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“Screw my guess, Bo. They’re all large, right?” he asked.
I nodded in agreement.
“That’s two-hundred and forty dollars, Bo.” He looked in the distance, I assumed searching for the other buoys. “You can make a lot of money doing this,” he whispered, leaning forward like he didn’t want the news to get out to the competition.
“I know that, baby. This is my job.”
Looking at his face as he did the mental math while bells started ringing in his head, was like watching one of the investors on Shark Tank. “Who buys them?” he asked.
“A local restaurant. A good friend of mine.”
“And you sell them directly to him? Straight from the ocean? No middle man?” he asked, his questions reaching a staccato.
“Slow down, Hayes,” I said. “You’re going to need to introduce me to this new guy you’re becoming,” I added, motioning to him. “You look like a fox that was left unattended in the chicken coop right now.”
“How many lobsters do you catch a day on average?” he inquired.
“Twenty to forty,” I answered. “So just say thirty.”
“Five days a week?” he asked.
“I only need to work twice a week to live comfortably.”
“Okay, I hear you, so using your numbers you can earn twelve-hundred dollars a week selling sixty lobsters that you get for free?” he asked. “Less your time, fuel, bait, and the occasional tool replacement. Is that correct?”
I nodded.
“That is a decent amount of money for two days a week, Bo.
“Slow down, Bezos. I save half of that toward a new and larger boat.”
“So, to be clear. You can make six hundred bucks a week and save the same amount every week too?” he verified.
“Yeah, that’s around the total,” he agreed. “But remember that I can’t do this job every week of the year. There are down times.”
“You’re brilliant, Bo. Amazing really. I am so proud of you right now,” he effused. “The potential for what you’ve created for yourself is limitless.”
I stared at him like he’d grown a third eye. “What did you say you did for work?” I asked.
“Never mind, handsome.” he said, pointing at the trap in the boat and then the ocean. “Drop that fucker back in the water. We’ve got six more traps to check.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: Hayes
When we’d finished checking all of Bo’s traps, we ended up keeping forty-two lobsters and threw a dozen back. He refused to keep any that weren’t big enough even though I’d seen far smaller available at many fine restaurants in Charleston. He liked letting them have the chance to mature and knew some would be there for future catches.
We rode past the shack and headed straight into Beaufort to sell the catch. Bo was letting me experience his entire day. He explained the importance of fast delivery so the restaurants could advertise the daily catch was locally sourced and provided the freshest fish that were caught that day. A marketing plan was already rattling around in my mind.
Despite what my fellow rich gay boys said about Beaufort, I found the small town to have a rustic historic beauty that was charming. The docks were lined with old, distressed, buildings, and processing warehouses that took advantage of the ocean’s bounty. A few restaurants lined the nicer piers where fancier boats were moored. It was a typical harbor with a quaint village vibe.
“You sell the entire catch to one place?” I asked. Bo nodded. “You don’t check who might pay more?”
“I trust my relationship with the chef at Crab King,” he answered. “He keeps his word and I keep mine,” he added.
I already knew about Bo’s old fashioned and humble qualities. I was drawn to that attribute and respected him for having a moral sensibility. He was no-nonsense and direct. Two things one didn’t encounter in the bigger cities or the financial market world that I was born in.
Both of us pulled tank tops over our heads and carried the cooler toward the end of the dock where the street and buildings were located. The pier jutted out the length of a football field over the water, making carrying the ice chest full of lobster a real struggle considering the weather was so damn hot and humid during June.
“I must look awful,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow. “I hope we don’t see any of your friends,” I added, afraid to embarrass him.
