A Ship's Tale (47 page)

“Young lady, you're
dangerous
company,” a voice rumbled from behind us as Harris came up from below. “It's about the end of your shift, Flynn, so why don't you go and watch the flowers grow or something
off
the poop deck. I'll see to our course correction. Anyway, you're in no fit state to get it right,” and giving me a push, he took over the wheel.

Instead of heading aft, I took Katherine's hand and we went forward. Now the swoop of the bowsprit was slower and more majestic as the bow split the sea, throwing spray no higher than the rail. I showed her how all the sails lined up parallel down the length of the ship and how they bellied out, all set to catch the maximum wind. In the light of the waning moon, they glowed a little, standing solid like tall grey trees. We came down from the forepeak and walked slowly along the well deck. Katherine suddenly looked about in a puzzled fashion, sniffing, and remarked, “That's an odd smell.”

I had a premonition of what we'd see next, so I said to her, “Don't be alarmed, he's really very tame.” The next moment, a big lumbering shape came waddling round the covered hatch, followed by Boris. After the successive storms and just after our change of course, the bear escaped once more from the hold onto the deck and there'd been no opportunity to take him back down. Since he was so tame, there was no worry, but Harris made a point of having Boris keeping an eye on him. At first Katherine got behind me when the shaggy beast came closer. He stopped as well, and twisted his head from side to side, sniffing loudly.

Boris said, “New smell, must know you,” and he spoke in Russian to the bear. While scratching its head and ears, he held out his hand to Katherine and beckoned her to come forward. She was hesitant, but eventually, leaning far forward, she quickly stroked its nose and drew back.

“No good,” Boris said, “must give him time.”

She went forward again and held out her hand for the bear to sniff, then let him sniff at her feet and at the hem of her dress. All the while he rumbled in his throat, and now he gave a sharp snort and nuzzled up to her. She began to smile, scratching behind his ears, and then held him under his chin to say hello while he peered at her with his short-sighted eyes.

How Boris had got him to walk with him around on deck I didn't know. The bear wouldn't be able to stay in the midst of the rushing boys as they braced yards or hauled down on lines, unless he was on top of the number one hatch cover. It was small but easily climbable and wasn't used for anything besides the cork life rafts.

I said to Boris, “It's seems a pity to leave him below now that you've got him up here. Why not have a word with Harris about keeping him up here?” I explained about the hatch cover. “We've only got a couple more days of sailing, and even if it gets rough, you should be able to make him some sort of safety harness.”

Boris looked thoughtful. “I think about it,” he said, and prodded at the bear to carry on walking. Although large waves would occasionally break across the deck surface, Brown Bear seemed surprisingly placid as we streamed along, running with all possible sails in place. He never did understand why the water washing over the deck always tasted so bad.

As Boris was passing, I started to tell him about our new course, but he said he was just too tired to be bothered at present and was going off to get some sleep.

“Aren't you interested in our current position?” I asked.

“Why? This will change nothing. Boris will sleep tonight. Wherever we are is where we will be,” he said with a yawn. There was certainly no arguing with that logic.

“Well now,” Katherine exclaimed, “I can see now why that reporter said we have everything. I sometimes think that all men must be crazy, because they do such crazy things. Here's a problem of getting an old ship from the Thames to the Clyde, and you bring along a huge brown bear for the ride. But men need feeding, and if I don't get some sleep, there won't be any breakfast.” We took our last look up at the sky, nearly cloudless and star-filled, before making our way down to our cabin.

Outside her door, I gave a look in both directions before I slid it open and then closed it behind me. There was a small light given off by a trimmed wick turned low. Katherine chuckled in amusement.

“Don't worry. Mrs. Beasley would never look for us here,” she said, and we both laughed. “Tired?” she asked.

“Extremely,” I replied.

“Well, I don't mean to be pushy, but if you're sleeping here, get undressed and keep me warm,” she ordered. I hesitated momentarily, but only momentarily. Then I quickly pulled off my clothes and fled under the covers.

She hastily joined me. “You're freezing!” protested the owner of the warm soft body now shrinking from me.

“I'm sorry, but I haven't been warm all day,” I sighed, giving a shiver for emphasis. Katherine chafed my frigid feet with hers impatiently. I wouldn't have blamed her if she shoved me out, but to my surprise she drew near again and kissed my icy lips.

