A Ship's Tale (45 page)

I shot down to the galley, found Robert and Larry, and chivied them up to the wheel within seconds. Harris and I got ourselves comfortable in front of the radio, together with Bowman. Edward finished greeting Richard and handed the handset to Harris.

“Hello there, Richard,” he began, “we missed you yesterday, so I hope all's well with you.”

“
Hello, Harris. I'm sorry I didn't get through, but I expect you heard from Martin that the weather hit everything here too. It was difficult to get around, and I needed to see people to check on stories…Anyway, I decided it was better to call this morning with news from my Whitehall friend that the MTB was still confined to harbour in Dover. He said the commander called off his search because of a message that came from you just west of the Straits. How did you manage that? I'm sure you're much further west
.”

“Unfortunately that's a state secret just now and won't be for publication even when I can tell you,” Harris replied, laughing. “I'm sorry, but I know the mystery man won't care to let his name be known.”

“
You sailors! Sometimes I envy you the assistance you can call on freely given. We landlubbers have a lot to learn from it. The MTB in Dover had strict instructions not to risk his boat, but to get out as soon as he can. According to the latest shipping forecast, I suppose he'll move some time this afternoon
.”

“That's our reckoning too,” Harris said, “and it would be nice to know if he carries on with the same search pattern. We also think they'll start using spotter planes again. Just before the storm closed in, the one from near Swindon skimmed near, but didn't see us. Not surprising considering the amount of whitecaps at the time. Has your friend mentioned that they may use another patrol boat based in Plymouth or Cardiff?”

“
Not yet
,” Richard replied, “
but you know better than I that the chances of you being spotted will go up as the storm dies. Forget about spotter planes, it's more apt to be a ferry or freighter that sees you, since they've been told you're suspected of various crimes and they should report your position immediately. On a positive note is the publicity you have so far, including regular mention on the BBC. I'm counting on your seamen's fraternity that not many will report. I'll sound out my friend about MTB stations still operational
.”

“Thanks, Richard, you're a great help, and we really do appreciate it. Don't forget, we're ready to answer any and all questions you have. Before that, we have some matters we need to discuss with you. Last night, Captain Bowman, Flynn, and I had a long talk, because we're worried about what will happen when we get to the end of this voyage. Reading plain facts, anyone would think we were just a bunch of crooks, stealing this and that, abducting boys, and maybe a young lady. Why, it's every good citizen's duty to hunt us down.”

Richard cut in quickly, “
A lot of that has already been countered by the newspaper reports. Many, many people are on your side
.”

“We understand that, thanks to you,” Harris continued. “No, our worry is deeper because we know we've bent the noses of some self-important Whitehall officials who are now so personally embarrassed that we think they'll stop at nothing to get us. We need to protect ourselves even further by getting more detail into the papers. What worries us most is the consequences of our taking the boys from the orphanage to be our crew. At the time, it seemed a way of giving them a better life, but having to do it secretly spoilt the effect. We heard from Martin that O'Connell has been exposed for a cheat and embezzler. It's only a matter of time before he's charged. We think if we can get certain information published before then, we'll have a better chance in any court case against us, but we may be completely wrong in our conclusions. Martin has a good friend who used to work at
The Times
, and has contacts in the departments of government subsidies and social welfare. He thinks
The Times
might support an investigation into lax government methods. The story would come out of how O'Connell was appointed guardian in the first place, and how—”

“
No need to go on
,” Richard said in a cheery voice. “
I get what you're driving at. I'll talk to my boss to see if he cares to get involved in what could be a very dirty saga of Whitehall types running for cover and knifing all and sundry as they go. He could finish up with a few enemies that way.
The Times
is seen as an upholder of good government. If he opts for trying to interest
The Times
, I'll phone Martin and have him introduce me to his man. Don't worry, the very worst they can get you for is sailing away without permission, especially after they interview the boys. What else did you discuss
?”

“A small matter of stealing about two thousand pounds worth of canvas,” Bowman called out.

Harris interrupted, “You can hear the captain is a bit touchy on the subject, but we wanted to emphasise that we took the tents because we couldn't find any other source of canvas. Just make sure you give our apologies to the owners. But I'm not going to apologise about the bear. I'm quite sure it would have died because of their negligence.”

Richard replied, “
I suppose a headline in the paper is better than a small ad. I'll see what I can do. Anything else
?”

“One small thing which we nearly overlooked,” Harris laughed. “Only a matter of the ship! If your legal boys like that one, they might look up some points about endangering a ship at sea. I just assumed that the tug captain would have got entry to a harbour anywhere once it got dark instead of heaving to. I suppose he was just too embarrassed, the idiot!”

“
Well, I can be a witness as to that
,” Richard said. “
My advice is not to worry. When you get to Dumbarton, the police are going to have a hard time if they decide to make arrests. I hear the whole town is talking. I've been speaking to the shipbuilders there who say they support you all the way. Hopefully, public opinion will let them speak out in the next day or two, although unfortunately they do depend a lot on government contracts
.”

“It's good to know that people are hearing and supporting us,” nodded Harris. “Speaking of shipbuilders, please pass a message to Mr. Reith that we understand and are sorry to have put him into an awkward position. Is there anything you want to know just now?”

“
I want to get started on the legal questions
,” said Richard. “
By the way
,
how is the storm
?”

“There are signs that it's breaking up,” Harris answered. “We've still got strong winds, but the sea has eased a bit. If there isn't anything else, we'd better get ourselves back on deck, and will look forward to your next call.”

“
Right
,” Richard said. “
I'll get busy and let you know what I find out. Look after yourselves. Bye for now
,” and he cut the connection.

