Long Voyage Back (29 page)

' he said, moving on past her.

`Please, let's get Jim,' Lisa pleaded.

And they hurried on.

13

`The Battle of Cooper's Henhouse', as one rather stoned corporal had dubbed it, had a gloomy effect on the C company that had fought in it. None of them had been killed and only three of them wounded, but Captain Ames had made it all seem like a mistake. Four of the farmers had been killed - three of them teenagers - and seven wounded before the officers got the shooting to stop. The henhouse had burned down, but most of the chickens had escaped. The soldiers had had more trouble rounding up the chickens and hogs than they had had winning the battle. Ames had radioed for an ambulance for all the wounded but was told to bring them back in the trucks. With the farm animals and wounded taking up two of the trucks, most of the company had to march back the fifteen miles to Morehead City.

Tony Mariano was a member of C company and he was goddamn angry at Ames and some of the others. He knew the farmers had started the shooting because the first shot had hit five feet away from Tony himself. And even before the soldiers had fired a single shot, one of the men in his squad had been hit as they were running forward to hide behind a big fallen tree trunk about thirty feet from the back of the henhouse. So if a few farmers had got killed they had only themselves to blame. Ames going around trying to find out who had advanced without orders was a waste of time. But though Tony thought his company's actions were justified, he still found the whole business as unpleasant as most of the others. Tony himself had been wounded in the left side, but was laughed at by the other soldiers when the corpsman who examined the wound and extracted the bullet announced that it was a pellet from a pellet gun.

`Hey, Mariano,' his Corporal had shouted at him. 'Aren't pellet guns outlawed by the Geneva Convention?' and the whole squad had laughed. Tony had seen the fifteen-yearold who had been killed: the young body and face chewed up by at least three slugs from someone's automatic rifle. Tony hadn't killed him - at least he didn't think he had - but he had sure blasted the henhouse pretty good before Sergeant Collins had yanked the gun out of his hand and shouted at him to stop.

By the time he had marched back to Morehead it was almost seven o'clock and he, like the rest, was exhausted and starved and filthy from wrestling with the hogs and chickens. In the mess-hall they were served another meal of fish and eggs, but with two or three cans of beer for each man, thank God. Jim Stoor was there and he told Jim about the battle, trying to show that it was a serious and necessary business, but he could see that Jim was appalled. God-damn it, there was a war on!

At eight, when a soldier told Jim that Frank and Neil were outside, Tony went along to see what was up.

Frank and Neil were standing in the dusk at the side of the restaurant that was their evening's mess-hall. Frank quickly explained to his son about their decision to try to take Vagabond back out to sea.

:I'm coming,' said Jim.

`What the fuck,' Tony burst in. 'You're deserting? And you, Neil, how come you're not in uniform?'

`Wrong war,' said Neil, echoing his friend's words. 'Do you want to join us?'

Tony looked at Neil uncertainly, his loyalty to his country battling with the fear aroused by seeing others fleeing an approaching danger. 'I'm no deserter,' he finally said sullenly. Neil turned away. 'Let's go,' he said.

`Hold it!' Tony shouted. 'If you take Jim now I'll be an accessory or something.'

The other three stopped and turned to face him.

Ìf everyone acted as selfishly as you guys our society would be doomed,' Tony continued aggressively. 'It's my duty to report your plans to my superiors.'

`Come with us,' Neil said gently.

`You won't make it,' Tony countered. 'The Coast Guard won't let you out to sea. Don't go, Jim. They're shooting deserters.'

Ì was going to desert even if there weren't fallout coming,' Jim said. 'Im going.'

Ì'm not letting you guys . . .' Tony began, but then Neil's fist slammed into the side of his face. He staggered backwards into darkness.

14

The night was overcast as Neil had hoped, although on the northern horizon a few stars could be seen indicating an approaching high pressure system. With the wind blowing out of the east at fifteen knots the passage out of the inlet would be rough. By midnight they were putting the plan they'd developed into execution. Conrad Macklin had stolen a small abandoned fishing vessel named Moonchaser and stolen enough fuel to get it to where Neil wanted. They had tied and tacked Vagabond's blue carpets along her white port sides and decking to reduce glare and the chances of being seen by the Coast Guard's searchlight. They had even packed mud on the left side of the lower masts to cut down reflection there.

