A Ship's Tale (32 page)

“
I'd love the story and the stories
,” was the immediate reply, “
but I don't know how much I can give you in return. I have good contacts in a good many places, particularly with the police and Whitehall, but I must be wary of losing their trust. I can possibly hear things through other people, that is, ask another reporter what he's found out behind the scenes and then use it while trying to avoid putting him in a spot. If the informant believes that any information given to me is being used for the wrong purposes, things could get sticky. The best I can do at the moment is to promise that you'll know any official announcement before any member of the public. And that when another reporter gives me permission to disclose what he's told me, you'll get it first, and of course if a politician or civil servant says I can use it, again, you'll be the first to know
.”

“Thank you for your honest reply,” I said gratefully. “We're going a bit crazy for authentic news out of Whitehall. Martin has told us about the police visit and what happened to the tug. Sorry about that, because I'm certain it wasn't a very comfortable situation, but we felt that there were only slim chances of an accident. By the way, you really hadn't entered into our calculations as to what would happen after we cut loose. I must say, I only remember you flying along the dock and the photographer occasionally taking pictures, over.”

“
It's all part of the job, so don't worry
,” Richard replied. “
Most of the while I was so ill, I had no interest in anything! I was seasick starting from the dockside and curled up out of sight with my head on the gunnel. I finally got used to the boat by the next morning when we returned. Plus, of course, there didn't seem to be much of a story in the scuttling and I didn't really realise who you all were. No excuse really. I should have asked even if I knew, but the seasickness stopped that
.”

“Well I shan't describe present conditions to you, then.” I laughed. “But where was I? Oh, yes, so we don't know what's happened in Whitehall, but we surmise they must have heard of the
Bonnie
's escape somewhere about two or three yesterday afternoon. That's nearly twenty-four hours ago. Anything you know?”

“
I've no trouble telling you all I know on that score because it's general knowledge in Fleet Street, and it just shows you how stupid grown men can get when they have to admit that someone has outsmarted them
,” said Richard. “
My contact in Whitehall is a middle-ranking man, kept down by the lesser men above him. He's quite cynical about what they get up to, and apart from giving away state secrets, he usually provides me with the background on anything that happens. I met him yesterday evening after I got back from my…er…holiday and I had had a good bath and a stiff drink! He was very informative
!”

Richard continued, “
The first that the department knew anything of this was when their two men, the two on the tug, didn't return the night before. The duty driver had phoned in late complaining about being kept waiting and was told to find himself somewhere to sleep for the night. This was duly logged for the head of the department and was on his desk when he got in next morning. Poor man, quite spoilt his coco that did—something real to worry about! The next development was the arrival of a pair of distinctly grubby junior officers who, so my man tells me, could be heard shouting something in the head's office—which is never done in such a place—that it was piracy and the pirates should hang. These two unfortunates were told to go away and get cleaned up. I expect they'll be licking envelopes for some time as punishment for letting you escape! My man said you'd set them a tricky problem. If they let you get away with it, without protesting or attempting to go after you, they felt that in the future someone would go right ahead and take something really valuable, and then justify it by the lack of action in this case. Of course the present case is a matter of losing something which they themselves had shown they considered valueless—an old derelict ship which they were prepared to scuttle. Why, it was enough to make all the Chancery lawyers rich for life. It was quickly decided that some action was needed. They didn't want dirty washing showing in public, so I'll have to be careful how I write my piece
.”

“But what action?” I asked uneasily.

“
The department controls most of what the Navy does, and there are various admirals sitting around giving advice. One of them couldn't believe that they needed to do anything at all. He also said, ‘You should have listened to them in the first place, shouldn't you?' The admiral suggested that he and my contact form a committee of two to decide on the action to be taken as part of the normal routine of the department. Within seconds they were on their own! Twits do tend to do their worst in pairs, you know.

“
First they got the admiral's aide, a smart lieutenant, on the phone to the Gravesend tug depot, and he very soon found the captain. He heard all about your iniquities, especially about a certain magnet, which was blamed for the captain not knowing accurately your last position. When he last saw you, you were headed due east.

“
As there were still a couple of hours of light, they decided to send out an old Fleet Air Arm spotter plane based near Clacton. The pilot must have been dying of boredom and inaction, because he was back on the phone within three hours. Having flown out to the area, he carried on due east for a time, and then flew one square of a grid to cover all four compass points. He had seen two sailing ships. It was the one farthest east that seemed to fit the description best, and he reported her position and heading. The admiral seemed to know the disposition of every ship in the Navy, and eventually decided to send out a Motor Torpedo Boat at first light this morning to begin searching.
”

Richard's next words only added cream to the cake. “
From what I know of MTBs they're very fast, but they burn petrol quickly so their range is limited
.”

Bowman now thought he should say a few words to Richard and asked me for the handset. “Mr. Clark,” he started, “My name is Bowman, captain of this ship. I'm overseeing most everything here. I would just like to say that we appreciate, more than words could tell, the time and trouble ye've taken to tell us what ye know. This is of great value to us in our journey. Once again, thank you.” He gave the handset back to me and made his way out to his cabin.

Richard answered, “
It's I who should thank you, because your story has everything: a sailing ship, a group of real sailors, a group of young boys with whom all the boys in Britain can identify, and a solitary lady, if my guess is correct
.”

“You're quite correct on the last,” I said, “and you might say we're taking a long route to Gretna Green (a place on the border between England and Scotland, where eloping couples can get married without licence or parental permission).”

This first session Richard and I had was principally about the project, how we'd planned it, a small bit about who had put up what, details about the ship, and a good deal more, but eventually I had to call a halt.

“I'm sorry, Richard, but this blow seems to be getting much stronger and every hand is needed. I'll have to sign off for now.
Bonnie Clyde
, out.”

