A Ship's Tale (28 page)

“I thought we'd already made a course correction last night,” I said.

“It was really only partial,” Edward replied. “If you're interested, I can show you where we are on the map.”

I should say I was interested! After having to pry information out of the others with the mental equivalent of a pick and shovel, anyone volunteering information was to be listened to with great attention. Seeing me eager, he went on.

“This is how it is, then.” Pulling one chart to the centre of the table, Edward pointed to the first of a series of crosses marked in the Thames Estuary about midway between Clacton and Margate. “This is an exact position which we got by triangulation. It's about halfway to the scuttling point. While you were sunning yourself on the tug, we were working up here, being very careful to keep out of eyeshot of anyone on the tug. This cross here was our position last night when we made our big course correction to head south,” He pointed to the last cross heading almost due east. “You can see from these sandbanks that we had to go far enough east to avoid going aground. Having come far enough due south, by my calculations, I've put her sou'sou'west. As Bowman said, with any luck, we should go through the Straits on this tack, and won't need to change course until we get to this point,” and he slapped the chart south of Brighton.

I made up my mind to get to know Edward better. He was willing to keep me up to date about the ship as long as I wasn't going to be as argumentative as Bowman and Harris had been with him. As long as I didn't question his judgment and seemed eager to learn he was very happy to answer questions—as long as he felt he was teaching.

Chapter 16

CLEARING AWAY AND MESSAGES FROM HOME

Boris had been finishing up splices and extra work on the lines, then he checked the grommets on the sails. He exclaimed, “They did very good job! Never making sails before, they did very good.” He nodded, tipped his cap, and disappeared below. Shortly thereafter, we heard quite a bit of banging and thrashing about, but this was Boris's way. He liked being alone, and he didn't like people irritating him while he worked. Everyone stayed clear of the main hatchway, for this was Boris's domain.

“What's he doing down there?” I wondered aloud.

“Don't ask!” Harris said. “It's his place, and if you venture down there, you'll gain nothing but his wrath which I assure you can be formidable at times.”

After a while Robert went forward, saying something about stores, and left Harris at the helm. It was unusually quiet and I asked where the boys were who were off watch.

“Down below, 'tween deck forward,” Harris replied. “Maybe you can go and help.”

I gave up on my intended assault on the dreaded radio for the moment.

The 'tween deck was an upper hold just under the main deck, about five feet high at its low end and as wide as the ship, with the aft section divided into our cabins. It stretched from the foremast and ended at the main hold. We weren't carrying much, so Boris used this forward hold as a store for anything in the way of food and extra sail. The main hold was reached through the main hatchway where all the lines and serviceable equipment used for running the ship were stowed. This was Boris's private domain and served double duty as his sleeping quarters.

In the rush and tumble of getting everything on board, many things were put down anywhere there was room and left unsecured. I was glad that we'd not had a storm our first day out. With all the hatches battened down, the 'tween decks is a dark place and one needs plenty of light to avoid falling down through the tonnage openings under the hatches. I had my own method of avoiding these openings and walked as near to the hull as possible. However, with twenty boys dashing around excitedly, I made a note to talk to Harris about putting some sort of covers in place for these traps.

I went down through number two hatch and could see the boys further forward. They'd found some lanterns and had two suspended over the great mound of stores.

I could hear Robert giving instructions, “All this stuff was accumulated by Harris and Boris over quite a period. We might not need all of it on the voyage, but we'll never know if we don't sort it out. Now what we're looking for is paint, and anything to do with cleaning, such as tools, soap, and disinfectant. If you sort those out and put them here,” he showed them a space between two of the ship's ribs, “that'll make it easier to see what's left.”

Robert moved some things and came up with a blanket. “As you're looking for cleaning supplies, make another pile for any bedding or clothing you find, including life jackets and life belts. Eventually, we'll need to make things secure during bad weather so they don't get thrown about.”

I congratulated him on handling the task, to which Robert blew a quiet raspberry. “I didn't tell them what their next job was going to be,” he said. I raised my eyebrows questioningly. “And that is cleaning and painting as much of the topsides as we can, without getting paint everywhere. You remember what the Straits are like, don't you, Flynn? If we get caught in a headwind, we'll be tacking back and forth for ages. We don't want wet paint all over the place. Painting aloft is a stupid idea if you ask me. I'll ask Harris to get free of that notion.”

I agreed and suggested we should explore lockers and other spaces to find out what they contained and to get to know the ship. I'd never been on a three-master before, and I knew that Robert's only experience had been on a schooner. As we were the lowest-level officers on the ship, we needed to learn about the ship before an emergency found us short on knowledge and unable to carry out orders. We found another couple of lanterns and went into the gloom and smell of the area under the fo'c's'le head, deck, and forepeak.

