A Ship's Tale (40 page)

“Just what prompted that?” I asked.

She laughed, “Well, he was remarking about the pies and wondered if we did the baking ourselves. I told him yes, it was all made fresh here and so we used no preservatives. He then made the most outrageous remark about us making good babies together or some such. And that's when I slapped him. It wasn't until much later I learnt that the Russian word
preservative
translates into English as, well, French letters [condoms].” She giggled at the memory.

“I didn't know that,” and I managed to laugh. “You never told me.”

“Well it was quite embarrassing, you know. I don't think I ever apologised to him,” she said.

“He did mention something about a misunderstanding, but he never did say what it was. When he returned to the table, he said, ‘She likes me.'”

Katherine's eyes twinkled. “Is that a fact?”

“Oh yes, and Edward, never one to miss a quip, told him that that much was obvious.” We both laughed briefly, trying our best to ignore the storm while holding on to the railing in her cabin.

“You know, it's a pity. Boris is soaked up on deck, you're soaked down here, and here I am wrapped up, freezing and getting bounced off the walls.”

“That's a bulkhead,” I said, pointing to the “wall.”

“Whatever you call it,” she said, “it's just as hard when you hit it.”

It wasn't until my eyes were beginning to roll back in my head that I realized, if I didn't get up soon, I never would. I had visions of an angry Harris coming in search of me. I looked down for my pocket watch, and then remembered I didn't have it.

“How long I been sitting here?” I asked. I told her Harris had given me a fifteen-minute break.

“How benevolent of him,” she remarked dryly. “Only fifteen minutes? That's positively inhumane of himself.” She asked, “Could you use another hand up there? All I've been doing down here is tending to seasick boys and being thrown about.”

“Thanks for the offer,” I said, “but you'd be thrown about even more so on deck, and conditions above are quite treacherous. What you could do is try and work out how to boil water without setting us on fire. A hot drink is what we all need. But now I really must get back.”

As I was leaving, the ship gave a tremendous roll, first landing Katherine in a heap next to the bulkhead and then flinging me across the passageway as it rolled in the opposite direction.

“Do be careful, Flynn,” she cried, giving me a long-armed embrace. “That's all the hug I'm giving while you're soaking wet.”

I made my way back to the deck. Stopping at the coal-burning stove I cautiously opened it up and had a look inside. There were still some slight embers burning in it, so I reached into the bin and put two more large chunks of coal inside, briefly enjoying the warmth around my hands.

I climbed the pitching companion, and slid back the hatch over my head to reveal the powerful storm at its best. The cold winds actually did a good part in reviving me.

As quickly as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed that there were now three people at the double wheel keeping the ship steady and on course. Upon seeing me, Harris called for me to go forward and help Boris. I nodded my head to avoid having to yell against the force of the wind. Grabbing hold of one of the safety lines that ran the length of the deck, I began moving forward. To my surprise I met Bowman, who was having difficulty keeping his balance. He had just fallen, so I helped him up, and together we started back aft to the companion. I slid the hatchway open and went down below with him to make sure he was all right. He made no resistance as I helped him to the easy chair in his cabin, and he fell heavily into it. I don't know what he'd been doing on deck in this weather, but he'd obviously done too much.

“I'm all right. The old ticker isn't what it once was, that's all!” He reached into the pocket of his storm coat. Pulling out a flask, he took a sip and passed it to me.

I had a nice long pull of the single malt whisky. “I certainly could have used this an hour ago.”

“Take that along wi' ye. Before this night's out ye'll need it.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“I'll be just fine. I just need a wee bit of a rest,” he said.

“No,” I protested, “you keep this with you.”

“Nay, nay. There's plenty more of this down here if I should find need.” He insisted, pushing the flask back in my direction. “They need ye on deck. Go on then, I'll be fine.” He settled himself deeply into the chair and closed his eyes, despite the violent rocking and shaking of the ship. Without further discussion I climbed back up the ladder and secured the hatch.