“Cuddle up, I've been looking forward to this all day,” she whispered. I needed no further encouragement, and wrapped my arms about her snugly.

“Oh, Flynn, what will we do when we arrive there?” she asked sounding concerned.

“I just want to make you happy,” I said, “but I've been worried about making sure everything would work out.”

“Aren't we a pair?” she laughed again. “Each of us worrying about the other's feelings while both sharing them. What would you like to do when we arrive?” she asked.

“As long as we're together, it matters little. I'm sure I can get work enough to keep us comfortable, and I've saved most of what I made at the Inn. And I never used my ration slips while I was there and have over a month's worth.” I said. There was so much I wanted to say, but where to begin? “Katherine?” I whispered.

“Yes?” she said.

“You needn't feel under any pressure this moment,” I began, “but I don't want to continue hiding, looking out the door before exiting or wondering what people might be thinking forever.” I paused. “Am I making any sense?”

“Of course,” she answered. I put my hand on her shoulder and pushed it back so that we were looking at each other.

“At the risk of sounding entirely insecure about this, I've never even been engaged before—but more than anything else in this world, I'd like you to be my wife.” There, I've done it! It's now been said and out in the open. We were definitely going in that direction anyway, but I'd never formally proposed. I wanted my intentions to be very clear! My heart was beating uncontrollably and I felt a large lump developing in my throat, about the size of a football. Katherine hugged me tighter. I thought she was beginning to cry. Perhaps my remarks came too early. Her silence was making me nervous.

“Oh, Flynn, I'd like that very much,” came her soft reply. “I'd like to be Mrs. Flynn, it sounds such a happy name, don't you think?”

“You mean yes?” I asked again.

“That's a yes, you dull-witted tarry sailor. Just in case you forgot, my reasons for coming were not just to relocate myself, you know,” she said, hugging me closer. Moments passed without either of us saying a word. All communication was with hands and fingertips as I stroked her hair, her dear face, her warm skin.

“You know, your timing is terrible,” she laughed.

“And why's that,” I asked.

“Because if you think either of us is going to get very much sleep tonight after all this, you're quite daft!” She was half weeping and I could only hold her, realising that a dream long thought about was at last coming to pass, regardless of my bad timing and terrible wording. We lay there in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity. All else seemed meaningless.

Every couple remembers that magic moment of proposal. What was said, where they were, and sometimes even what they were wearing at the time. Unfortunately, this magic moment was broken by the shrill sound of the bo'sun's pipe calling all hands to stations. The timing couldn't have been more dreadful, as Katherine had said earlier.

I apologised as I made a mad dash about the compartment, gathering my clothing and pulling on my boots. “Someday, I'll make this up to you,” I promised.

Without changing her voice she replied, “I intend to see to it!” With one further kiss, I ran to the door and down the passageway and climbed the ladder to the deck.

“What kept you?” Harris asked testily.

“I was being flung about trying to get my britches on,” I responded.

“Leave em' somewhere, did ye?” Bowman asked with studied blandness.

“I won't dignify that with a reply,” I said coldly, giving Bowman a sour look. “Nice to see you on deck again,” I added, to change the subject.

“By the way, the rain and raging seas over the deck completely saturated your room. The waves made it into a virtual shower, or hadn't you noticed?” Harris taunted.

“Actually I did notice,” I replied casually.

“Well, if I may enquire, where do you currently reside?” he asked.

“I still have my hammock, and no, you may not enquire,” I replied.

“I see. Well, silence speaks volumes, you know. It won't be long till the library is full, eh? And what do you suppose the
men
might think regarding that,” teased Harris as though going back to my comments about the lads drinking.

“Well, if anyone is really curious, we happen to be officially engaged,” I said, letting a modest note of triumph creep into my voice.

“Well, well, well. I suppose congratulations are in order,” Bowman grinned.

Harris raised his eyebrows. “It was only a matter of time,” he shrugged and stood smiling.

“Oh, of course. I'd forgotten you know everything, you great wazzock. So why the call for all hands?” I asked, removing my scarf.

“False alarm,” Harris said. “Everybody else has been told to stand down.”

“But now that you're here,” Bowman began, “give me a hand forward. I want another look at the jibs.” Harris glanced up at me quickly and motioned for me to stay close to the old man, so the two of us duly made the trip forward to the jibs. After a long study of their setting, Bowman was satisfied that everything was fine, and we walked back to the wheel.

