Authors: Jim Newell
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Action & Adventure, #Thriller
When they finally got out of bed, the wind had risen to the point where the house was reacting to the strong gusts of wind, the rain blasting against the east side along with the wind. Toby automatically went to the window to check the light to make sure it was working as it should be. Reassured, he turned to his wife who was standing at the kitchen counter wearing nothing but her housecoat, looking at the counter.
“What’s for supper?”
“I was just considering. How about pancakes?” I have just enough maple syrup left for one more meal for us.”
“Sounds good. Have you got that on the grocery list?” She phoned her shopping list to the supermarket in Yarmouth once a month and her order was delivered to the Transport Department hangar at the airport.
“Uh-huh. But the chopper probably won’t make it here tomorrow.”
“Or the next day either if it gets called out for search.”
“I hope that won’t happen. Who would be out in this storm?”
“Allie, honey, there are always fishermen willing to take a chance. You never know who might have gone out hoping to get back before the storm hit.”
The storm raged all the next day and then, the wind having backed around to the north west as the low pressure system moved eastward, blew itself out during the night. Toby was up at his usual daylight hour to shut down the light a half hour later, and then began his daily walk around the island. He saw very little damage, just some areas of the shoreline rearranged by the heavy waves that were still pounding on the east side of the island. There was a good amount of driftwood scattered around and he stopped to pick up what he could reach and throw it back on the shore far enough that the waves wouldn’t pull it out to sea again. When it was dry, he would gather it for firewood for the living room fireplace that they would begin to use in a month or so. Just as he was about to change direction and move southward, he saw something else.
The badly shattered bow of what was most likely a Cape Island fishing boat, green with a white stripe running fore and aft, was banging on the rocks with each incoming wave. The section was probably about ten feet long. Where the rest of the Cape Islander was located he had no realistic idea, but he guessed that it would either still be floating or lying on the ocean floor somewhere east of the island. As he got closer to the wreck, his heart gave a jump. He knew that boat. He could see the name painted on the side of the bow:
The Smitty II
. The longliner belonged to Allison’s father.
He slithered down the wet rocks and found a six-foot section of rope hanging over the starboard side. Pulling with all his strength, he managed to get the bow up over the rocks onto the land. The effort wore him out, so he sat down on the side of the remains of the craft to rest and to think. How would he tell his wife? Straight out, he decided. There wasn’t any other way. He would also have to call the Department of Transport and report the loss of the craft and get a search going, hopefully for the crew, but more likely for bodies. Depending on where they had foundered, they could have been in the water for hours, and nobody could survive for long in the cold North Atlantic water and high seas. The best he could hope for would be that they would be wearing immersion suits and have got into an inflatable life raft, but the storm had been so intense that he didn’t hold out much hope for the success of such an event.
Slowly, he got up and continued his walk. He hoped that he might find more of
The Smitty II
washed up on the shore. That was not to be. He finished his circular check of the shore in about twenty minutes and walked slowly into the house where Allison was just getting out of bed. Her tousled blonde hair and sleepy eyes made her even more beautiful and her welcoming smile crushed his already heavy heart.
“Bad news, darling.” He took her in his arms and held her close.
“What? What did you find, Toby dear?”
“Allie, I found the forward part of
The Smitty II
washed up on the shore.”
For several moments she made no sound. Then she whispered, “No.” She pulled herself tighter into his arms and buried her head against his chest. “No. Not Dad.”
“’Fraid so. He must have been out and got caught in the storm.” He held her as she began to shake. “I’m sorry Allie, dear. So terribly sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
“That will kill Mom. She has always been afraid that it would happen to him some time.” She began to cry, the hard sobs shaking her and tears soaking his shirt. He led her back to the bed and helped her lie down. He stroked her hair, her back and made murmuring sounds to let her know he loved her and felt terrible for her and her family.
