock. I had a fifteen minute walk to Copley
Square and the Boston Public Library. I crossed over Beacon Hill,
just skirting the State House and dodging piles of dog shit that
littered the old cobblestone sidewalks. On the average day in Boston
you will smell four things, this being one of them. The other three
odors are Italian cooking, garbage, and the Bay if the wind is right.
I crossed the Boston Common, and made my way through clots of winos,
dopers, religious fanatics, street jugglers, street musicians, thugs,
pushers, and street crazies, to Boylston Street, where I turned right
and headed up to Copley Square.
Once inside the library I made my way to the
periodical room and scanned a series of microfilms of the Boston
Globe. I asked for the last week in June and the first week in July.
It wasn't long before I found the account of the missing boat. This
is what I read:
Windhover Still Missing
GL0UCESTER—The research vessel Windhover ,
owned and operated by Walter Kincaid of Manchester, is still reported
as missing. by the Coast Guard. The Windhover set out from Gloucester June 25, and has not been heard from or seen
since. Mr. Kincaid, a retired businessman who founded the Wheel-Lock
Corporation of Melrose, used the vessel for exploring various
archaeological expeditions along the New England coast.
According to his wife, Laura, Kincaid was
headed to Provincetown as a first stop in an expedition that would
take the Windhover down the outer Cape coast to the islands.
The disappearance of the boat is all the
more baffling to the Coast Guard because of the mild weather
recently, and accompanying calm seas.
But what was really interesting was the photograph
that went along with the aiticle. This was what I had been seeking.
The Windhover looked
familiar. Of course this wasn't surprising considering that she was a
converted commercial fishing boat. Draggers, trawlers, and lobster
boats look a lot alike. So in fact, do pleasure boats. Yet there was
a certain lilt of the gunwale line, a rise and sheer of her stem
particularly, that struck a familiar chord. I shunted the photograph
around in the microfilm viewer machine with the knots on its sides. I
read the credit on the photo's bottom: Globe Photo by Peter Scimone.
OK, I'd call him and get a print. I returned the
microfilm and on the way back down Boylston Street stopped at the
Boylston Street Union for a run and a sauna bath. I ran five miles
around the gym floor; there is no track at the Boston YMCU. There is
no pool there either. In fact there isn't anything except an old
four-story stone building that's loaded
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