A Ship's Tale (52 page)

Harris, unaccustomed to being defeated, now came to himself. He went over and opened the porthole through which the sound of cheering and celebration became louder with the sounds of horns and bells and then closed it. Harris later told us that when Commander Wright said we had nothing to bargain with, Bowman's words came to him as they had an hour earlier: Harris, d'ye remember when I used to teach ye poker as a youngster, and ye'd go on making remarks about how this hand or that was going to flatten me. What did I use to say to you? Put up or shut up!

Harris now turned to the commander and said, “Nothing to bargain with? I'll up the pot by a few thousand people, the AP, a few newspapers, and I call,” he answered with a coy look.

Wright smiled back, knowing Harris did indeed have a winning hand. “If what I've been reading in the papers is any indication, I think you'd all rather go to jail than admit you were wrong. However, public opinion would make any politician quake in his shoes. The Prime Minister has suggested that the whole matter be allowed to fade quietly away, provided you refrain from giving any more stories to the newspapers. He also asked that you no longer continue in public to characterise the government as stupid, unfeeling, and not listening to common sense, and all the other terms the press attribute to you. In short, the whole episode is to be as if it never happened.

“In return, no criminal charges will be brought against you for taking the ship, taking the condemned stores, taking the handset from the tug, or taking the boys away from the orphanage. I regret we can do nothing about the matter regarding the sails, although I've heard tell that you have a few months in which to replace what you, ah…borrowed. As for the bear, my orders do not cover wild animals. So, what do you think of this proposition?”

To say that we were dumbstruck would be an understatement. Every one of our worries taken care of in one blow, in return for almost nothing! Now that we'd handed over the ship, there was really no reason for us to be saying anything, except now everyone wanted to hear about it.

Harris looked at me and said, “That seems to cover all the points we raised before, Flynn.”

I agreed. We could all start with a clean slate and no endless arguments with officials or lawyers.

Harris addressed Commander Wright. “You know you set the captain of the MTB an almost impossible task, especially once the storm had gone. I think he did damn well even to find us.”

“I've already noted that young man in my personnel files. He did a rather good job of showing he was following orders in the last few miles. But what do you say to this proposal? Remember that whatever you decide, this conversation never happened and would be officially denied if anyone spoke of it outside of this cabin.”

Harris looked at each of us. “Well, I know your answer, Flynn. You'll excuse me for not asking you, Katherine, as you're an innocent bystander in all this. Edward, I hope you can see that this is the best solution.”

Edward, though looking pitiably broken and lost at the passing of his old friend, managed to say, “Aye, aye, Harris, whatever you say, so long as you think Billy would have approved. I'm not myself thinking too well just now, but what I do know is we must hold a wake to say a proper goodbye.”

Harris then turned to the commander. “Just as you've heard of me, so I've heard of you from men who served under you. I hope that you haven't been changed by over-long contact with Whitehall, but I'll take my chance on what I see now. The answer is yes, Commander Wright. We accept the offer, and may it bind you as it binds us.”

Harris stood up with his hand outstretched to shake hands with Wright, who also rose and took it in a firm grip without the painful expression that normally accompanies a Harris handshake.

“You have my word,” Wright said. “Excuse me for a moment.” He opened the door to call his lieutenant, “Please send this message: Ship found abandoned and empty, and have agreed to relinquish to builder. All other points settled and agreed. After it's been sent, give a copy to this gentleman here,” and he indicated Harris. The lieutenant saluted smartly and left.

Commander Wright now relaxed and shook everyone's hand with a reserved smile on his face, and he congratulated us on completing a job he'd have liked to have had a go at himself. He was charming to Katherine, wishing the both of us well and a long life by the sea.

Harris had seen something on the desk while he was sitting there and picked up a paper from the desk. “This must have been one of the last things Uncle Billy did,” he said, handing me a piece of paper.

It was our marriage certificate.

Edward now stood up, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes. “We need to get out there and explain matters to all the good people who've been waiting for us and make the hand-over of the
Bonnie Clyde
official.” He turned to the curtained-off bunk. “I'm glad we did it, but I'm going to be lonely now.” We walked out to the waiting reception. As I closed the door I looked back at the cup on the desk, no more steam rose from it.

Katherine and I went ashore to a waving crowd, and tried to participate in some of the festivities going on celebrating the
Bonnie
Clyde
's arrival. Everyone seemed to know a lot about us because they'd followed the adventure on the radio and in the newspapers.

