The Lost Years (6 page)

The crew evacuating the stricken vessel seemed to be in a state of panic. Watched by the onlookers onshore, one of the ship’s boats dropped in a lop-sided manner from its davits, pitching the occupants into the sea. It remained dangling vertically from a single davit, dipping into the sea with each roll of the stricken ship.

Due to the conditions there were no fishing boats in the immediate vicinity. Those that were at sea were working in the more sheltered waters of nearby St Austell Bay, out of sight of the drama taking place off Mevagissey.

A couple of seamen still remained on deck, but boats from the burning vessel were putting as much distance between themselves and the stricken ship as possible, the crews hauling on their oars with considerable urgency.

‘What is happening?’ queried Arabella. ‘Why aren’t they trying to save the rest of the men on board?’

Those about them seemed as mystified as Arabella, but her questions were answered in an horrific manner only minutes later.

A loud explosion rent the air, the sound- bouncing back from the cliffs around the small fishing village. At the same time, timbers from the barque were flung high into the air, pursued by hungry flames. As debris rained down it was apparent the ship’s boats had not succeeded in putting sufficient distance between themselves and the ship.

They disappeared inside a swirling cloud of smoke, and some of the Mevagissey women and children screamed.

In a distressed voice, Arabella cried, ‘What’s happened? Why did it explode like that?’

‘The ship was obviously carrying explosives,’ Perys replied grimly. ‘The crew must have known. That’s why they were trying so desperately to get away.’

The water around the explosion had settled now and the smoke was drifting away, borne out into the bay by the wind. Those onshore caught only a fleeting glimpse of the fore section of the ship as it slid beneath the surface of the water. All that remained was a vast area covered with debris.

Yet, by some quirk of fate, one of the ship’s boats was still afloat.

Men who had been watching from the shore now ran to the harbour, hauling on ropes to bring moored vessels of varying sizes to the quayside. At the same time a cry went up for any man who could handle an oar to man the boats.

‘Morwenna . . . you and Arabella stay right here. I’m going to help.’

Without waiting for a response from the two young women, Perys ran to where three men were hauling in a boat that could have accommodated a crew of six. When it bumped against the stone harbourside the men jumped into it and Perys went with them.

Looking critically at Perys and the manner of his dress, one of the men asked, ‘Do you know anything about crewing a boat?’

‘I did some rowing at school.’

This was an understatement. He had been stroke oarsman in the most successful eights the school had ever known.

‘This isn’t a school outing on some inland river - ’

‘Shut up!’ This from the oldest of the three men. ‘He’ll do.’

As they were pushing the boat off from the harbour wall another two men jumped on board, providing a full crew.

Speed in reaching the scene of the foundered ship was essential and the six men bent their backs to the task of propelling themselves through the water as fast as was humanly possible.

Despite his prowess in the school eights, Perys had difficulty keeping up with the others. Even so, they quickly overhauled a couple of smaller boats which had put out before them, and were soon among the floating wreckage of ship and cargo. It was there they plucked their first survivor from the sea.

The man had suffered an injury to his left arm. Clinging to a large piece of timber, he was close to exhaustion, but he possessed enough strength to scream when his injured arm was banged against the side as he was hauled inside the boat.

Suddenly, something attracted Perys’s attention in the water. He stopped rowing, causing the oars on his side of the boat to foul each other.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ demanded the fisherman who had queried Perys’s ability to man an oar.

‘I saw something in the water . . . over there.’ He pointed to a confused tangle of sail and rigging from the stricken vessel.

‘It’s just wreckage,’ said another of the crewmen, then, ‘Look! There’s someone in the water, up ahead.’

The fishermen took up their oars again, but amidst the tangle of rigging close to the boat Perys was certain he had seen a man’s head momentarily rise clear of the water before disappearing once more beneath the surface. Further argument with the others would only waste precious time. Kicking off his shoes, Perys stood up and dived into the water.

It was cold enough to take his breath away and as he came to the surface he was aware of the angry shouts of the men he had just abandoned so dramatically.