Bowman said, “He seems hopeful, which I take as a good sign. But see how ye can hurt people and their businesses when ye don't think the whole thing through properly. I wish I'd given Mr. Reith a call.” He stood up with some difficulty, struggling against the pitching of the ship, and slowly made his way to his cabin.

Harris and I left, but before we could get the door to the bridge deck open there came a most eerie tortured noise, a crashing sound of splintering wood and twisting metal that finished with a great thud from the fo'c's'le head.

“Hell and damnation, that's a yardarm!” Harris shouted as he hustled through the door with me running right behind him.

The ship had already lost her bounce, and her head was weaving as Larry and Robert fought to hold her steady. Harris raced across the well deck to where a small figure lay crumpled and another sat leaning against number one hatch. Above them a huge shape rose from the fo'c's'le head deck into the air, the other twisted end swaying and banging against the foremast. The lower topsail yardarm had broken in two. One half still held level by the track in the mast and the brace rope from the upper topsail yard, while the other half was held precariously in place by tattered rigging and twisted sail. Confusion was everywhere as boys ran back and forth. Little could be heard above the wind and the flapping of the sails. There was a small centre of order where Boris stood giving out instructions and passing lines to different crew members.

As I got there, everyone seemed to be working to lower a huge piece of sail to the deck. I looked up to see one boy working his way out along the broken yard, releasing the head ropes. Boris pointed towards me, signalling that the dangling part of the yard was to be hauled tight in and lashed to the mast. There are times when no matter what language is spoken, no words are necessary. As I hauled on the line Boris had thrown to me, I saw Harris carefully pick up the fallen boy and head for the chart room, while Larry helped the other one to follow. More boys joined me on the rope Boris had thrown me and, having taken many turns around the broken yard, we eventually felt assured that it wouldn't fall and puncture the deck below.

The torn sail was lowered to the deck and was being replaced with another hoisted up to the empty fore upper topgallant yard. This required a good deal of impromptu rigging in the dark and against the wind with several crew members helping Boris. Remarkably, everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing and the rest took instruction without question.

At last the gantline was fixed to the centre of the sail, and together with some of the boys, I walked the capstan to raise it to the yardarm, where it was attached to the stayrail while others on deck hauled on the buntlines to prevent it flying out of control. Somehow the emergency had brought out all the strength and knowledge in our bodies and minds just when they were needed, and the new sail was in place and working within an hour of the breaking. Having taken on one problem, Boris was thinking of the next several to follow. Although it never came up on the journey, I was certain he must have been a formidable chess opponent being able to calculate things far in advance.

Looking at the port side of the broken yard, Boris decided that it could stay in place until the storm had gone. Having it securely lashed to the mast ensured that it would hold for the time being.

Finally the bo'sun's pipe signalled everyone to stand down, and I headed for the chart room to see about the casualties. To my relief, both boys were awake and talking with the others who had crowded in. One, however, was still lying on the chart table while Harris and Katherine dealt with the grazes and cuts on his arm and leg. Edward told me that the boy had lain unconscious for about fifteen minutes. With his over-bright eyes and rambling talk, he could still be suffering from a concussion.

At last the bandaging was done and Harris gave the patient two pills labelled For Sleep. Then, despite his protests, Harris picked him up and carried him to the fo'c's'le. Harris sent one of the others to get a couple of extra blankets. He told Larry, “The boy's still in shock and must be kept warm. Stay with him until he falls asleep, and make sure someone wakes him every so often and keeps him covered up.”

I then sent everyone off on his duties and went down with Katherine to get coffee for me and Harris, which I carried back to the chart room. He took quite some time to get back, and I was just about to go find him, when he came in and sat down heavily in the other chair. He looked shaken, with a white face and a fine sweat on his forehead. I reached into his coat pocket for his flask and poured a generous tot into his coffee, then handed it to him. He gulped down half in one swallow, and his colour came back to his face and his eyes seemed to focus once more.

“What happened to you?” I asked in concern. “Delayed shock?”

“No,” he replied, his face twisted in grief. “It's the shock I got just now. I wondered why Uncle Billy hadn't come out when the yard crashed, so I went to his cabin. As I got there, he was opening the door to his cabin and asked me where the young lad in the white uniform was. You know, the one he says brings him tea?”

“Yes I've heard him say that before, as you know.” I said.

“This is the first time he asked me. It was as if I wasn't there, if you know what I mean.” Harris darkened, “Then he took my arm and guided me into the cabin. Now, this is the scary part. He took me over to his desk and said, ‘Look, there's my tea.' But there was nothing. Oh, Uncle Billy! I don't know what's going on.”

After a moment Harris continued quietly, “After that he sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. We must keep a close watch on him, but without his knowledge. He would never warm to the idea, so try not to notice. Any time he looks frail or tired please speak to me first.”

I promised, and reminded Harris that we'd discussed all this before. I was concerned at the thought of Bowman becoming mentally unhinged. This was hard to imagine, since he seemed the toughest person I'd ever met that first day I came aboard ship. We finished our coffee in silence. Harris finally spoke up in his usual booming voice.

“Come on then, let's go see what we're going to do with this broken yardarm.”

Outside, the storm was definitely on its way out. The clouds had now broken and blue sky could be seen. The wind had veered to the north, as the waves began a long swelling march to the horizon all round with hardly a whitecap to be seen. Boris had been able to follow the wind by furling the sails on the foremast in order to avoid strain on the broken yardarm still aloft.

“What a mess,” Harris groaned in disgust, “what a bloody mess! Both parts are a danger, both on board or overboard, but they must come down somehow. But where the hell am I going to put them?”