Trustee From the Toolroom (23 page)

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Authors: Nevil Shute

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Jack Donelly answered, 'Hilo.'

'You're not going any farther?'

'Just to Hilo.'

'You've got to get clearance if you go outside the group.'

'Don't need no clearance for Hilo.'

. 'No,' the officer admitted. 'All you need is just pay fourteen dollars and fifty cents.'

'What we got to pay that for?'

'Harbour dues, Captain.'

'Jeez. I wasn't in the harbour more 'n a week.'

'Nine days,' the officer said. 'Your size makes one fifty each day, plus tax. Makes fourteen dollars fifty.'

' I dunno as I've got it.'

'Then you'll come right back and tell the Judge about it. Come on, Captain - I got things to do.'

Grumbling, Jack left the helm and went below and from some secret store unearthed the money. The officer reached out a little fishing net on a bamboo for it and passed back the receipt in the same way. The launch sheered off, put on speed, turned around, and made off back towards the harbour.

Keith asked timidly, 'Where's Hilo?'

' On Hawaii. They make all lands of trouble if you say you're going foreign.'

He let draw the jib and the main, and got the vessel on her course again. 'You sick yet?' he asked.

'Not yet,' said Keith.

' Come 'n take the helm a while and I'll show you.'

Keith came to the tiller, held by a turn of light rope round it from a cleat upon the bulwark, the rope held in the hand. He sat down on the deck as he had seen Jack sit. 'Keep looking at the card,' he said. He laid a dirty finger on the glass of the binnacle. 'That black line, that's the lubber line 'n that goes with the ship. The card, with all them black marks on it, that moves against the lubber line the way you pull the tiller. You see the big thin diamond? Well, not that one but the one next to it; the tiddy-little triangle. Not the big triangle, the tiddy little 'un. Keep her about there.'

Keith put on his glasses to inspect the binnacle and picked out the tiny numerals, remembered from his navigational instruction, and so identified the tiddy little triangle. He settled down to try and steer the ship, and became engrossed in it. Jack watched him for a time, and then went down and lit die Primus stove. He made a jug of coffee while. Keith steered and the island of Oahu grew less distinct behind them, and presently passed up on deck a cup of coffee, a great hunk of corned beef out of a tin, and two inch thick slices of bread. 'You okay?' he asked. 'So far,'said Keith.

Jack Donelly grunted.' Guess I'll have a bit of a lie down,' he said.

Keith was alarmed.' What will I do if anything happens ?' he asked.

164

'Aw, nothing's going to happen,' said the captain. He sat by the galley at the foot of the ladder contentedly eating bread and beef. Then, without ever looking out on deck, he went forward and lay down upon the lee berth, which was Keith's, and went to sleep.

Keith sat at the helm, terrified. He had never sailed a ship of any sort before. Now he was in sole control of this rushing, heaving monster which towered above him in a mass of brown sails and rope whose very function was a mystery to him. He had mastered only one small element of the seaman's craft, that of keeping the appropriate compass mark upon the lubber line, and thai only within the last half hour. He did not know what disaster would ensue if he should let it stray either way. The wind seemed to be increasing and the sea rising as they cleared the land, and the ship was heeling noticeably more. He was scared stiff. He sat there in his cricket shirt and braces with Panama hat upon his head under the brilliant sun of the Hawaiian Islands, the bread and the corned beef un tasted on the deck beside him, concentrating on doing the one thing that he had been taught, keeping the tiddy little triangle upon the lubber line. Presently his cup of coffee, now quite cold, left him and slid down into the lee scuppers, still upright.

An hour later he was still sitting in the same position, the ship still rushing along in much the same way under the steady beam trade wind. He was hungry and thirsty, and very sore from sitting motionless on the hard deck. He was less frightened now and his arms were getting tired. He began to experiment with the rope lanyard which assisted him to hold the tiller. If he took another turn around the tiller it eased the grip of his hands. He still had to steer, but if he tied it, the ship would probably go straight enough for ten or fifteen seconds while he retrieved the cup of coffee from the scuppers. He made a couple of trials, and then, greatly daring, lashed the helm and slithered down the deck upon his bottom to retrieve the cold cup.

