First day of crab fishing at sea.
Harvest: 120 tons of Gray-eyed Snow Crab.
This year, the rising water temperatures in the Bering Sea led to a massive die-off of snow crabs. Combined with the approach of Thanksgiving, the purchase price for snow crabs had shot up to 14 US Dollars a pound before they set sail. As a result, this catch was worth around 3.6 million US Dollars.
After deducting crew salaries, the River Beach’s fuel consumption, taxes, and other expenses, the owner, Feng Mountain, profited around 1.6 million.
A gross profit of over 3.6 million US Dollars from a single day of crab fishing.
To Alvin and the crew, it was an unbelievable feeling, like a dream co true.
Alvin had once earned 1.5 million in two weeks, but that was gross revenue before deducting expenses. The boss, on the other hand, had made a pure profit, and the shock of it was indescribable.
Standing before the door to the blast freezer, he gazed at the boxes of snow crabs, his eyes shining with excitent.
It was also the first ti the crew had tasted such a handso reward, and blissful smiles spread across everyone’s faces.
In that mont, all their fatigue and hardship seed insignificant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of accomplishnt.
It felt like they had been walking in darkness for a long ti and had suddenly seen a brilliant ray of dawn.
Excitent spread through their hearts like a burning fla, making their blood boil.
Unfortunately, even with the entire crew working around the clock, they could only manage to deploy the crab traps three tis a day.
This limit seed like a frustrating restriction, adding a touch of regret to the crew’s joy over their massive profits.
The thought of such huge profits, yet being unable to fully capitalize on them due to ti constraints, was truly frustrating.
In the River Beach’s ss hall.
"Boss, I think you should buy those crabbing boats Eugene ntioned," Alvin said with great seriousness, having sought out Feng Mountain, who was currently enjoying so snow crab.
"Oh, you think so too?" Feng Mountain set down a crab leg, a cryptic smile in his eyes. "Blind expansion isn’t a good thing. Besides, those crabbing boats are still in the shipyard. Only the basic outfitting is done. It’ll be a while before they’re fully built."
"Right now, the top priority is ensuring the River Beach can maintain this level of high efficiency and profit."
"Captain, on the contrary, I feel like your crew is getting a little full of themselves!"
"I hope you understand. I have the boat. I can have the crew, or I can not have the crew. Do you get ?"
Feng Mountain had his reasons for saying this.
Ever since they had achieved the massive haul from three full pots a day, an overblown, blind confidence had spread throughout the ship.
As a result, so had beco restless, believing the success was due to the hard work of the captain and crew, and that perhaps they could get a bigger cut.
This was discussed behind Feng Mountain’s back, but that didn’t an he was unaware.
If so much as an ant crawled onto this ship, Feng Mountain would know if it was male or female.
Of course, they had indeed put in a great deal of hard labor for this massive harvest.
But the decisive factor was the Totem Wooden Statue. Without the Totem Wooden Statue, there would be nothing. And he had already paid them a bonus they couldn’t have even imagined.
But so people are never satisfied, like a snake trying to swallow an elephant.
’Of course, I can’t stop them from thinking this way, but I can put the screws to Alvin.’
’After all, crew mbers are replaceable, but a qualified and responsible captain is hard to find.’
Hearing Feng Mountain’s warning, Alvin, who had just been excited, felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water from the Bering Sea had been dumped over his head.
His muddled head cleared instantly.
That’s right. He was just the captain, and the man before him was the true master of the River Beach.
"B-Boss, I’m sorry. I just got a little too excited!"
Feng Mountain stood up and lightly patted the terrified Alvin’s shoulder. "It’s fine. I’m happy too. From now on, after each profit share-out, you’ll receive 10% of the earnings as a bonus. And one more thing: no matter what, you need to clearly see the force behind this great harvest."
With that, Feng Mountain picked up a napkin, wiped his mouth, and walked toward the captain’s lounge with his hands behind his back.
Alvin frowned. He wasn’t happy about the unexpected 10% bonus; instead, he pondered the aning of his boss’s final words.
’The force behind this great harvest.’
He racked his brain but couldn’t figure out what his boss ant by that last sentence.
But he understood the warning in his boss’s words.
’There must be a problem among the crew.’
’Did they get greedy after seeing the huge catch and want a piece of the action?’
The thought flashed through his mind.
Demanding more money on the spot was a frequent occurrence on crabbing boats. It was common for crew mbers to see a bountiful catch and then ask for a bigger payout.
Especially during the chaotic period twenty years ago, it wasn’t uncommon for captains and crews to even get into gunfights over profits.
Recalling these past incidents put Alvin on high alert.
He understood that he had to take decisive action now to prevent the situation from deteriorating further.
He thought of Justice in the public security office—that was the consequence of opposing the boss.
A cold sweat instantly broke out on Alvin’s back.
’These bastards are trying to get killed.’
As a crabbing boat captain, he knew there were many ways to control a crab fisherman’s loyalty. One was to use their salary to keep them in a strange cycle: their only goal was to get off the boat at the end of the season, and as soon as they’d spent all their money, they’d be back at the starting line.
Alvin imdiately summoned the heads of each section, his expression grave, and issued them a warning along with a set of new temporary regulations.
The section heads understood the gravity of the situation and each promised to manage their crews properly.
The crew mbers’ reactions to this varied.
So grew anxious, afraid their secret thoughts had been discovered. Others cursed out the greedy trash. And so just worked in silence, not getting involved at all.
Ultimately, no one was willing to lose such a high-paying job over so foolish greed.
