A Ship's Tale (34 page)

“On this point,” said Harris, pounding the table that held the radio, “I want to make it clear that a lot of the money was given to us by the people at our destination. Robertson's, the Dumbarton builder of this and so many fine sailing ships, made an agreement with us that they'd be happy to give the
Bonnie
Clyde
a permanent home and to keep her as a living museum. They had no knowledge of our actions in fulfilling the agreement. We didn't even discuss it as a
might
.”

“
I understand
,” Richard said, “
and I'll report it like that. I'd like to talk to them anyway. This sounds like a worthwhile scheme, so I'd really like to get their angle. No objections from your side, I'm sure
?”

“None at all,” Harris replied. “Flynn's slip is only life-threatening to himself, but the storm that's brewing up now is a lot more dangerous to all of us. We are now in the English Channel, but as this storm is coming in on a very wide front, no one can guess where we are from what you may write. Our sails are in good order and Boris, our bo'sun, is adept with palm and needle. There's not much more I can tell you tonight, but I'd just like to mention the boys. Most of them are seventeen or older, no one was coerced, and all are having a cracking time. We've been feeding them up from what were surely just survival rations before. Thank goodness they'd at least been getting their free milk, orange juice, and vitamins as issued. I reckon we've as good a crew as any ship. All normal safety precautions on a sailing ship have been taken, fixed lifelines, and the lot. In fact Boris has come up with an idea of his own which will make life aloft much safer.”

Richard came on, “
Do you want to make any comments about the orphanage or the headmaster
?”

“Oh, we'd just love to,” Harris said with relish, “but most of it would be so libellous you wouldn't be able to print it! The only good thing he did, and that unknowingly, was to let us give lessons to the boys in seamanship as part of his Character Building History Class. Anyway, the man is in enough trouble already with the police—you just ask Martin.”

For some time, the noise outside and the pitching of the ship had been increasing. Harris now said, “Richard, I hope you don't feel that we're always trying to get away because of a storm or something, but we're going to have to—”

Richard stopped him short, “
Not one little bit! You've given me plenty here, enough for at least two news pieces and an article. I've got bags of leads, including the builder, who I hope has some pictures from when the
Bonnie Clyde
was first built. Oh, no, I've got plenty and I'm sure this story is going to take wing. Just one more point before you go. I want to have a word with Dick here to try and find another ham closer to my office and home. Coming out here wastes much valuable time, when I could be making sure that the story has all the right ingredients to support the facts. Is that all right with you
?”

“No objections from here,” Harris replied. “We would like you to be sure that this other ham operator is the same sort of person as Dick and not some scared little man running off to the police or another newspaper to line his own pockets.”

Another voice came on very quickly. Dick replied, “
Pistols at dawn is what used to be the only recourse for such insinuations! But I'll forgive you this time, being as you're only a poor ignorant member of the masses who aren't ham operators. We've a strong, unwritten charter world-wide that cuts out personal gain unless a person we've helped wishes to make an award. I think with the contacts I have around the country, I should be able to find an operator who's prepared to reserve judgment on this situation until the entire story is told. We're a bit like reporters in this. Just don't tell us direct facts, which we don't need to know or report. The police and Whitehall will be quite busy after Richard's piece appears tomorrow
.”

Suddenly there was a thunderous crash outside and the old ship shuddered all along her length, straining against the invisible bonds tying her to the sea. With a series of crashing bangs as the freeing ports opened and discharged the water she'd shipped, the
Bonnie
Clyde
climbed out of the deep hole she seemed to be in. Through the chart room portholes we could see the last of an angry light edging the massed clouds all round the horizon.

Harris rose and made to sign off. “You must have heard that. It was a real mountain of water dumped on the foredeck. We must get on deck immediately. The wind's getting too strong! I do hope you can find a new ham, Richard, and speak to us tomorrow. Dick, this isn't goodbye because I think you're right about official activities, so I'd like to hear from Martin and you whenever they do come back to the village. Now, we really do have to sign off and will wait for you tomorrow, out.” And he cut the connection without giving them time to say more.

“I'm sorry I was so abrupt, but it's all hands on deck!” he said briskly, and we went plunging out into the sudden squall that had hit us. The rest of us, officers and crew, assembled quickly on deck. Each, I'm sure, equally apprehensive about the night to come.