By the middle of the afternoon he was taking things more easily. He ate his lunch about three o'clock, and sat on at the helm growing steadily more sunburnt and tired. Below, he could see Jack sleeping peacefully upon the lee berth. Tired as he was, he realized that this made sense since for the next month they would have to sail all night. He could not sail the ship at night; Jack would have to do that, or they must heave to as they had done when the harbourmaster's launch had overtaken them. He must stick it out and call Jack at sunset, which seemed to come at about six o'clock.

When the sun was about an hour above the horizon he couldn't stand it any longer, and called Jack. The big man stood up in the cabin, yawned, and came on deck. 'You done a good spell,' he said. 'Everything okay?'

' I think so,' said Keith. ' I haven't touched anything.'

Jack DoneLly took the tiller.' I got her now. Get down and rustle up some chow. I'll heave her to 'n pull a reef down case it gets up in the night.'

Keith got up stiffly and went down below, regardless of what was going on on deck. He lit the stove to make some coffee and got out a tin of pork and beans to heat up for their supper. He had got as far as getting out the bread when he suddenly felt dizzy and faint; the fumes of the stove were nauseating, the motion of the ship intolerable. He struggled on for a little, unable to focus his eyes on anything. Then he was overcome and dashed up on deck to be sick over the lee rail.

He moved back to the hatch when it was over. Jack was tying down the reef points at the boom, and paused in his work.' Gets you, down below,' he said affably.' Stay out on deck a while. I'll get the chow.'

' I can manage.'

'You'll get sick again. Stay where you are.'

Keith obeyed him and sat on the deck by the hatch, gradually recovering. Jack finished his chores on deck and went below. Presently he handed up a dirty plate with a great mess of steaming pork and beans on it, a huge hunk of bread, and a cup of coffee. 'I don't want anything,' said Keith faintly.

'Go on'neat it.'

'I'll be sick again.'

'Sure you'll be sick again. Go on 'n eat it.'

Keith took the path of least resistance, and ate most of it, and felt the better for it for the moment. Jack took the dirty plates and cups, wiped them with a filthy rag, and put them back ready for use again. He took the bucket with the lanyard on the handle and sluiced it over the side, left a little seawater in it, and placed it on the deck below, beside the head of the lee berth. He lit the cabin lamp and turned it low, then came on deck and took the tiller, let draw the sheets, and got the vessel on her course. It was now nearly dark. *

'Get on down 'n get some sleep,' he said. 'Don't go standing up - lie down right away. You got nothing else to do till daylight.'

'You can't sail her all night.'

'Aw, if I get sleepy I'll heave to.'

Keith took off his shoes, went down below and stretched out on the berth. Somewhat to his own surprise he fell asleep at once. He slept for five or six hours, woke up feeling sick, and got out on deck to vomit over the rail. Jack was sitting smoking at the helm, and the ship going smoothly over the long ocean swell. 'Just take her while I get some chow,' he said.

Keith took the helm in the bright moonlight and struggled to keep the vessel on her course in the faint light of the oil-lit binnacle. Presently Jack passed him up a mug of coffee and a great hunk of bread spread with jam, and sat below himself finishing up the tin of cold pork and beans. Then he came on deck again. ' Guess I'll take her now.'

So the night passed for Keith, in alternate vomiting and sleep. He took the helm again at dawn while Jack Donelly slept. In general he was well enough on deck while he concentrated on the sailing of the ship, and he was ill directly he went below. They sailed on all the day under a blue sky flecked with cloud. Once in the afternoon when Keith was lying dozing and exhausted on the lee bunk he opened his eyes to see Jack Donelly wedged upon the other bunk, and realized that there was no one at the helm. To his inquiry Jack said, ' She goes by herself okay with the wind forward of the beam. Won't be no harm if we get up a tiddy bit to weather.' He pointed at the bulkhead at his feet. ' I reckon we made ninety-five miles yesterday, up till dawn today. See where I wrote it down?'