Neil and Jim were aboard the fishing smack, which was towing Vagabond's inflatable dinghy with its outboard motor tilted up. Frank was in charge of the trimaran, with Olly, Macklin, Jeanne, and Lisa as crew. Skippy was asleep in the port berth, Katya was on call, and Tony was tied up in the forepeak.

Neil had taken Tony back to the docks because he'd feared that he would get the authorities to investigate Vagabond. He had planned to leave Tony behind at the last minute, but Macklin had argued vehemently that Tony might still have them chased, and, besides, was the best sailor they had for a long voyage. When Frank agreed, Neil decided they could abandon Tony in the Bahamas if he wanted off or didn't work out. The escape plan was for Neil and Jim to scuttle Moonchaser on the eastern side of the inlet - at Shackleford Point - to draw the patrol launch over, while Vagabond would motor along the

western side of the inlet a quarter of a mile away, pick up Neil and Jim who would motor the width of the inlet in the dinghy to join them, and rush out to sea. As Neil steered the sluggish Moonchaser towards the inlet a light rain began to fall. Neil had decided that he and Jim should take the decoy vessel both because he had confidence they could do the job and because if Vagabond were seen and stopped, without him and Jim aboard the Coast Guard might let the ship proceed to sea, simply removing the deserter Tony. Of course he hadn't told Macklin or Tony this line of thought. As he brought Moonchaser to within three-quarters of a mile of the patrol path of the cutter he realized that with the rain falling he could no longer depend on seeing the unlighted buoys and stakes that he'd planned to use to stay out of the main channel to avoid being spotted. He'd have to stay in the main channel, hoping the rain would so cut visibility that he could get the old fishing smack scuttled before the Coast Guard came close enough to see them motoring off in the dinghy.

Jim stood beside him in the little wheelhouse, his face wet with rain from peering around the salt-streaked window trying to pick up the channel buoys and look for signs of shoal water. He could barely make out the flashing red light of the next channel marker, and beyond that he could see neither the running lights nor searchlight of the Coast Guard patrol. Neil was keeping Moonchaser to the left of the main channel, motoring slowly forward against the incoming tide. Then, at a little after one, he opened up the throttle and headed for Shackleford Point and the planned scuttling. Jim still saw no clear sign of the Coast Guard except for brief flashes of white which Neil said were the searchlight. The wind had picked up and seemed to be blowing the rain and seaspray directly into his face. Although it was a warm rain he was shivering. He had on a foul-weather jacket, but his legs were bare and cold beneath his swimsuit. Then he saw what Neil had said would be the last two lighted buoys before the Point: 'a flashing red and a flashing green'. He had to yell now over the noise of the engine to tell Neil.

Ì'll take us just to port of the red one,' Neil shouted back. `Get its number. And watch for the cutter.'

They seemed to approach the blinking red light on the red bell with aggravating slowness, but once there Neil steered to within a few feet of the loud mournful gonging and Jim verified that it had '16' painted white on its red. Almost the moment he looked forward again after they'd passed the bell, he saw the green starboard running light and sweeping searchlight of the cutter. It seemed to be a quarter ofa mile off in the blackness and wet wind, almost dead ahead. It was moving west across the channel - away from Shackleford Banks.

Jim shouted this to Neil who brought Moonchaser to a complete halt in the water, waiting while the cutter moved further west away from them. Once the light swept in their direction and over the smack, but rapidly, without pausing. Though the glare temporarily blinded Jim, the cutter apparently didn't notice the black hull. Jim saw Neil look at his watch, grimace, and increase the ship's speed. The rain was becoming sporadic, but the wind was gusty and blew in sweeping bursts of spray against the windshield. Ocean swells were now creating a pitching motion in the boat as they approached the open water of the ocean.

In another two minutes the cutter was a little more than halfway across the inlet and still heading for the far side. Neil gave the boat full throttle, his face in tense concentration, and Moonchaser pounded forward at seven knots into the tide and ocean swells. The ship rose and smashed down on one big swell that seemed to emerge out of the darkness like some living sea mammal to lift them momentarily and then toss them back into the water. Jim was thrown hard against the control panel and Neil was swung around - still holding the wheel - to bang against the ship's coaming.

