Trustee From the Toolroom (3 page)
After lunch John Dermott drove Keith into Southampton and put him down at the West station to catch a train to London. They would meet again before the Dermotts started off across the world in
Shearwater;
they parted cordially, the naval officer grateful to his dissimilar brother-in-law for his help. He drove back from Southampton to Hamble; they would live on the yacht now till they sailed but for one last trip to London. There was still much to be done. He parked the car and went on board. Jo met him in the cockpit. 'Catch his train all right?' He nodded. 'Ten minutes to spare.' 'Oh, good. I've just put on the kettle for a cup of tea.'
They had their cups of tea sitting in the cockpit in the sun. The naval officer glanced down into the forward end of the ship, to the rolled-back linoleum and the floorboards piled beside it. The dark wetness of the concrete patch was already drying, turning a lighter grey at the edges that would match the original surface. 'Well, that's the most important job done,' he said with satisfaction. 'I was worried about that, but it's all right now.'
Joanna nodded. 'Keith's awfully good at that sort of thing,' she said quickly. 'When he's got somebody to tell him exactly what to do.'
She seldom talked openly to him about her brother; now in their shared satisfaction and relief that remark had slipped out. He glanced at her. 'I know,' he said. 'Not much initiative."
She sat silent for a minute. ' Poor old Keith,' she said at last.' I always feel he's missed the boat, somehow. That I've had everything, and he's had nothing.'
'Everything?' he asked. He was morbidly conscious of his truncated career, of the failure inherent in his early retirement, of the forty years of idleness that might lie ahead of him unless he could reorganize his life.
She knew what he was thinking, and he mustn't think it. She turned to him. 'Oh yes,' she said. 'I've had Janice, and money, and the Navy, and this boat. And I've been to China, and to Italy, and Malta. And now we're going off across the world, and we'll see the coral islands, and Hawaii, and Canada, and the States. I've had everything. But poor old Keith, he goes on in that ghastly half a house in Baling and just makes his models and gets practically nothing for them, and Katie has to work in the shop. And he's so good at what he does. It isn't fair.'
He tried to comfort her. 'I don't think he's unhappy.'
'No,' she agreed, 'he's not. Nor Katie, either. They're neither of them a bit jealous of the things we've got. I think it's going to do Janice a lot of good to be with them for a bit. But he's so much better than I am, he ought to have so very much more.'
.He smiled. 'Wants somebody to put a squib up his behind.'
'He always has to be told what to do,' she agreed.
'Apart from making models,' he remarked. ' He seems to be original enough in that.'
'Yes,' she agreed. 'But that doesn't get him anywhere.'
Keith Stewart got to Waterloo at about half past four, and travelled out to Baling Broadway on the Underground. From there he took a tram to West Baling and walked up to his house. He got in about ten minutes before Katie and put the macaroni cheese into the oven as she had told him to, and took the mail from the letter box in the front door and shuffled it through; there was one letter for her and eleven for him, three from the United States. He sighed a little. You could produce an induced current on the surface of a metal sphere that would act as a gyroscope, and from this you could devise a tiny automatic pilot for ship or aircraft models that would weigh only a few ounces. He was aching to get on with the experimental work on that, but first he had to write the last instalment of his serial upon the Congreve clock. After that this heavy mail must be dealt with, and he would be too tired then, and it would be too late, to start off on experimental work. He was already inclined to be sleepy from his unaccustomed day in the open air.
He sat with Katie at the kitchen table over the macaroni cheese and the cups of strong tea. ' Get the light fixed up for them all right?' she asked.
"The light?' And then he recollected. 'Oh, the compass light. Yes, 1 fixed that for them.'
'What's it like in the boat?' she asked. 'How do they ·cook anything ?'
'It's like a caravan,' he told her. 'They cook on Primus stoves.'
' Oh. With everything rocking about ?'
'I suppose so.'
' It must be ever so uncomfortable.'
' I think it is,' he agreed. ' It looks all right when she's tied up in calm water, like she is now, but even then she goes up and down a bit. I don't know what it's like when she gets out to sea, where it's rough. Wouldn't suit me.'
'Would the water come in, say in a storm?'
' I think it would. Of course, she's all decked in. I don't suppose that much would get inside.'
' It sounds awful. I mean, Jo was saying that one of them must be on top to steer. Why do they want to go like that, K ? I mean, they've got plenty of money. Why don't they take a cabin on a proper ship, or else fly?'
'I dunno,' he said. 'I think they just like doing it.'
They sat in silence; they would never understand the Dermotts and there were times when they abandoned the attempt. At last Katie said, 'They won't get shipwrecked, will they?'
Keith shook his head. ' That's one thing they won't do. John's a naval officer and he knows all about it. They've got two sextants to take sights with to tell them where they are, and all the rest of it. They'll be safe enough. But if you ask me, they'll be darned uncomfortable.'
Katie gathered the plates together arid put them on the draining board. 'I'm glad it's not me going with them.'
'So am I,' he said. 'I can't imagine anything much worse.'
Shearwater
rolled
lazily upon the ocean swell as she forged ahead under her twin spinnakers, making about three knots and towing the logline behind her. It was early in the morning and John Dermott was taking a sight upon the sun on their port quarter, dressed only in a pair of faded shorts. Jo sat at the tiller in blue jeans and shirt, watch in hand and pad and pencil at her side, taking the time for him.
They were three and a half months out from England, and now it was the middle of November. They had crossed the Atlantic to Barbados without incident though more slowly than they had anticipated; they had been delayed a little in the West Indies for a broken gooseneck to the boom, and they had been delayed for a long time at Panama after passing through the Canal waiting for a permit from the Ecuadorean Government to call for water at the Galapagos Islands. In the end they had sailed without a permit, had watered at Floreana without trouble, and proceeded on their way. They were thirty-four days out from Floreana, and all was well.