I went below again, but this time I didn't knock on the door or even care if anyone saw. I merely slid back the panel and stepped in. Katherine was just dressing.

“How did it go?” she asked, trying to keep her balance.

“False alarm for once, and I'm very glad there was nothing more to it,” I said breathing a sigh of relief. “I say, you're up early.”

“Yes, every morning. There's bread to be baked and breakfast to get ready,” she pouted wearily.

I gave her a hug. “I told Harris and Bowman about our engagement.”

“Did you now? As if they hadn't thought that was liable to happen!”

“Harris asked where my quarters were now, but before he could talk of improprieties, I set him straight.”

Katherine rolled her eyes, “I've heard stories about Harris. Himself is hardly one to speak of improprieties! A lady or two in every port I've been told.”

“Now that you're off to your duties, I'll get some sleep,” I said.

She gave me a sleepy smile and kissed me before slipping off to the galley with a whisper, “Good night, love.”

I found myself humming a song and trying to remember the words: Good night sweetheart, see you in the morning. Good night sweetheart, happy days are dawning…till I began forgetting the words and fell asleep.

Chapter 28

SIGHTING THE BONNIE

Early next morning, I awoke to the sound of the bo'sun's pipe and the rush of feet on the deck. The course was set to take us on the long haul up into St. George's Channel. Lying awake in bed, I thought that life seemed fine and uncluttered. All that vanished when I jumped out shivering to face the day.

After the deafening and unceasing noise of the past few days, this was like a Sunday in the suburbs. As if on cue, the ship's bell struck and I looked to see it was 0600. The sun was rising in a clear sky and all seemed bright. I came up on deck to the bite of the easterly wind. If it kept up like this, we'd be home and dry in a day or two, but I felt in my bones that the wind was boxing the compass. The quick change from westerly to easterly meant that the wind and moisture from the Atlantic would start to pile the clouds into a threatening storm. Before that, we were sure to be spotted on this crystal clear day. Sufficient unto the day, I thought, and headed to the galley for hot tea and a morning kiss before presenting myself at the wheel for a stint.

Brown Bear was now settled on top of the main hatchway, sprawled out in the middle of the cork life rafts and enjoying the wind through his thick fur. Rumours were fast circulating that Boris's snoring had finally driven him out. The lads were no longer afraid of him, and he was enjoying life, with scraps from the galley along with the fish. Brown Bear would bury his muzzle between his paws and groan with pleasure whenever someone stopped to scratch him. I even saw Bowman stop to pat him. The old man looked relaxed and walked about normally as he enjoyed the sun.

I relieved Robert at the wheel to his chaffing, “I can't say you got any beauty sleep, Flynn, though you were long enough about it. I suppose I'm going to have to fish by myself if you're taking over here.”

I forgot our fishing date, but I was sure that Robert would have plenty of willing help from the boys. Harris came up with his mug of coffee to stand and chat a while. The feeling of calm was everywhere as we continued on our course north. I think we'd all given up worrying about what was to happen when we got to the shipbuilder's yard and disembarked. We'd done something worthwhile and no one had suffered from it, except possibly the two boys who'd come down with the broken yardarm.

I asked Harris how the two injured boys were coming along, and he said, “You know youngsters, in a few hours they can bounce back from something that would kill an elephant. They're all right except for a few cuts and bruises that'll be gone within a day or two.”

We were spotted at 0800 by the Fishguard ferry, which set up a series of whoops on her foghorn and changed course to run just aft of us. As she drew closer, we could see an Aldis lamp flashing from the bridge and Harris read out the message:
W-E-L-C-O-M-E B-O-N-N-I-E C-L-Y-D-E and congratulations
.
Will have to report sighting. My job if I don't
.
The whole country wants you to win
.

Boris had already brought our lamp the night before, and Harris signalled for quite a while, with a brief reply back from the ferry. By that time she'd come within fifty yards of us and early morning travellers could be seen lined up along the rails. They all seemed to be waving something; a scarf, a hat, a newspaper. I also saw one or two with cameras. We could hear faint cries as their voices were caught by the wind, but could only make out the occasional hurray or well done.

Once they'd passed, I asked Harris what he'd flashed.