`We may really need that Mayday,' he shouted with a grim

smile. Jim, shivering, felt a fearful exhilaration. He peered ahead and could see two flashing white lights one after another - the lights of a range that normally guided ships down the centre of the channel, but that Neil would use to guide them on to the sands of Shackleford Bank. The Coast Guard cutter was off to the right some place, but Jim couldn't pick it up.

`Bring the dinghy up closer,' Neil shouted to him, and Jim stumbled aft, falling against the stern coaming when Moonchaser plunged into another swell. Righting himself, he hauled in the towline to the dinghy until it was only a few feet - off the stern of the fishing smack where he re-cleated it. Returning forward he stared again into the rain and blackness, and realized Neil was easing the boat towards shore.

`Hold on!' he shouted. 'Here we go!'

With a harsh grating sound, the fishing vessel ran aground, slowing at first and then, as Neil killed the engine, stopping abruptly. Jim grabbed the deckhouse shelf and held on, looking to Neil for orders. As Moonchaser seemed to sit contentedly in the sand, Jim turned to get into the dinghy; a wave smashed broadside into the ship with a tremendous crash. Jim was flung to port into Neil and the two men smashed into the side of the deckhouse, then against the coaming, and then they were in the sea. It happened so suddenly and the chill water of the ocean was such a shock that Jim didn't at first realize clearly what had happened. He was standing in four feet of water that suddenly became seven feet of water when a swell surged past.

`Get the dinghy!' Neil shouted from off to the left. Jim could barely make out the ship heeled over in the surf a few feet away in front of him, but he struggled to her stern and felt for the rubber dinghy. It was there, bobbing and tearing at her towline like a wild horse. As he reached for it, the end of the protruding outboard struck him on the shoulder. He swore, reached again to control the dinghy and was submerged by a huge swell that slapped him in the face like a lazy porpoise flipping its tail. He spat out salt water and felt a sudden panic. He couldn't get the dinghy. It danced away from him, then swung its engine shaft at him like a club.

`Cut the line!' Neil shouted, appearing beside him and handing him a knife. Jim swam the few feet to Moonchaser's stern and pulled himself up and slashed the towline. In an instant the inflatable pulled its line out of Jim's grasp, surged away on a breaking wave and was swallowed up into the darkness.

`GET IT!' Neil screamed, and Jim plunged away after it.

`Mayday! Mayday!' Olly's voice crackled urgently into Vagabond's radio-telephone as Frank stood by, operating it. `Damn engine went and killed himself. I'm aground on Shackleford Point. Mayday! Mayday! Do you read me? Over.'

Frank switched to receive, deciding that Captain Olly's unprofessional way of sending a Mayday was probably more credible than the scenario he himself had planned. He leaned backwards to look up at Macklin in the wheelhouse who was assigned to hold Vagabond motoring steadily into the tide barely inching forward. He nodded at him in reassurance.

`Roger, Mayday,' a distant static voice said from the radio. `This is the Coast Guard station at Fort Macon acknowledging Mayday. Identify yourself and your position. Repeat: identify your vessel and your position . . . Over.'

Frank switched the button and nodded at Captain Olly.

`This is Cap' n Olly,' he said irritably. `Moonchaser is banging on the beach here at Shackleford Point and getting swamped. I'm at Shackleford Point just south of the range. My ship is beginning to . . .' Captain 01ly banged his fist down on the radio table and shouted: Jesus! Help! We're foundering! Help!'

Frank cut the switch and they listened for the Coast Guard response.

`This is Fort Macon Coast Guard calling Moonchaser,' the voice said with more urgency.

'Please repeat position and clarify position. Over.'

Frank shook his head 'no' to Captain Olly and kept the button switched to receive. After twenty seconds, the voice came through again.

`This is the Coast Guard calling the Moonchaser. We have received your Mayday. Will send assistance. Do you read me? Over.'

Frank shifted the dial on his receiver off the frequency reserved for distress calls to the one he knew the Coast Guard usually used for routine transmission among their vessels. For twenty seconds there was nothing, but finally the same voice crackled out calling the cutter, Avenger. After they had established contact the voice said: À vessel named Moonchaser radioed a Mayday. Ship reports being aground and foundering off Shackleford Point. Can you provide assistance? Over?'