Reaching the spot where he had seen the head, Perys dived beneath the wreckage. He touched something that moved, but was forced to the surface before he could be certain. Drawing in a deep breath, he dived again. This time he found the body of a man, but when he tried to take it with him to the surface, he realised it was entangled in rigging.

He struggled to free the man, but did not succeed until he had almost exhausted all the air he had taken in and it felt as though his lungs would burst. Then, with the inert body in his arms, he kicked out for the surface.

When he emerged with his burden, the men in the boat put up a shout of encouragement. A few minutes later the seaman was taken from him, then Perys was hauled into the boat to the congratulations of the crew.

Perys feared his rescue attempt had been in vain, but, laid face down over one of the thwarts, the rescued man had his back pummelled by one of the crew and he suddenly coughed. Water gushed from his mouth and his whole body twitched . . . He was alive.

Soon afterwards, Perys and his fellow crew-men rescued another two men, while the Mevagissey lifeboat rescued others, by which time a number of fishing boats had arrived, drawn to the scene by the sound of the explosion.

In addition to the partly drowned man, one of the other crewmen was badly injured. The oldest man in the Mevagissey boat, who had assumed command, said, ‘There are enough boats out here to carry on the search now, we’ll get these men back to shore.’

The lifeboat coxwain had been of the same opinion he was already taking his boat back to the harbour. The boat in which Perys was a crewman followed behind.

The seamen sat huddled quietly together as the boat headed back towards the harbour, the more seriously injured man rocking backwards and forwards, as though by so doing he might lessen his pain.

The men spoke sufficient English to give their nationality as Russian, but they were unable to tell their rescuers anything else.

When the boat bumped against a flight of stone steps built into the wall of Mevagissey’s outer harbour, a number of young boys eagerly secured it while older men helped the survivors ashore.

The injured men were taken to the lifeboat station, which had been turned into a temporary first aid post. There, Perys, his clothes dripping water, was surprised to find Morwenna capably assisting the local doctor. With her was a pale-faced Arabella.

CHAPTER 9

Miraculously, only three members of the unfortunate barque’s crew died in the explosion which wrecked their ship, but many were injured. Morwenna and the local doctor were kept busy until help arrived from the St Austell Hospital, summoned to Mevagissey by a telephone appeal from the local coastguard.

Despite being urged to go home and change out of his wet clothes, Perys remained until Morwenna was ready to return to Heligan. She left Mevagissey with the warm thanks of the doctor ringing in her ears for the important part she had played in the dramatic rescue of the Russian seamen.

As they made their way back to Heligan House, Perys said, wryly, ‘That was rather more excitement than we expected to find when we set out this morning.’

‘It was indeed!’ Morwenna agreed. ‘Did I hear one of the fishermen say that if you ever decided to take up fishing he would be happy to have you in his crew?’

‘Yes,’ Perys said. Holding out his hands, he added, sheepishly, ‘but he hadn’t seen these.’ He extended his fingers to reveal a mess of bloody blisters and torn skin.

‘Perys!’ Arabella was horrified. ‘They are awful! You must be in agonies of pain - as well as uncomfortably wet.’

‘You should have showed your hands to me when we were in the village.’ Morwenna chided. ‘I could have treated them there.’

‘I would have felt foolish.’ Perys confessed. ‘There were far more serious injuries for you to deal with - and I thought you dealt with them magnificently. Where did you learn such skills?’

‘Morwenna has spent two years working as a nurse in a hospital in London.’ Arabella answered proudly for her sister. ‘I’ll be going there when we return home. It’s become a family tradition, following in the footsteps of Great Aunt Florence.’

‘Great-Aunt Florence?’ Perys wondered whether the name should mean something to him.

‘Florence Nightingale.’ Morwenna explained. ‘She is related to us on Mother’s side of their family. She was responsible for making nursing respectable profession during the Crimean War. Unfortunately, in so doing she managed to upset a great many senior army officers, so when you join the army it might not be a good idea to boast of the family connection. But we need to get you to Heligan and out of those wet clothes. Before we do that let’s see how many handkerchiefs we can muster between us to clean up your hand and bind them up until we reach home and I am able to deal with them properly . . .’