Chapter 20

THE STOWAWAY

Earlier in the day, while we were all relaxing and enjoying the lull between storms, I accidentally discovered the reason for the fishing activities of Boris and Robert, and where their unlikely friendship must have started. Although it was quite a shock at the time, I reasoned that it was something that would be disclosed later on. It clearly wasn't anything that endangered the ship. For now, their secret was safe.

I'd gone down to the 'tween decks hold, along the dark passage still crammed with most of the things that had been brought on board, and now all sorted and secured by the boys. I was rummaging at the forward end near the main hatchway looking for any more galley items I could find and just enough light was coming through the companion opening for me to see. I happened to look aft and saw Boris with a lantern and a bucket preparing to go down to the lower hold. I was about to call out when I saw Robert as well, looking about, I thought, a bit furtively as though up to no good, and then he too disappeared down after Boris. Now, as far as I knew there was nothing in the main hold except the remaining line, tackle, and miscellaneous equipment used for the ship's operation. This also doubled as Boris's private domain and sleeping quarters, but then I remembered the large crate or box that I'd seen being loaded before the anchors were removed, the one covered in a tarpaulin. At the time I had thought little of it; now I was getting interested. What was it that these two were hiding?

I moved quietly through the 'tween decks, until I could see down through the companion opening into the main hold. Boris and Robert were sitting quietly next to a shrouded shape and were eating a bit of lunch, talking in low voices. Near them was a bucket full of fish. As I moved closer I heard a loud groaning coming from under the tarpaulin. Boris carefully peeled it back and there, looking out from its cage with weary, miserable eyes, was a large old brown bear with a grey muzzle. I could hardly believe my eyes! I guessed at once that it was Harris's bear from the circus. What it was doing here I hadn't the slightest idea. I moved closer and eased part way down the ladder to a ledge for a better vantage point.

Boris reached into the bucket for some fish and threw them into the cage. The bear sniffed at them, and took a nibble or two, but soon turned away and started groaning again.

Boris said, “I'm not understanding. He eating, but not very live.”

“I think he's seasick,” Robert said. “I've read that animals can get seasick too, but it usually doesn't make them chuck it up. They feel awful, just like people do.”

Boris disagreed. “Maybe trouble here,” he said, pointing to the hobbles on the bear's rear ankles. His legs were raw and chafed which was probably causing him pain. Robert agreed with Boris and suggested that they try to remove them. Boris said he'd tried several times with a lock-pick from a piece of metal. “When I tried before, bear angry.”

Robert pressed on. “Let's try again, because this looks like it could easily get infected. I think if we give him a fish, I can talk to him while you work on the leg iron, and we might be able to manage it,” he said confidently.

Giving the bear a fish, Boris managed to reach in and grab one of the leg irons. Exercising the greatest caution, he started to pick the lock. The bear lay still and stared out the front of the cage. Then without warning, he suddenly turned and nearly got Boris with a good swipe of his paw. Luckily Boris was quick and withdrew without a scratch.

Robert continued to talk softly to the poor old creature and the bear continued to eat. Boris resumed his work, when suddenly there was a loud click. The bear's ears went up briefly as Boris started to untwist the fastenings. It must have hurt because the bear pulled away each time. But this time he seemed to understand that Boris was there to help and pushed his leg back each time. He put his huge nose between his paws in an attitude of submission.

Boris now reached over and pulled the hobbles off, rather like stripping off a sticking plaster all in one go, so as to give one short pain. This brought an immediate response, with giant paws flying round. After a minute he sank back again and started to lick the two raw ankles, every now and then looking up at Boris almost as if trying to say something. Boris also now tried to communicate. He pulled the leg irons out from the back of the cage and went round to the front, holding them up in the air. After saying something in Russian, he flung the irons as far as he could across the cargo hold, where they crashed against the bulkhead. Boris walked over and kicked them to show his disgust, then walked back and sat in front of the bear. He reached into the bucket, pulled out another fish and placed it in the cage, but more slowly than he'd done previously.

This gesture did not go unnoticed. The bear made a soft sound and gave a look at Boris, then pulled the fish between his paws and put his head to one side. The gesture seemed to show that the bear now knew who Boris was, and knew that he could expect no harm from him. Boris seemed to enjoy talking to the bear in Russian, and it soon became evident that this bear was the only one on board who might actually know what he was talking about!