Back on the storm-tossed deck I again reached for the safety lines and started forward. Halfway along the deck, I met some of the boys and several of us were caught in waves breaking over the ship. For a moment, the group wasn't able to make any headway. I mustered up all the strength I had, “Right now lads, let's go. Move! Move! Let's go!” I shouted.

Slowly but steadily, we reached the seconded set safety lines and carried on. Looking up in the darkness, I watched the sails as the wind filled them, but could not see very much activity on the masts.

Suddenly Boris appeared out of nowhere, as was usually the case.

“Where is Bowman?” he asked.

“I helped him below, he's not feeling well,” I told him. He nodded his head and reached into his pocket, producing the bo'sun's pipe. “Okay, Boris knows what to do.”

“I have no doubt,” I replied. “What do you need?”

“Nothing yet, everything is good. Twenty minutes more and we turn yards—use this,” he said, pointing at the giant mechanical winch.

“But we've never used one of these before!” I exclaimed. Boris gave his trademark laugh. “Then we all learn together!”

“You mean you never have either?” I asked, taken aback. “That doesn't exactly inspire confidence!”

But my words were lost in the wind, and Boris was already into his next project. I didn't realise till later that he was trying to be funny as usual. Just another joke at my expense. He knew well that connecting the drive chain from the mast to the pump motor would turn the winch, which I noticed was now secured to the deck properly.

Our preparations had been thorough enough that now the boys were able to get some rest off watch. I checked the forward area and started aft towards the helm. Harris and Robert were struggling with the double wheel trying to use the foot break as the ship was exposed at the top of each mountainous wave. With her rudder half free of the water, it was being pushed by the wind and waves which made controlling the helm even harder.

“Everything okay?” I yelled to Harris.

“Just lovely, can't you tell?” was his retort.

“I just thought you should know I helped Bowman get below. He's not feeling well. Says his ticker is off.”

“He has some pills in his cabin. Go below and see that he takes them,” said Harris.

“Are you suggesting that I give him an order?” I asked.

“No, but if he gives you any trouble, tell him that I am,” he replied.

Before I left, I reached into the pocket of my long coat, and pulled out a flask. “Would you like a drop of this?”

Harris grinned. “Thank you, but I already have one for each pocket.”

Why did this news not surprise me? It seemed to me that everyone was well supplied with this lovely amber nectar.

Once again, I threw back the hatchway and pulled it closed against the sea. Down below I saw that Bowman had moved into the galley and now sat by the little stove, which was doing its best to throw out heat from the coal I'd put in before.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I thought I told ye ye're needed on deck,” he growled, “and don't think I don't know why ye're here. It's that bloody Harris, right? It was he that sent ye down here wasn't it? Those bloody pills!”

“He said if you didn't take them one way that he'd surely give them to you another,” I assured him.

“Those're his words, eh?” he muttered. I offered him my hand to help him from his chair, but he refused. Suddenly, the ship rolled and I almost fell against the hot stove.

“Well then, I'll just have to keep my hands for my own personal use,” I said, reaching for the stanchion. Bowman managed to rise from the chair and carefully extended one of his hands towards mine. Bracing myself, I helped him along.

We started down the passageway for his cabin, when suddenly the door to the chart room burst open and out flew my wheeled office chair, overturning and dumping its occupant unceremoniously into the passage before us. We recognised the figure sprawled on the deck before us as Edward. He got unsteadily to his feet.

“I haven't seen much of you tonight,” I said, trying to hide my amusement.

“I must have fallen asleep in this thing,” he muttered.

“Sleep?” Bowman barked. “What the bloody hell are ye doing sleeping, Ned?”

“Because I'm on the next watch, so blow it out your bagpipes!” he replied indignantly.

Bowman grumbled under his breath, then said, “Do ye have any idea where we are?”

Edward took out his pocket watch, “In a storm as I recall, but I'll need nearly three hours before I try to ascertain our position. In fact,” he said, picking up the chair, “now that I'm awake, I'm going to have some tea,” and he walked unsteadily off to the galley.

Bowman turned and looked at me. “What kind of an idiot goes to sleep in a rolling chair during a storm?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“When you're tired enough, you can sleep anywhere,” I responded.