They managed to find three handkerchiefs between them and Morwenna used the smallest to wash his hands clean before binding the other two around them to protect the painful broken blisters.

As she worked, Perys said, ‘Florence Nightingale would have been proud of the work you have done today.’

‘I think she would have felt the same about many of the Mevagissey women,’ Morwenna said. Giving Perys a look he could not interpret, she added, ‘Eliza Dunn among them.’

Not particularly interested, Perys asked, ‘Oh? When did she return to the village?’

‘Late last night. It seems she came back from Liskeard as soon as word reached her of her father’s accident. She asked me to thank you for the part you played in rescuing him - and for going to visit him yesterday. You and Annie Bray.’

Aware of the implied disapproval, Perys said, ‘Yes, Annie took a basket of food to him from her mother.’

‘I believe Annie is a very pretty girl,’ said Morwenna, seemingly disinclined to drop the matter.

‘I suppose she is.’ Perys felt angry with himself for feeling there was a need to justify visiting Henry Dunn in company with Annie, but he was aware that if he explained the circumstances of his first meeting with her it might cause unnecessary trouble for Martin.

He was saved from further explanations by the sight of one of the Heligan gardeners hurrying along the path towards the village.

When the man reached them, he spoke breathlessly to Perys, seemingly oblivious of the other’s wet condition. ‘I’m on my way to Mevagissey to speak to the coastguard. Have you heard the news?’

Thinking the gardener was talking about the foundering of the ship in the bay, Perys replied ‘About the wreck of the Russian ship? Yes, we’ve all been involved in the rescue of the crew.’

‘No, not that,’ said the excited garden ‘something far more serious. Mrs Tremayne had just had a telephone call from someone in London. Germany has invaded Belgium. Our government has given them until midnight tonight to withdraw their troops.’

‘What if they refuse?’ Morwenna asked anxiously.

‘Then we’ll go to war with them,’ said the gardener. ‘No doubt they will do as they’re told but there’s many folk who hope they don’t. It’s about time we taught ’em a lesson they won’ forget in a hurry.’

‘What will the coastguard be able to do about it?’ Perys asked, uncertain what the import of the gardener’s news was likely to be.

‘The Tremayne boat is in the harbour right now. Mrs Tremayne thinks that if there is likely to be any trouble the boat will be safer in Tregiskey Cove.’

A boat-house belonging to Heligan House was situated in Tregiskey Cove, just around the coast from the fishing village. Perys doubted whether such a move was really necessary. The small fishing harbour of Mevagissey was hardly likely to be the target of an attack in the event of a war between Great Britain and Germany. But the Heligan employee seemed to regard his errand as being of great importance and Perys kept his thoughts to himself.

‘You’d better be on your way - although I doubt whether you’ll find anyone interested in moving the Tremayne boat right now,’ he said. ‘When we left Mevagissey all the able-bodied men were at sea, salvaging what they could from the Russian ship.’

When the gardener had gone, Morwenna asked, ‘What does it all mean, Perys? I mean, what the gardener was saying? What will actually happen if the Germans refuse to leave Belgium by midnight?’

‘I suppose we will go to war,’ Perys replied. ‘Though I doubt very much if it will come to that. The Germans have threatened war on more than one occasion. They will back down when they realise our government means what it says. Mind you, if there is a war I should be able to get into the army far more quickly than I expected - then into the Royal Flying Corps. They will want all the men they can get.’ Echoing the earlier thoughts of Maude, he added, ‘The trouble is, all the excitement will probably be over before I even start my training . . .’

* * *

‘. . . It would be downright foolish to underestimate the Germans and their army. They laid their plans for a war very carefully many years ago. We will beat them eventually, of course, but it will be a bitter struggle while it lasts. This is a sad day for all the countries involved.’

In the sitting-room at Heligan, Maude was holding forth. Now in dry clothes, Perys was acutely aware of his heavily bandaged hands. Such an inconvenience could hardly have come at a more inopportune time. Nevertheless, he would not allow it to interfere with his plans.