“Amen,” I said when he lifted his head and looked across the table with a smile.

“This is the nicest meal I’ve sat down to in quite a while. Thanks, Kennesaw,” he said.

“Thanks for the company, amigo. Now dig in,” I rejoined.

We ate in contented silence. And when Parker’s plate ran low, he offered no resistance when I filled it again. I realized as I watched him put away the food that it had probably been a while since he’d had a really filling meal. I had a thought.

“Parker,” I said when the dishes were washed and put away, and we had settled down with a glass of port. “What kind of engineer were you? I mean, what was your specialty?”

“Oh,” he said after taking a sip of the port and nodding his approval. “I was a mechanical and electrical engineer. I was also a metallurgist—I say was, but I guess I still am. I just haven’t had cause to work in the field in some time.”

“Well, what I mean is—were you a theorist, a planner—or were you a hands-on type?” I inquired.

“Ultimately I was a designer. But I am also a first-rate machinist; the dirty hands aspect of engineering is something I’ve always enjoyed.”

“I guess that’s what I was getting at,” I admitted. “I have a reason for asking,” I continued. “There are some things I want done on my boat and I just don’t have the time right now—that, and some of it is beyond my capability.”

Parker sat forward in his chair. I saw that I had his interest.

“Some of it is pretty simple. The main engine and transmission need servicing. You know, fluids, filters, and such. The hydraulics could stand a very thorough going-over. I also want to replace all the old belts and hoses with new rubber. But the main project I want done is an upgrade of the electrical system. I’d like to couple a wing generator to the main engine for use while under way, and I also want to increase the capacity of the battery bank—so that when at anchor I can power the air conditioner and the lights, and run the radios and radar without having to fire up the generator. Additionally, I want to extend the roof of the pilothouse so that it covers the aft deck—and that would require a fair amount of metal fabrication and welding. Could you do those things?”

Parker rubbed his chin as he thought. “It sounds like you’re contemplating a long trip,” he said with a smile.

“I’m always contemplating a long trip,” I responded. “But would you do it? Would you do the work for me?”

“It’s all rather routine. Just a matter of attention to detail,” he said, more to himself than to me.