One afternoon while we were painting, Father called us together for a crew talk. We had a lot of them lately. “Boys,” he started, “what time have we been coming down here each morning to paint the boat?” “Seven o’clock,” Colin and I answered. “Is the canal busy when we get here?” “Yes, Father, it’s very busy.” “Did you know it’s busy because everyone is here three hours before we arrive?” Three hours before we arrive, I thought. How could that be? “Father,” I said. “That would mean they start work at four o’clock in the morning. No one works that early…do they?” “No,” Father said, “they don’t. They start even earlier, at three o’clock when they get out of bed to groom the mules, prepare the boat and eat breakfast.” I didn’t know whose mouth dropped open wider, Colin’s or mine. Then came more surprising news. “We will be traveling on the canal six days a week, from four o’clock in the morning to ten o’clock at night. That’s when the canal is open for business, and that’s when we will be on it. We won’t be working on Sundays; it’s a day of rest and the canal is closed.” If Colin had been wearing shoes, I think he would have jumped right out of them. “Father, that means we get only five hours of sleep each night,” he said. “I don’t know if I can do that.” I hoped Colin’s mild protest would change Father’s mind, but it didn’t. “I know this will be hard, but all of us will get used to it,” Father said. “There are hundreds of other boat families who do this. We can do it, too. “We start our new sleep schedule tonight. Tomorrow morning we’ll wake up at three o’clock and practice our jobs at the boat. Colin, you’ll bring Conan and Rogan along. We leave on our trip
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