Robert said, “He seems to understand Russian. Do you think it's possible he had a Russian trainer?” Robert continued to watch the bear, who was resting much more easily now. “There'll come a time when we'll have to share with everyone what we have down here. I hope this cage is properly secured. We won't want it shifting, maybe breaking, and the bear on the loose. One thing we can do right now is get the big pot of Vaseline. He'll feel much better if I put some on for him.”

“Maybe works for now, but I make medicine which works much better,” Boris said.

Robert came running up the ladderway with the lantern so quickly that I was caught in the beam before I could react. Seeing me, Robert called back down to Boris, “We have a spy here. What shall we do with him?”

Boris came up to see who it was. “Come and sit with bear.”

When we were settled around the bear, I heard the whole story. The bear really didn't belong to the circus and was in need of a good home. Even the circus owners seemed to have forgotten about him at the last, fully expecting that all the animals would be taken in by zoos for the cold season. But there was nowhere for the bear. Thinking how much this animal meant to Harris, Robert suggested to Boris that the bear could be taken aboard the ship and kept a secret until we were well out to sea.

“He seems able to take the bad weather, but we must make sure he's fed every day and keep him supplied with lots of fresh water,” Robert said, “and very often that's quite a struggle with just the two of us to catch the fish. We're still in two minds whether to tell everyone about him or not. There never seems to be the right moment. I rather dread the reaction of the others, especially Bowman and Harris.”

Just now, with the wind rising and all the indications of the gale and coming storm, the time also didn't seem right. I agreed that we should hold off for a while. “The storm is going to keep everyone fully occupied, so the fewer worries, the better. Ignorance is bliss, at least in the short run,” I said. We covered over the bear's cage with the tarpaulin again and returned to our duties and the storm on the horizon.

Chapter 21

RUNNING WITH THE WIND

We were now running truly wild and free before the wind, for we were one with the wind, and the sea was ours. The pumps below had been operating all night. We were fortunate not to have taken in much water, both pumps had to run, and we were measuring every drop of petrol to make sure we rationed enough to keep us afloat. It felt splendid to be running free!

Seven days was Edward's calculation of our journey time from the time we took leave of the tug, but no one knew for certain. With a storm such as this one, we might not make forward progress at all, but we remained hopeful. After fighting the currents in the Channel, we'd be passing through extremely treacherous waters where many a shipwreck occurred at Lizard Point. After that, we still had to get round Land's End, another hazardous navigation point, where the lighthouse observatory station was. This would be the first possible place to sight us, and anyone who did would be straight on the phone to Whitehall. However, if we took a more southerly course to pass south and west of the Scilly Islands, this hazard could be avoided. We'd then be heading up to St. George's Channel, a bad place for contrary winds, before arriving at the Irish Sea. And if this was not enough, we still had narrow seas to get through before reaching the Firth of Clyde and the final run north to Dumbarton. We knew little of what fate awaited us once we finally reached Scotland. My heart sank at the thought of all the things that could go wrong. Edward was constantly reviewing his navigational estimates, although he admitted there were many things to be decided between each tack before the wind. He wasn't willing to talk about them except to Bowman, who of course constantly challenged each decision.

There were discussions about what would happen when we finally made port, but it was all strictly conjecture.

We knew there were people awaiting the ship's arrival who would give her a berth to secure her and keep her out of the hands of those who'd wish her scrapped. The question on our minds was what would become of us? It seemed somewhat unlikely that we'd be imprisoned, but I admit it did cross everyone's mind. From there, what? This was to be a new start in a place foreign to most of us. A new start was what this voyage was all about. I kept wondering if everything would turn out well enough for Katherine and me to make a go of it. This particular thought was all-consuming. I wanted this to be the beginning of our life together.

Many things had happened since the days at the Beasley Inn. It was only a few days ago, but it seemed as though years had passed. None of the boys missed their charming headmaster, O'Connell. I'd only heard his name mentioned once in passing during the entire voyage. I hadn't spent much time around young people, but I spoke to them as I would any enlisted seamen. During the last few months of planning, this escape had given them new life. The experience brought them a sense of unity.

As we came from the hold Boris said, “Weather.”

Robert looked round. “Eh?”

“Weather,” Boris repeated, “weather is coming. Get boys on deck.” Robert took his bo'sun's pipe and gave the call for all hands on deck. When everyone had assembled, Boris stepped forward.

“Boys,” Boris called out, “this, everyone must have.” He produced a length of rope that looked like a running noose with a large halyard snap in front of the harness he was tying.