There were hundreds of questions asked by different people, but just then I couldn't bring myself to speak. Our emotions were amazingly divided.

Happiness to be married, happiness for our safe arrival, happiness for not being prosecuted, gratitude for an enthusiastic welcome, sadness for our journey being over, sadness for losing our captain and friend, and just plain confusion.

Where do we go from here?

Chapter 30

A SAD FAREWELL

Two days later, several of us were aboard the MTB, heading out towards the open sea. We were guests of the Royal Navy, to bid farewell to an old friend. It was a gracious gesture by the MTB's captain, whom we had after all roundly thwarted, and by Commander Wright, who enthusiastically endorsed it, to offer his vessel to help lay Bowman to rest beneath the waves. The stretcher stood on its trestles aft, covered with the British Ensign and the flag of Scotland, his last colours now struck from the masthead of the
Bonnie
Clyde
.

It had been a hectic two days since we arrived. Mr. Reith was visibly taken aback when we told him of Bowman's death. He insisted on attending to the funeral arrangements. “It's the least I can do for my old friend,” he said, “and ye have many things to do. He looked so fit when I saw him just three weeks ago,” he mourned. Edward told him that the next evening they must hold Bowman's wake, which Edward was going to arrange once he'd contacted some old friends.

Harris explained that Bowman had had a heart problem for some time, but he never cared to discuss it. “I'd take a bet that it was far worse than he ever let on, but he was so determined to save the ship that he overdid it.”

We finally met Richard face to face, and he took to us as we to him. Sitting in the hotel lounge, where Mr. Reith had booked us rooms, we told Richard what had happened in Bowman's cabin and the agreement we'd made with the Prime Minister's personal representative, but that it was top secret.

“Don't worry,” Richard said, “you've agreed to certain things, but I haven't, nor have any of the other reporters in town. I don't think anyone will continue calling the government rude names, especially after I spread the word round about them going easy on you. No government official has the right to make the press shut up, so we will continue writing. I doubt seriously if the Prime Minister's office would pick a fight with those of us who buy ink by the barrel.”

Having had a look at some of the papers Richard brought for us, it was no wonder the crowds were so thick.
The Times
thundered on about the government and the rights of people, while the
Daily Mirror
had Katherine tending the boys like Snow White.

The night before, we went to Bowman's wake. I'd never been to a wake and hadn't known quite what to expect. It was held in the home of a friend, because public health laws in Scotland prohibited the exposure of a corpse in a public place. Despite the stories, it was very respectful. The door was left open so that Bowman, lying on the bed, could be said to be “taking part” in the drinking that was going on in the next room, up the stairs, in the kitchen, indeed anywhere there was space. Bowman's friends and shipmates seemed to be legion, and none of them came without bringing “a little something” to help the wake along. Early on, there were some fine tributes made and we learnt a lot of Bowman's career and his character, but what came over most was the affection these people all felt for him, which they now needed to celebrate.

Katherine and I, having our own private celebrating to do, left early to the sound of various lewd remarks. Harris, Robert, Boris, and Edward stayed till the last man left the house.

Now, as we continued out to sea, they were all feeling and showing the effects of the affair.

This was the first time Robert had met Commander Wright, who now tried to find out something of our involvement. “Two former Royal Navy officers, eh? Just how did you get mixed up with all this, if you don't mind my enquiring?” Robert and I looked at each other for a moment.

“I'm afraid that needs a great deal of explanation,” I answered. “It seemed the thing to do at the time. Besides, we succeeded in saving a grand old ship, a group of unfortunate lads, and went on an adventure few would have thought possible these days.”

“And the large bear?” Wright smiled.

“Well, everyone needs a pet,” Robert replied with a laugh.

“What about this Russian?” Wright asked.

“His name is Boris and he's one of the finest riggers and seamen I've ever known,” I told him. I looked aft where the stretcher rested and saw Boris sitting next to it with one hand holding the rail. He sat very still looking aft at the white wake churned up by the machinery below, which gave off a steady roar.

Harris and Edward were seemingly arguing over something so I went over to see what the problem was. The pair of them couldn't agree that the stretcher should be covered with both the flags: England, under which Bowman had served most of his time at sea, and the flag of Scotland, his heritage.