After a few minutes, he got up and went to the office to pass the news to the Yarmouth office where a search for the bodies of the crew would begin. Then he called the pastor of the Smith’s church in Barrington Passage to tell him of his discovery so that he could go to the survivors of the crew members. Douglas Campbell, the Pastor, didn’t know how many crew there had been on the fishing boat, but guessed three, the usual number, and Toby agreed with him.
Hanging up, he returned to Allison. She was lying quietly on the bed, all wrung out from crying for the time being. When she saw him enter the bedroom, she began to get up.
“Will you make some coffee, honey?” she asked. “I’m going to have a shower. Then I’ll have to call my mother.”
“She will know by now, or at least very soon. I called Reverend Campbell. I don’t know whether the chopper can stop in to pick you up and take you to Yarmouth today or not. They’re out searching.”
Allison nodded, but said nothing and disappeared into the bathroom. The water started running in the shower. An artesian drilled well not far from the house provided a good source of water, hard, but drinkable and in good supply so that there was no special need to take care to conserve the supply.
Toby didn’t listen to the conversation between mother and daughter, but he saw that Allison was crying when she came out to the kitchen, not the great racking sobs she had had earlier, but tears that welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She reached for a tissue and then another. She sat down at the table and sipped from the mug of coffee Toby had poured for her.
“How was your mother?”
“Shocked. Upset. About what you would expect. Apparently Dad went out early in the morning, planning to be back by mid afternoon, but he didn’t make it.”
“Must have had an engine failure or else the storm arrived at wherever he was fishing quite a while before it got here.”
“Could he have got into a raft in an immersion suit?”
“I hope so. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Toby turned on the kitchen radio, set it to the South Shore radio station to get the latest news. The storm was the lead story and the newscaster said that three boats were reported missing and that a Liberian-registered freighter had been damaged and was awaiting a tow to Halifax. There were several planes from the air force in the air searching for wreckage and possible crew members, either survivors or bodies. When the news was over, Toby left the radio on, but turned the volume way down. He and Allison didn’t need rock music right then.
Somehow, they got through the day. There was no word, either good or bad. Allison didn’t want to leave the house in case somebody contacted them with news. Late in the morning, Toby put the windmill back into operation and shut down the diesel. All he found when he walked around the island was more driftwood. The waves were beginning to slacken in height and intensity and the sun was attempting to shine through the rapidly thinning overcast. He made lunch of ham and tomato sandwiches, but neither was hungry. He offered to prepare supper, but neither really wanted food and finally, about ten o’clock they went to bed. He held his wife in his arms as usual, stroking and kissing her hair, until she finally drifted off to sleep. It took Toby a couple of hours before he also fell asleep but the sleep was fitful. When it was finally daylight, he got up without disturbing Allison and went to the lighthouse as usual to shut off the light, and then proceeded on his daily tour of the island, hoping without success to find more debris from
The Smitty II
.
He kept himself busy with small chores throughout the morning, checking on Allison several times. She was coping better this morning than she had been doing yesterday as the idea of her father’s probable death sunk in. She didn’t talk much, but she did smile the second time he entered the kitchen where she was sitting by the radio.
“I love you Toby,” she said, getting up and coming to him. He hugged her tightly. “Thank you for being understanding.”
He had no words to offer. He kissed her, held her for several minutes, then returned to whatever he could find to do outside. She went to the satellite phone and called her mother. That was a mistake. Irene was not taking the news well.
About four o’clock in the afternoon, the sound of the approaching helicopter brought both Toby and Allison out to the landing pad. The chopper was flying in from the east and the fact that it was preparing to land did not bode good news. Luke Hepburn, the pilot, got out from the right hand side, moving slowly. The look on his face told them the story.
“Allison, I’m sorry. We found your father and one crew member. Their bodies are on board. Do you want to come to Yarmouth with us?”
Tears flooded her eyes again. All she could do was nod her head, and then she fled back to the house.
“Where’d you find them?” asked Toby.
“About twenty miles directly east of here. Looks like they got into the life raft, but it was empty and floating upside down. They were floating nearby. No sign of the third man. Captain Smith and a crewman whose name we don’t know were wearing neither life jackets nor immersion suits. They couldn’t have lasted very long. No sign of the boat, either.”