Later that afternoon when Keith was at the helm and Jack below, beginning the preparations for supper, he happened to glance up through the hatch. Immediately he stopped what he was doing and came out on deck, and stood looking at the sky. Keith asked him what he was looking at.

'Frigate bird,' said Jack. 'That's the third I've seen.'

Keith followed his arm pointing and saw the bird, very high, flying or gliding on a straight course. 'That's a gull, isn't it?' he asked.

'Frigate bird," said Jack. 'Much bigger 'n a gull. See his forked tail. He's going home some place.'

'How do you know that?'

' That sort don't spend nights at sea. They go way out, but they go back to land each night. He'll be down by sunset.' He glanced at the sun. 'Hour 'n a quarter, hour 'n a half. There's land that way, forty, fifty miles. That's the third I see, all going the same way.' He laid a horny, dirty hand vertically across the binnacle, looking up at the flight of the bird and down at his hand. 'Just a tiddy bit south of east,' he said. ' Get them charts of yours 'n see what land that is.'

Keith went below and got the chart and brought it up on deck quickly before he was sick. He put the
Pacific Islands Pilot
down on it with the edge pointing a little to the south of magnetic east. 'Must be Hawaii,' he said. 'If we're on course that should be about sixty miles away.'

Jack thought about it, watching the bird now disappearing to the east.' I dunno as he'd fly so fast as that,' he said. ' Reckon we're up to windward just a tiddy bit.'

Chapter Eight

The DC6B flown by Captain Fielding landed back at Blackbushe about midday on Thursday, just a week after leaving for Honolulu. They could have flown to Speke from Frobisher, which would have been more convenient for Mr Adams, but the landing fees for the aircraft at Speke far exceeded Mr Adams' fare by rail from London to Manchester, so they took him to Blackbushe with them. They landed back into the cold foggy drizzle of a January day in England; after the languorous sun and warm trade winds of Honolulu the change was little to their liking. 'Half-inch thick underwear, fires in the living room, and hot buttered crumpets for tea,' said the navigator thoughtfully. 'Well, I dunno. I suppose there's something to be said for it.'

The crew were tired and ready for a rest. They had flown the best part of their maximum permitted allowance of flying for a month in one week, finishing up with thirty-six hours on end. For most of them there was employment or instruction on the ground in the installations of Blackbushe until they were rostered for another flight, but all were entitled to three days of rest. Dick King would start again upon the overhaul of engines in the shops on Monday morning, but having turned in his log books and written his report he was free to go home.

He telephoned to his wife, Ethel, to bring the car to Blackbushe to fetch him. He lived at Egham in a house off Stroude Road convenient both for Blackbushe and for London airport in case he wanted to change his job, and convenient for Ethel for shopping in Staines. He had brought back little gifts from Honolulu for his wife, a
lei
of frangipani

blossoms in a polythene bag and a bracelet of coloured tropical nuts, unusual'in Egham. 'I haven't got anything particular for tea,' she said as he got into the car. ' Anything you fancy?'

He shivered a little in the unaccustomed, raw chilliness of the early dusk. ' Sausages,' he said. ' Pork sausages and fried potatoes.' He thought of the navigator. 'And crumpets. Let's have lots and lots of crumpets. Got the fire lighted ?'

She looked surprised. 'I didn't light it yet - it's not very cold. Are you cold ?'

'A bit. We'll light it when we get in.' Halfway home he thought of Keith Stewart's letter in his pocket, and they stopped and posted it, and bought sausages and crumpets.

When they got home he gave her his presents, and she exclaimed with pleasure at the bracelet and the
lei,
which was satisfactory to him. While he was lighting the fire and putting the car away she picked the
lei
to pieces and put the Sowers in water in an endeavour to make them last a little while in January England, and then she started to. cook the potatoes and the sausages and crumpets. ' I never asked if you had a good trip,' she said.

'Pretty fair,' he replied. He paused, and then he said, ' You remember me telling you about Keith Stewart of the
Miniature Mechanic,
who was coming with us ?'

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