Lying in the captain’s lounge, Feng Mountain pictured the situation in the ship’s compartnts and was satisfied with how Alvin had handled it.
...
The Bering Sea crab fishing season begins in October each year. The weather during this season is extrely cold, with frequent storms from the Arctic Circle and ferocious waves.
Even for veteran fishern on an advanced crabbing boat like the River Beach, the constant rocking was extrely uncomfortable.
It was impossible to sleep on the crabbing boat. The waves were too violent, shaking the hull back and forth so much that no one could lie down properly.
Furthermore, every minute at sea was spent in a state of high danger.
Crab fishern often work 21 hours a day, sotis even around the clock without a break.
As a result, during the crab fishing season, one crab fisherman dies every seven days on average in the Bering Strait. The occupational fatality rate is 50 tis that of an ordinary worker.
Of course, with high risk ca high reward.
After a short, three-hour break, in the early hours of the morning, the River Beach’s lighting system was turned on full blast. The entire vessel lit up the dark sea like a brilliant pearl, its intense lights piercing the night.
The crew, energized and excited, put on their waterproof gear and returned to their posts.
On deck, the crew operated the electromagnetic crane, dropping the crab traps, now filled with bait bags, into the churning sea.
One every 122 ters. After all 200 crab traps were deployed, the River Beach had to turn around and return to the location of the first trap to begin hauling them in.
That night, a storm swept over the Bering Sea. The temperature dropped, and massive waves over ten ters high slamd against the deck, tossing the River Beach about uncontrollably. Any seawater that splashed onto the boat froze within monts.
Although the Totem Wooden Statue replenished the crew’s physical stamina, the combination of extre ntal fatigue and the frigid seawater caused their reactions to gradually slow.
Thankfully, they had safety lines as a final protective asure. Otherwise, a single massive wave washing over the River Beach could easily have claid a crew mber.
The chances of survival after falling into the icy Bering Sea were practically zero.
"Shouldn’t we let them rest a bit longer?" Feng Mountain asked, looking at the crew working desperately on deck.
Alvin shook his head and clenched his fists. "Only ruthless n survive the Evil Sea. If you want to be a crab fisherman, your starting point is always money, and your finish line is often death."
"The Northwest set the legendary record of catching 276 tons in seven days, but we caught 120 tons in just one day! The River Beach will beco the new legend."
"We’re not here to have fun. We’re here to make money and break legends."
With that, Alvin grabbed the intercom and shouted.
His voice, filled with passion and power, echoed throughout the River Beach.
"Alright, n! Yesterday’s 120 tons of snow crab isn’t the end! We’re going to break the Northwest’s record! We will beco a legend, a part of the legendary River Beach! Let’s do it!"
As his words blasted over the River Beach’s internal and external speakers, the crew beca fired up as if they’d been shot with adrenaline. A fighting spirit ignited in their eyes, and the passion in their hearts was instantly set ablaze.
Their bodies, which had been growing sluggish, now seed to be filled with boundless energy, becoming nimble and powerful once more.
’Alright then!’
’When it cos to riling people up, Alvin seems to be better at it than I am.’
Feng Mountain wisely kept his mouth shut and stepped aside to watch the show.
Seven hours passed in a race against ti.
The crew once again ran out the hooks and pulled up a crab trap. As expected, it was another pot filled to bursting.
The crab trap was packed with snow crabs, and even more crabs were clinging to the outside of the pot, refusing to let go with their claws even as they were dragged out of the water.
Although the crew had already witnessed this scene three tis, it was still an absolutely stunning sight every single ti.
"Stop gawking! Sort them, quick! The bastards below are gonna start cussing us out again," shouted the first crewman to snap out of it, using the electromagnetic crane to place the crab trap on the sorting table.
"Let ’em cuss! If getting cussed out earns Franklins, I’d rather be cussed out every day!"
The other crewn opened the crab trap, and with a RUSH, the Gray-eyed Snow Crabs inside poured out onto the sorting table.
A massive crab with a purplish-brown carapace appeared before the crew. Its carapace was over 20 centiters wide, and its three pairs of extra-long walking legs were almost as thick as pipes.
"What a huge Emperor Crab!" A crewman pinned down the fleeing Emperor Crab and held it up to his face to compare its size.
Another crewman, busy sorting the Gray-eyed Snow Crabs, glanced up and said regretfully, "We don’t have a quota for Emperor Crab. Otherwise, that one alone would sell for at least 500 bucks."
bucks, gone!
The crewman who caught it felt a real pang of regret, but the regulations set by the Fish and Ga Departnt were clear. He was about to toss the Emperor Crab back into the sea.
"Wait! Put it aside for the boss to try." A quick-witted crewman stopped his companion. "The Fish and Ga Departnt only regulates the catch quota; they didn’t say you can’t eat what you catch."
This suggestion imdiately won the approval of the other crewn.
Soon, a separate crab crate was filled with all sorts of specialties from the Bering Sea.
"That’s right! This is from our hauling team. It’s got nothing to do with the other sections!"
"I’ve got a codfish over here."
"I’ve got a tiger crab and a brown crab here."
anwhile, the River Beach’s cryogenic blast freezer was visibly filling up with one crab crate after another.
It was only the second day.
Two-fifths of the freezer space was already gone. At this rate, they would be able to return to port in just three more days.
And Feng Mountain was lying in the captain’s lounge, eyes closed, feeling the steady stream of Soul Power flowing out from the freezer. It was being collected by the Totem Wooden Statue and transported to the Crown Territory, thousands of miles away.
’This feeling of collecting Soul Power and making money just by lying here...’
’It’s just delightful!’
...
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