Recherche dans la collection - George and Francis, north shore, Prince Edward Island

We had just cast off from port, and I went down below to use the bathroom. I swung open the door and there was Francis, hauling a bottle of whiskey out of the toilet tank. He winked. "George and I are not here for the fishing." George is a wrinkled neighbour who has worked too much and drunk too hard in his life. He can speak paragraphs entirely by swearing, linked by the preposition of surprise. He dislikes everything in a good-natured way, but he likes Francis. They hang out all day like trouble-makers at the back of grade-school class. And there - under the gunwhales, deep in the nets - are the back-up bottles.