“This,” he explained, “is what everyone must wear, every day, all day, every hour.” We all paid close attention. “Works like this.” He stepped into the triple noose, pulling it up his legs with the other two loops under his armpits, and adjusted the knot on the clasp.

“You take this halyard snap and when you climb the mast to work with the sails, you snap this clamp to the railing which runs across the length of the top of each yard. This is called the jackstay as I have told you before. If fall, only little way!” He jumped into the nearest ratlines, clipped the snap on and let go. He'd fallen as far as the loop slack went and hung there with his arms and legs outspread before pulling himself back to the rigging. In this way Boris was going to make sure that each boy had a safety harness while working aloft.

I'd never seen anything quite like it before, but then again, there were many things on this ship and about this voyage I'd never seen at sea. This was certainly going to make me feel safe when I had to help with the sails. Boris had even covered the deck crew. He told everyone to practise using the fixed safety lines rigged along the decks so that each one would snap onto them automatically, even when there was no sea running.

“You practise,” he said, “then no wave come and wash you over side. Bad weather coming, look!” Everyone looked astern in the direction Boris was pointing. Dark clouds were gathering even thicker, over-piling each other, and coming our way.

“You each do this, start now. When you want change direction, unsnap and snap on next rope. Have ropes both sides and amidships. This way, you be safe,” he finished, casting a fierce glance over the lot of us. After that we all practised, for we realised that our lives might depend on it.

Boris and Harris's class in seamanship up at the orphanage and on the ship had given the boys a good head start on how to put these knots together. They were making quick work of this new harness and after each boy finished his own, he'd start helping the others. This co-operation and camaraderie was displayed frequently among the boys, who'd been together so long, holding one another together at the orphanage, and now at sea.

With the storm almost upon us, we worked to shorten sail. So long as there were enough boys, I wasn't about to go up to the yards and was quite happy to man the capstan, winches, and down-hauls. It was difficult enough to stay upright on the pitching, yawing deck. I didn't want to think what it was like aloft, with the masts and yards swaying through the air. I knew those conditions well, having been in them before, but I also knew that I couldn't remain on deck all the time. Soon enough I would need to go aloft. Bowman had stayed inside the shelter of the chart room and when we'd finished, I staggered in to join him.

“I've been thinking,” I was eventually able to gasp out, “that it might be a good idea to radio the
Grouse
and find out what the weather is like back there. Harwich and Dover are on the same longitude, and I'm worried what the MTB has been doing since this morning. If they've been getting the edges of this storm, it can only slow them down or have them shelter in a port.”

Bowman considered this and said, “Yes, the more information we have the better. Let's try it. But first, send Harris down.”

I went up on deck and intercepted Harris making his rounds. “Bowman would like to see you in the chart room,” I called out.

“Oh he would, would he?” he exclaimed, wiping his forehead with his huge forearm.

“Yes, it's regarding the weather,” I began.

“Oh yes, yes. I seem to remember noticing there was weather. Uncle Billy wants us to change that, right?”

“Enough God-damn sarcasm, ye great lump!” boomed Bowman's voice from behind me, announcing his presence. I jumped in surprise, not knowing that he'd suddenly decided to follow me up to have a look at things for himself. “Now, from where I stand, it looks much like it will be upon us quite possibly before nightfall, or certainly by early tomorrow,” he said.

Harris pulled out a pair of binoculars. He gazed through the lenses, studying the horizon and murmuring something unintelligible, a habit he, Edward, and Bowman seemed to have perfected. Harris and Bowman then made their way back to the chart room and I went for the radio.

It was very hard getting through to the
Grouse
. When there was a response, it had a lot of crackle and static. “
This is the Grouse, over
,” finally came through.

“This is Flynn on the
Bonnie Clyde
. Is that you, Bob? We're curious as to what weather you're experiencing, over.”

There was a lot of noise from the other end, plus the usual atmospherics, and Bob replied, “
Satan's cesspool, and all bloody hell. Lovely weather wouldn't you say? The North Sea only gets like this when we have the tail end of some really bad weather from over the Atlantic. I should guess by now you're well into the thick of it too, over
.”

“We are, or are just about to be,” I shouted back. “The other reason for calling was to ask if you have any experience of how an MTB handles in weather like this. I've only seen them on coastal patrols in the Royal Navy. We've been told that there's one based in Dover with orders to pursue us, starting this morning.”