I whispered savagely, “Stop your drunken bickering and show some respect!” They both blinked at this, stopped, and then looked sheepish.

I walked forward with Katherine, the wind blowing her chestnut hair about as she tried to tie it back. We spoke with several of the crew members as we stood beside the forward deck gun that just days earlier had been pointing at us, demanding our surrender. It was covered over now and from behind was looking far less ominous. Eventually the roar of the engines softened as the boat slowed in the water.

Mr. Reith found us a fine piper from one of the Scottish regiments home after the long War. I suggested that he play a set of good Highland marching tunes, because I was sure Bowman wouldn't want dirges as we journeyed out. The lilting wail of the pipes seemed like elemental voices borne on the wind, sea-spirits chorusing a welcome to a son of the sea coming among them.

The bagpipes now fell silent with a last moan, as the bo'sun's pipe rang its whistle. Everyone snapped to an unrehearsed salute as two crew members moved to lift one end of the flag-draped stretcher to send Captain Bowman to his eternal resting place in the deep silence below. When the stretcher was lowered, only the flags remained, and they were folded quickly with skilled hands and presented to Harris, who made no attempt to hide the tears that ran down his face.

I asked for a lament and Commander Wright read a short prayer.

Harris had made one request; that nothing be read from the Bible. “It's fairly well documented that the Bible was written by people who thought the world was flat,” he told the commander. “Captain Bowman always thought that it was a ridiculous contradiction for a sailor to believe all that's written there.”

“That's odd,” Wright said, “I never thought of it that way before.”

We returned to the builders' quay where the
Bonnie
Clyde
stood in the dry dock and thanked our hosts for their generosity.

Commander Wright turned to Harris, “I assume that I'll never know exactly what was taken from the scrap-yard. I mean taken and paid for,” he added quickly.

“I don't suppose you brought a list along with you,” Harris grinned.

“Unfortunately not. And there's one thing more I'd really like to know. Just how did you make radar contacts come and go, and have radio transmissions coming from different sources?”

Harris gave an engaging smile. “There are some answers, I'm afraid, that Captain Bowman has taken with him, and that's one.”

Wright looked closely at Harris. “You're sure that you've no idea how these things were done?”

“Oh yes, quite sure,” Harris assured him. “Uncle Billy had many secrets that now will forever be his. Even as his first mate, I was only let in on so much.”

“You must have known about the other ships,” the commander persisted.

Harris looked innocently surprised. “What ships would those be?”

“The other sailing ships. The—oh, never mind!” Commander Wright sighed, throwing up his hands in resignation. “I wish I'd known him. There were some tactics I'd love to have known about. Positively brilliant.” He looked keenly at Harris, who refused to be drawn out. He was surely aware that Harris would never tell even if he knew, but he had to try, after all.

After we disembarked and the MTB had sped out of sight, we stood at the dock and paused for a few moments, looking at the river. I asked Harris why he hadn't given the commander the answers to his questions.

Harris only laughed. “Sometimes it's nice to have a legend live on despite our knowing how it started in the first place. We still must protect those who helped us. As Richard said during the wake, ‘When the legend becomes too factual, print the legend.'”

Harris reached into his coat pocket and produced a flask. “Here's to Uncle Billy,” he said, taking a drink before passing it to me. I also toasted dear old Bowman. Boris, Edward, and Robert each did the same. Just as Harris was about to place the flask in his pocket, Katherine spoke up.

“Ah, aren't you forgetting someone?”

“Excuse me,” Harris said graciously and passed her the flask. After all, she'd been as much a part of this as everyone else. Bowman would have been insulted had she not been allowed to participate. He'd really become extremely fond of her during the voyage.

Suddenly a thought struck me. I reached into my jacket pocket, and feeling the silver flask, pulled it out of my inner pocket. It was Bowman's flask that he'd loaned me during the worst of the storm, and I completely forgot about it till now.

“Harris, I believe Bowman would have wanted you to have this,” I said unsteadily, holding out the flask.

He gazed at it for a long while, and seemed once more at a loss for words. Then he shook his great head. “No, Flynn,” he murmured, “you hold on to it, will you?” He raised his own flask once more in a last toast. “To the memory of Captain Bowman—a fine sailor, a good man, and one of nature's gentlemen.”

“Hear, hear,” we all agreed, and took another wee drop in his honour.