They had not hurried on their way. Thirty-six hours previously they had lain hove-to all night rather than approach the island of Reao in the darkness, their first landfall in the Tuamotu group of islands. With the coming of the dawn they had seen cloud forming above it and had sailed close enough to see the tops of the trees; then they had borne up and resumed their course towards the south and west, leaving the island ten miles to the north. They would not set foot on land until they reached the island of Tahiti, more than 800 miles ahead. They did not particularly want to do so; they had settled into the rhythm of their life at sea, the rain squalls, the warm easy days, the unending maintenance of sails and gear, the cooking and the housework down below. They had grown accustomed to this routine and liked it. - For John Dermott it meant full occupation in the way of life that he preferred; shore life to him was now a matter of frustration and unwanted idleness. For Jo, this way of life meant a happy John.
She jotted down the altitudes as he called them out and the exact time from the watch in her hand, and gave the pad to him. He disappeared below to work the sight and plot it on the chart. He came on deck again after ten minutes. ' It
was
Reao ?' she asked.
' It was Reao all right,' he replied. ' I think we're getting set just a bit to the north, though. You're still steering two ' four zero ?' -
^She nodded.
'Make it two three five,' he said. 'Pinaki should be showing up upon the starboard bow before long. I want to pass about ten miles south of it.'
'There's a bit of cloud there now,' she said.
He stood looking at the little white patch on the horizon with her. 'Could be.' He went below, entered the change of course in the log, and came up again with the hand-bearing compass and squatted on the cabin top with it, sighting upon the cloud. 'That's probably Pinaki.'
They sailed on all the morning over a long swell before a moderate south-east breeze, under a hot sun shrouded by occasional clouds. In good conditions such as these it was their habit to take their main meal in the middle of the day; Jo coqked a corned beef stew and an apple crumble from dried apples, and they had it in the cockpjt. Then she went down to sleep. In the middle of the afternoon the sky clouded over, the wind got up suddenly, and a vicious rain squall swept down on them. They were accustomed to these short-lived tropical squalls and before it started John at the helm could see clear weather behind it. He carried on, the ship scudding before the strong breeze with everything taut and straining, but a seam in the port spinnaker suddenly let go, the sail ripped across, and there was nothing but a flapping shambles of loose sail and wildly flailing boom across the foredeck forward of the mast. John shouted but Jo was already awake and coming out on deck to take the helm; such incidents were part of their daily life and she was well accustomed to them. By the time John had got the sail down and the boom under control the sudden wind had dropped down to a gentle breeze, and they could see the squall driving away to leeward. They set the mainsail and the second jib, took in both spinnakers, and went on. Jo went down to finish her sleep before taking the first watch, and John spread out the damaged sail to dry in the cockpit with him while he measured and cut new sailcloth on his knees for the repair, sailing the ship as he did
so.
They sailed on easily all night. Under twin spinnakers they could perhaps have slept at the same time, but running under the mainsail they had to steer the ship. Jo took the first watch until midnight, sailing easily under a bright crescent moon with little to do but to keep awake. She roused John as he had instructed her and he put on the Primus and made cocoa; they had it together in the cockpit before she handed over to him and went down to sleep.
At dawn they were still sailing easily. She relieved him at the helm, and presently when the sun was high enough he took another sight and went down to work out the position line. When she saw him plotting it upon the chart down in the cabin she called out, ' How do we go ?'
'Not bad.' He brought the chart to the companion, and standing on the cabin ladder he showed it to her in the cockpit. 'We must be about
here.'
He made a little cross upon the chart. 'We might.be a little south of the course now. I'll take a noon sight today, I think, and see if it makes sense.' He did not trust a sight with the sun practically overhead.
' How far before we change course, John ?'
He took the chart back to the chart table and measured with dividers, and came back to the companion. 'About forty miles. Sometime this evening, if everything goes well.'
They had been sailing substantially the same course since leaving the Galapagos Islands thirty-five days before.' What will the new course be ?'
'Two hundred and seventy. An easy one.'
'That's for Tahiti?'
He nodded.
'I don't suppose the compass will work,' she said. 'It's probably got rusty and stuck up, we've been on this one for so long.'
He smiled. 'Like me to get breakfast?'
'No, you come and take her. I'll get breakfast. After that we'll have to mend that spinnaker.'
He nodded. 'We'll be bringing the wind more aft when we change course.'
All morning they worked on the spinnaker together in the cockpit. It was finished before the noon sight had to be taken but they did not set it, for the wind was still well on the quarter. The noon sight confirmed their position, for what that was worth, but when they went to check it with the reading of the log they found the line trailing idly; the rotator had been taken by a fish. They had left England with a dozen spare rotators and were now reduced to three; they fitted one of these last ones and started to get dinner.
They slept in turns all afternoon in overcast, rainy weather without much wind; in the hot humidity they paid little attention to getting wet at the helm save -to wear a hat to keep the rain out of their eyes. The overcast sky prevented an evening sight. John stood for a while at the chart table weighing the doubtful evidence of the noon sight and of the log, the more certain evidence of the morning sight, which did not give much indication of the latitude, the landfall that they had made the day before at Pinaki. Eight o'clock, he thought, would be a convenient time for the change of course when Jo took over for the first watch; if the wind held as it was they would take in the main and the jib then and set the spinnakers. They should be far enough by that time to make the turn, but he was very conscious of the massed coral islands of the Tuamotus over the horizon to the north. He didn't want to get mixed up with that lot.