We continued down the passageway until we reached Bowman's cabin. He went into his drawer and found the bottle of pills. Placing two in his hand, Bowman threw them in to his mouth with a sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if they do anything at all. Lying down for a bit usually helps.” He crawled into his bunk without any further protest.

I started back down the passage and was greeted by the thunder of many feet coming down the ladder. It was the change of the watch, and everyone was pushing down to the galley for tea and bread. Katherine was there to greet them, pouring tea and trying to get the oven lit for loaves of what would soon be fresh baked bread. This seemed overly ambitious given the way the ship was still rolling in the storm, but she seemed determined to get something started.

I joined the group, who were busily exchanging stories of this night. Picking up a mug and a piece of bread, I mostly listened, for I hadn't the energy to carry on much of a conversation. While I'd been below, the mechanical winch, along with a lot of manpower, was able to turn the gigantic yardarms and sails to meet the wind, which had been veering slowly to west-sou'west. It was well over gale force nine, and we were taking it nearly straight on our port side, with the sails as close-hauled as was possible. If we hadn't already reefed in many of the sails, the strain on the masts would almost certainly have been too much. We were still westering on a long diagonal, thanks to the experience and skill of the crew. Our prayers had been answered in that we were still unharmed and not broached to, with broken masts and fallen yards dragging us down slowly but surely beneath the waves. An awful picture, that!

Even in my woollens I was beginning to feel the cold, so I told Katherine that I'd see what change of clothing I could find in my cabin. Harris sat with his feet propped up, tossing more coal into the stove in an effort to take off his chill.

“Where's that Bowman?” he asked, shivering.

“Resting comfortably in his cabin,” I replied. “Who's minding the shop?”

“Robert and two others are on the helm,” he responded dully.

I left him to his coal-pitching and made my way down the passage to my quarters. I slid back the door, found my matches, and lit the kerosene lamp. At that moment, I became aware of the disaster that had befallen me.

Water dripped freely from the deck above onto almost everything in the cabin, pouring through gaps in the caulking, as great waves cascaded over the decks. My duffel bag had absorbed much of the falling water. Even though it was a futile gesture, I pulled it to a place where the water wasn't dripping. I then looked at my bunk, which was completely sodden. I slowly lifted my mattress, hoping against hope that it wasn't soaked completely through. My hopes were dashed, as it was totally beyond salvage. There was only one place left, my old sea chest. I'd paid a lot for it when I became an apprentice, as it was guaranteed to keep out water unless completely immersed for some hours. I looked over where it was tied down, and with a last glimmer of hope, slowly opened it. With great relief, I found that the contents were dry, so I flipped through and retrieved a dry change of clothing. At the foot of the bunk were wool blankets that escaped the leakage. I reached for the pillow, but it too was a soaking great mess. The cabin was completely unusable, and hanging things to dry was unthinkable at the moment. Realizing that this wasn't a suitable place to obtain the rest necessary to sustain me, I blew out the lamp and slid open the door. Slowly I backed out, holding clothes and blankets away from my sodden self. As I closed the door, I jumped as a welcome voice piped up from behind me.

“Hullo, sailor, come here often?” Katherine giggled.

“You startled me,” I said.

“Flynn, you are a sight. Very fetching!” she laughed, looking me over.

“Thank you very much, but I'm in no mood for flattery at the moment. My quarters are flooded, my mattress is sodden, and prospects for sleep are extremely dismal.” I must have looked pathetic, as I tried to keep my aching gear-laden arms clear of all wet surfaces.

“Come over here,” she ordered. “I have to get breakfast on.” She slid open the door to her cabin. “Go in and get some rest, and have that wet clothing off.” As the cabin door was slid shut behind me, I began the task of undressing and hanging my wet things on the hooks on the bulkhead. Throwing my additional blankets onto the bunk, I quickly got beneath the covers. Although the ship was still being tossed about by the storm, I quickly fell unconscious into a blissful sleep. I didn't hear the bo'sun pipe calling all hands when it was time to turn the yardarms.