He replied, “I told him that after he reported us, to please get a message through immediately to Richard. I gave him the number to call, and he flashed back
done
. As Richard says, the bond of the sea is strong. From his handling of the Aldis lamp, I'd say that captain is ex-Navy.”

Edward had been out with the rest of us while the ferry came past, and then disappeared back down to the chart room. He now came back out again with a map in his hand.

“I was after looking at the possibilities of an MTB base and really, you know, the last reasonable one was Plymouth. They were built for only one job and that was to raid the European coast and coastal shipping and get back home as fast as possible. From Plymouth to here is about 250 miles, a six-hour journey for an MTB going flat out. As the engine would probably seize up, and certainly their fuel would be long gone, it's going to be much longer than six hours.”

Looking at the map, I calculated that if the MTB travelled in our wake, they would be close to the Scilly Isles before they got a message of the sighting. They made raids on Cherbourg, Le Havre, and Dieppe during the War, but I'll bet they took along spare fuel. I turned to Harris. “Is the range of an MTB, say, about 300 miles at an average fifteen knots?”

“Probably a bit generous, but let's use it as a basis,” he suggested.

“All right, assuming that, once they knew our exact whereabouts, the captain would have to decide where to go for fuel without going too far out of the way. Fishguard, itself, is probably a bit too chancy, so it would have to be Milford Haven, say a five-hour journey from their present position. In five hours we'd be farther north by about sixty miles, a two-hour trip for them plus say half an hour for refuelling, another thirty miles for us.”

I was laughing at this as I made the calculations, and Harris and Edward were growing a bit annoyed at my merriment.

“What's so bloody funny now, Flynn?” Harris boomed. “I could do with some cheering up.”

So I told them my up-to-date version of the race of the tortoise and the hare. “They might catch up with us somewhere opposite Drogheda. If we count 300 miles as their range. Milford Haven to Drogheda is about 130 miles, and it's another 180 miles to Dumbarton. The MTB will have to refuel again at some point before we dock. What's more is,” and I couldn't keep the glee from my voice, “by the time they catch up it'll be between four and five this afternoon and not far off dark! You know how much they hate travelling at night!” All of us laughed in delight. We must have looked an odd sight, laughing and holding on to each other and slapping backs, but the arithmetic was so true. The story quickly spread round the ship and everyone enjoyed the joke of it. We were destined to get to Dumbarton, no matter what man or nature could throw at us.

The wind was still brisk but was getting warmer as it veered south, with clouds low on the southern horizon. We were seeing more ships now, mostly freighters, quite a distance off because of our position in mid-Channel. There were occasional flashing messages like
We are with you
or
Scots wha hae
, which brought a cheer from Bowman. It seemed to bear out our own hopes of the public on our side, ready to do battle with bureaucracy.

At one point a two-engine RAF plane flew over. It looked like the wartime observer-cum-light bomber, the Blenheim. I think it was on a training flight, for it did not come closer, but it waggled its wings as it flew on.

About two hours later Edward put his head out the chart room door and called, “Richard's coming through.”

This time all the officers crowded in, leaving Larry in charge of the wheel and the deck with dire warnings of what would happen if any one of a number of happenings should occur without his warning us first. He just grinned and turned to Ted, ordering, “Look lively there, I've got the wheel.”

Richard was coming through loud and clear. “
Getting spotted eventually had to happen, but it gives me a chance to scoop some good pictures. Give me your current position and heading. I've got a plane warming up in Liverpool, and the pilot is waiting for the position so that he can take off
.”

Edward quickly took the handset and read off the numbers from his chart. We could hear Richard repeating these to someone and then he came back on the air. “
The plane is painted yellow and has a big AP painted in black on the underside of the wings and fuselage. I suppose he'll be overhead in an hour and a half. Right now, have I got news for you! It seems that this story of yours has really woken up something in the soul of the average Briton and quicker than I've ever seen it. People have been writing and calling their MPs by the score, even telephoning them. Questions are tabled for tomorrow and commentators are speculating whose heads will roll. Please be careful when that MTB catches up with you, because his instructions were given to him personally by the head of my friend's department. The orders are only known to the Prime Minister and the First Sea Lord of the Admiralty! Not that I'm suggesting violence but you never can tell when politicians feel their positions threatened. Just be careful! The shipbuilder has decided he can take your side and Mr. Reith sends you his best wishes. He will be there to welcome you when you dock, or
maybe even before
were his exact words
.”