“
I just hope the captain isn't a death-and-glory boy
,” Bob came back, “
and got back into harbour as soon as he could see what was happening. Those boats can easily be swamped and capsized depending on how big a wave hits them. The waves are high and the wind is gale force. I'd say we're looking at forty to fifty knot gusts and we're
—” At that moment there was a slam on the other end of the microphone.

“—
experiencing heavy buffeting
,” said Bob.

“Can you give me your position?” I asked.

“
At the moment, flat on my arse
,” Bob replied.

“Well, I suppose we're both busy so I'll sign off for now. Thanks for the information and best of luck.”

“
Thanks, but here's hoping we don't need it. Good luck to you too, out
,” and Bob broke the connection.

Harris had come in while we were talking. “Sounds like quite a blow. Let's take a survey of what still needs doing. I'm sure there must be plenty we've overlooked,” he said looking thoughtful.

“Hmm...” I thought for a moment. “You go ahead while I go make sure that Katherine has secured everything in the galley.”

“Right, you start there and then meet me back on deck. And don't you be all day about it,” Harris barked. I didn't really feel guilty about not telling him that I knew Katherine had already put the galley in order. I just felt I deserved a few minutes alone with her, so I headed quickly down there. Not seeing her, I went back to her cabin. Her door was open and she was making the best of trying to move the dust from one place to another. Seeing me, she turned with a smile.

“Ah, Flynn, do me a favour.” She handed me a broom, “Give that a shake-out, will you?”

“Ooh-h—I don't really think we have the time for that. This storm is moving in at quite a pace, and I need see that everything is secured and tied down.”

“How much of a storm?” she asked, looking worried.

“I suspect that we'll be doing a lot of step-dancing just to keep our feet under us for a time.”

“Hm-m, lovely,” she responded, unenthusiastic.

“Yes, Harris's sentiments precisely. Just make sure that anything that
can
move,
doesn't
,” I said. “How does that fit with things in the galley?”

“Everything here seems to be fairly tight, she said with a fair show of confidence, I'll have one more go round.” Katherine sounded reassuring. We began to stow things properly in the lockers under her bunk. This was difficult with the ship leaping about like a live thing, and I suggested she should make sure everything was shut up tightly, as the storm was going to play hob with anything left loose. It certainly played hob with my try at kissing her just then, for we finished up flat on the floor by the bunk—since we'd been holding onto one another rather than onto some other support, as would have been sensible. Being down but not out, the next few minutes were pleasantly passed despite the jumpy deck beneath us, but I finally had to tell her that I really needed to find Harris before he came looking for me. I heaved a tragic sigh.

“Oh very well, off with you then,” she said with a grin.

I climbed up the ladderway to the main deck and found it was growing even more blustery. The boys on deck were wearing their harnesses and were busy tying down everything that could get loose. Harris was checking the fixed lifelines by swinging his great bulk on them. Boris was supervising a group of boys going aloft to check the stays, buntlines, and clewlines. They were also making certain that the gaskets had been properly fixed so that if it was decided that more sail was needed in the middle of the storm, no one was going to have trouble releasing it. Nothing worse in a storm than a sail half set, threatening to be blown away or ripped to pieces because a gasket won't come loose!

I could see Edward going along the pin rails, inspecting each of the lines running up to the great yards aloft. He looked over at me and waved. “Maybe we should talk to Boris and suggest using the mechanical winches and turn those yards just a bit. I'd rather ride out the storm just a wee bit closer to the wind so we don't get pushed too far off course.” He squinted about. “Where is Boris?”

I pointed towards the towering masts. Boris was doing his high-wire act, as he swung from yardarm to yardarm, making sure all was in proper order to withstand the strain of the oncoming wind.

Edward peered up at him. “Well, I've a thing or two to do. Could you be after telling Boris of my suggestion when he gets down? We still need to connect those mechanical winches to the masts. We've tried that once before and it seemed rather successful to me,” he nodded in satisfaction and moved off.

Harris was occupied with piles of wet line that still hadn't got coiled down after furling the sails.

“Here, give a hand with this lot,” he cried, “they've got into a complete mess.”

I took one of the coils of line and began to untangle it from another and then another. Wouldn't you know, it was just my luck to get the one with the most tangles, twists, and kinks. In the end, I had to lay all three down along the deck to knock out the kinks before I was able to coil them down in the proper fashion.