“
Goodbye for now and I hope you all stay safe
,” Richard called finally. I heard Martin echoing this in the background.

Edward had been in the room all the while. He was never a great talker, but now spoke up, “We'd better keep an eye on old Billy there. He doesn't look right.”

A few days ago, I'd witnessed Bowman having some sort of attack, but he'd certainly seemed fit enough since then.

Edward carried on, “He'll never say anything, but I can see it in his step. He's careful not to walk too hard, and he keeps to his cabin most of the time. The Billy of just a few months ago would never do that—he'd be halfway up the rigging shouting orders. I don't think he's on his last knockings, but it's a worry.”

The old man sighed gloomily. I thought about their years together as shipmates and how much these two had been through. But Edward shook it off, “Mustn't borrow trouble. Whatever will happen, will happen. There's another thing, youngster. You can be after telling Boris and Harris not to bother about wearing ship at the moment. By tomorrow morning, we'll be sailing in sunshine under blue skies. Within twenty-four hours after that, we'll be hit by a granddaddy of a storm, coming in from the west. See here,” as he pointed to the barometer on its gimballed support, “the pressure's too high to support a storm. What we're getting now is the result of the edges of two pressure systems meeting each other, the high from northern Europe and the low from the Atlantic. I've always had an interest in the weather and like to keep up with the latest thinking on it. British weather has ever been the great joke.”

Edward beckoned me to the chart table. “This is a map I managed to
win
from the weather office in Chatham Naval Dockyard. One day, it'll have to come that every ship will be able to produce one of these every day on board ship, using information coming in from all the weather stations in Europe.” Seeing my perplexed look, he said, “All right, lesson's over. Just go out and tell them what to expect.”

I was certainly mystified by Edward asking me to go to Harris at the helm and explain something I hardly understood myself, and, as I expected, he curtly dismissed my comments.

“Edward's had these notions for years and he's right as many times as we are. We'll continue to secure everything, but leave the galley fire until the corkscrewing gets too much!” I recounted what Richard told me. Harris replied, “An MTB eh? Well, he's not going to be out in stuff like this!”

The reefing had been completed while I was talking on the radio, but we seemed to fly over the waves, even with reduced sail. During the next few hours, the wind roared through the rigging and the rain squalls raced over the sea, pouring down so hard that we couldn't see ten yards ahead. As it grew dark, the force of the wind began to subside and the seas started to lessen. By midnight the storm had died down enough so that one watch could stand down. Under less sail we were making about eight or nine knots. It was decided that a change in course could wait until morning. The helmsman was Larry. He was told to steer as close as he could to the south-west. This would help make sailing into the west easier when we changed course the next morning. It was Larry's first solo chance at the wheel and he was holding up well.

Once I felt I wasn't needed on deck for a while, I went down to the galley and found a none-too-happy Katherine. The dinner she was trying to prepare had been repeatedly upset, and her galley helpers were having to re-wash the meat and vegetables before trying again. She was upset that I hadn't come down earlier. I explained that this was the first chance I had now that the storm was dying down. She didn't seem very excited about that and was just generally unhappy at seeing her work spoilt so.

“Next time you're making course changes you should be warning me. You wouldn't believe the mess we had to clean up,” she pouted. Despite the boys working nearby, I caught hold of her hands and pulled her to me.

“Well, I'm here now and I'll do whatever you want just to be helpful. I know these storms can be unsettling,” and I gripped the table edge to stop us falling. “They can be frightening too, but this old lady was built truly. She still has a sound hull and masts, so we'll come through it all right. Trust me!”

There was still some food on the table, so I sat down and helped myself to a quick bite. I laid hold of a pot that still held some tea. This was more to my liking than Harris's early-morning coffee. Katherine started removing other plates from the table.

“Hungry and tired, are you?” she said more gently.

“Yes,” I said, holding my chin up with both hands. “I'm afraid I used up more energy on our first night at sea than I had ashore in some time. I believe I'll pass out right here,” and I put my head down on the table.

“Oh no, you don't!” she cried, pulling the back of my collar. “I have a good many things to accomplish this hour.”

“Very well,” I said. Dragging myself to my feet, I staggered off down the passageway to my cabin. I had just stepped into my compartment when the door opened behind me. I turned round and saw that Katherine had joined me.

“Hello,” I said. “I thought you were preparing something in the galley.”

“It needs to boil more thoroughly,” she said. “By the way, I get the feeling that it's always me who initiates our little interludes.” She fixed me with an accusing look.

“Oh my, I am sorry. Please forgive this walking cadaver,” I said. With that, I folded her in my arms. We fell back onto the bunk, trying not to get thrown to the floor as we undressed.

I whispered, “Who up top would guess what's going on below?” The wind was tearing about the ship with the shrill yelling of lads heaving lines, making our little nest seem all the cosier. Of course we both held very special memories of the sounds of a storm…

Some time later as I lay stroking those rich chestnut locks, Katherine suddenly giggled. “You know, you're not too awful for a dead man!”

I said, “Just you wait. One day we'll have time when both of us are fresh.” She stood up, and untangling her clothing from mine, started to tell me about her day. At some point in the conversation, my eyes rolled back in my head and I fell off to sleep, never seeing or hearing when she went out. I was rocked soundly by the motion of the ship, and didn't wake until the sun had made its appearance on the horizon.

When I showed up in the galley later and found Katherine alone, she greeted me with a dazzling smile. I began to nibble at her ear, but she started giggling uncontrollably and couldn't hold still. I asked her what the great joke was. At first she said it was nothing, not really all that funny, but then told me Harris had come down looking for me. She had told him I had died off an hour before, which set us both laughing. He asked for a mug of coffee and she then set down a cup and poured Harris a coffee, asking if he'd take anything with that.