Bowman was smiling from ear to ear, feeling vindicated for his efforts. He called out, “You tell him Scots wha hae from me!”

“
Tell him yourself, you'll see him before I do
!” Richard replied. “
What next? Ah yes. I had a call from a Mr. Barnley. He's the owner of the circus. He said he was angry that he had to read about the tents in the papers. It made him feel such a fool that he hadn't known, especially in front of his wife! However, he said that to others he was able to pretend that he had a contract with you to produce a duplicate of his tents by the time he re-opens next April. He sounds the sort of fellow who will be round with a few
friends
if the
contract
is not fulfilled
.”

Richard continued, “
As regards the ship, my legal boys are divided on that one, because apparently the decisions of judges over the years haven't always agreed, but my people all concur that they think the government would be crazy to bring a prosecution, in the face of public opinion. I think that once you're on shore and we can arrange for interviews and statements in front of newsreel cameras, any undecided public opinion will quickly rally your side
.”

“Bloody hell!” Harris sputtered, seizing the handset. “You mean being on the news in the cinema?”

“
Of course
!” said Richard. “
You're going to be up to your ears in reporters and photographers, so you'd better get used to the idea. Just take the bear angle. I'm getting calls from old ladies who want to give it a good home, from zoos ditto, and the RSPCA, who insist that they want to examine the bear to make sure it's healthy. I'm sure you're going to love all this, and let me give you a word of advice. Anyone who comes wanting an exclusive story from any of you, only
give
it if you want to. Otherwise, ask money for it! Don't worry about me. I've a good contract with AP and they're quite happy with all I've done so far, and for a reporter, there's always the next story. Of course, if anyone wants you to appear in an advertisement, then he'll come to you with a contract but make sure it doesn't bind you to him exclusively for life. As for true love, I'd say you should consider running away right now because they're going to be so nosy and personal that you could easily end up hitting one or two
.”

We all sat looking at one another in bewilderment, overwhelmed with an idea of what the reality was going to be. All of us pictured a few days of excitement, questioning by the police, then we'd be able to get on with our lives. This was especially true for Katherine and me. We just wanted to arrange jobs, rent a house, and get married, without the whole world looking on.

Richard's voice came on again, “
Hey, are you there? My boss was sympathetic, but he said we simply don't have the influence that
The Times
has. So I got in touch with Martin's friend. He was happy to start digging up the dirt, especially as no one at
The Times
really cares for the new Labour government. That's all from my list. Anything from your side
?”

Bowman took the handset. “Richard, Bowman here. Ye've been active above and beyond the call of duty and ye've certainly set my mind at ease. It'll be a privilege to meet ye. Will ye be there in Dumbarton? We're estimating our time of arrival to be late afternoon tomorrow, provided we can get to Greenock in good time. From there, we're going to need a tug.”

“
I'll certainly be there, in fact I've already booked a room because I think there's going to be a shortage
,” Richard replied. “
I'm really looking forward to meeting you, Captain Bowman, and all your crew. I feel I know you all so well that it'll be like a reunion rather than a first meeting. Now I have work to do, and then to wait for the pictures to be wired down from Liverpool once the plane gets back. The photographer says he has the finest telescopic lens available. Don't forget to smile! I'll say goodbye for now and look forward to meeting you tomorrow
.”

We called out our goodbyes and sat there in silence. Bowman was like a new man, his face alight with the satisfaction of a job well done.

Bowman pointed out, “I'll be on an inspection tour within the hour and I'll expect to see every man jack working to clean this ship up. From what I see, she's become a floating pig-sty. I want her shipshape and Bristol fashion! Do I make myself clear?”

“Right,” I answered.

“See to it then!” We all stood up and saluted as he marched out.

Edward sat down in his chair and said in amazement, “Well, were you seeing that? That was Bowman. He's back! And the rest of you had better mind what you're about. His temper isn't the best, and he can scorch the ears off a man at fifty paces.”

And so it was that the AP plane found us. They took pictures of everything, sometimes flying just over the waves, sometimes coming straight at us, and sometimes slowly circling at masthead height, with the photographer standing up in the back seat and leaning out to get a better view.