“I’ll go up and help Allie pack. Won’t take too long. You guys want coffee or food?”
“No. We’re fine thanks. Take your time. If we get off by five we’ll be okay.”
It took about half an hour for Allison to emerge from the house. Toby carried her suitcase and the crewman stowed it on the chopper. Toby kissed her with considerable passion and helped her aboard.
“She’s not going to sit in the back with the bodies all alone, is she?” He asked Hepburn.
“No, Ed will put her in the jump seat just behind Terry and me. We’ll bring her back when she’s ready to come. Will you have somebody to meet her in Yarmouth?”
“I’ll call my Dad. He’ll be there.”
With that, the pilot got back into the helicopter. Terry Jenkins, the co-pilot, had already started the engine. In two minutes the machine rose into the air and headed south west. Toby stood and watched.
The helicopter cleared the shoreline and then the engine sputtered and stopped. The pilot clearly intended to turn back but he had no time or height to make it and Toby stood in horror as the craft plunged into the water on its left side, sank, floated to the surface and then began to settle again.
CHAPTER THREE
After the fact of the crash had sunk into his brain, about thirty seconds following the shock made itself felt, Toby turned and ran full tilt to the shed where the Zodiac sat ready on its dolly, outboard engine installed and ready to run. Panting with exertion, he ran to the shore, pulling the dolly behind him. He waded out into the water until the craft floated. Then he jumped into the Zodiac, pushed the starter and the outboard roared into life. He was thankful that he always kept the motor ready for instant use and even more thankful that he saw a blonde head bobbing in the water, a helmeted figure close to her. The pilot was standing partly inside the open cockpit door, balanced on something, likely the side of his seat, obviously helping the co-pilot to exit the sinking craft. As a passing thought he reckoned that one or more of the big blades must be temporarily holding the chopper from totally immersing itself in the cold ocean water.
Ed Harrison, the crewman, for that was who was swimming close to Allison, helped Toby get her into the boat. This was no easy task because Allison was not a small woman and was struggling, unaware that someone was trying to help her. She was obviously in shock, panicking and of course, very cold from the icy water. Finally, with Toby pulling and Ed pushing as best he could while swimming in the cold choppy water, they got her on board. Then Toby helped Ed climb over the side. He was wearing an orange immersion suit and was not cold except for his hands and face. Toby gunned the motor for a few seconds and nudged the Zodiac up to the forward part of the helicopter. Ed stood up, working hard to keep his balance, while Toby kept nudging the craft close to the rapidly settling helicopter. Eventually they helped Luke bring Terry out. Terry was obviously hurt, favoring his left arm and shoulder. Once the two pilots were in the boat, Toby headed for shore at top speed. He and Ed dragged the inflatable up on the rocky shore as far as they could and then headed for the house, Toby half carrying Allison, Luke and Ed assisting Terry.
Once inside the house, Toby got Allison to the bathroom, stripped the wet clothes from her and got her in a tub of water, slightly more than lukewarm, but not yet hot. As he was doing this, he kept up a constant flow of chatter to his wife.
“You’re going to be okay, Allie dear. The water will warm you up. Everyone got out safely. Things will be all right. Just lie here in the water and relax. You’re going to be all right, honey.”
She was more in danger from shock than from the cold. Although she had not been wearing an immersion suit, she had had a life jacket and had not been in the water long enough to be affected greatly by hypothermia. After seeing that she was all right for the moment, he went back to the kitchen where the men were stripping off their immersion suits, boots and sox.
“I’ll get some towels in just a minute,” he told them. “I want to get a steaming kettle going for Allie first.”
He filled the electric kettle, took it to the bathroom and after plugging it in, set the kettle on the toilet seat cover. In a couple of minutes it would start sending off steam to help Allison breathe more easily and help clear away from her sinuses the cold air she had been breathing. Then he grabbed some bath towels and took them out to the three aircrew in the kitchen. Terry was sitting in a chair, holding his left shoulder.