The forepeak was piled high with coal, so I knew where Katherine needed to send her helpers when the galley ran out. The coal-store was fragrant compared to the rest of the area, which consisted of the crew's head, washroom, and a store full of grease drums.

“Ah!” exclaimed Robert, “just the place to store the paint. We should be able to tie it down in here.”

We came back to find the boys hard at work sorting the pile of soft-goods. Walking aft, we came to the area below the poop deck and found a large locked door marked Galley Stores. Having seen the way the boys could eat, locking these doors was simply protecting our interests. On our way through the 'tween decks, I'd shown the tonnage openings to Robert and asked him to keep an eye open for something we could use to cover them.

By the time we got this far, I knew I had to get on with my radio studies. I said to Robert, “Before Harris starts shouting at me, find out how to reach someone in the village or near it. We need to know if there's going to be a pursuit. And if I can find a way to reach Martin, I'm sure he can make some discreet enquiries.” I made off to the chart room.

To my surprise, there sat Harris. He was sitting in what was supposedly my chair, although I'd laid very little claim to it as yet, with headphones on and guidebooks open everywhere. He looked up as I came in and motioned me to sit in the other chair. He had the handset up to his lips and was listening very intently to someone at the other end.

After a while, he clicked on the handset and said, “Right then, I'll be expecting your call in about two hours. Be careful how you make contact. Just make damn sure nobody is listening. And thanks for agreeing to go out straightaway. We do need to know as soon as possible, over.”

As he turned towards me, I put up my hand and said, “Wait a minute! I wasn't at the radio because you told me to go and help Robert.”

“Feeling guilty, are we, Flynn?” Harris grinned. “Not to worry. I've been filling in for you since this morning.” He laughed and feinted a cuff at me. “It's just me, lad. It's the way I am. I've been a sparks in my time, but the equipment was very old-fashioned and we didn't have microphones, only a Morse key,” he said with evident nostalgia. “I suppose I could still use one of those. By studying these books, I discovered that we can do a number of things with this machine. Most importantly, I found we can call a ham. I remember about Martin being a good contact for the newspapers, and after he brought us such a nice going-away present, I thought we should contact him.” I didn't tell him that only a moment ago I remarked on the same thing to Robert, but listened as he went on.

“I'm sure there'll be some sort of investigation started in the village when they can't find the boys. Amongst these books is one that tells you how to find the call sign of someone you don't know. You need an address, and I thought that Allhallows wouldn't be enough since it's so miniscule.” Harris chuckled, revelling in the excitement of the chase.

Harris continued, “Would you believe it? There are two in the area, one in the village and one at Cliffe just down the road. With a little more investigation, I found out how to broadcast the call sign. In short order, I had the man himself on the speaker, but I found I could hear much better using the headphones. His name is Richard Samson, though he prefers Dick, and he knows Martin well and most of the regulars too.

“He told me that he heard the police had been round asking questions, but I was able to reassure him that nothing had happened to any of the boys or to you or Katherine. At first he was a bit worried about that because he didn't want it to be found later that he'd aided and abetted a suspected felon, as they say in the newspapers. I had to tell him very briefly what we'd done, and he was all for it. Apparently, like most of us, he'd had a bellyful of government interference from wartime regulations, and so long as nobody was hurt or likely to get hurt, he was willing to help us. I think there's something instinctively British or maybe exclusively English about what we consider right and wrong. We'll obey a hundred regulations blindly, do as we're told at every step, but give us a whiff of injustice or unfairness, and we'll be on the other fellow's side against officialdom like a shot.

“All Dick had heard is that we'd proposed to the government a feasible solution to what they regarded as a problem, but that they wouldn't consider changing their course of action. He's going out to fetch Martin, who should be able to get away for a couple of hours, and have him tell us the latest news.” Harris said smugly.

“You've outdone yourself this time,” I said. “Even if you can't drive, you can certainly make the radio work. I still want to be the radio officer, however.”

Harris said he'd be back in an hour, but I could find him with Bowman if Martin called earlier. I settled down to wait with the pile of guides in front of me, eager to do my part in our kick against authority.

I was just starting to grasp emergency procedure when the radio suddenly started to crackle. I could hear someone speaking, but too low for me to understand. Then it came to life with a high howl.

I called to Boris, “Tell one of the boys to go and find Harris.”

A system of blasts on the pipe were signals for different orders and different operations to be carried out. They were often all that could be heard over the wind. The pipe gave its shrill call, and soon Larry came running.

The radio was squealing like a pig going for slaughter, and then a voice suddenly broke clear, “
Calling Harris, calling Harris, are you receiving me
?”

I picked up the handset. “Harris here, Harris here, receiving you loud and clear.” I released the switch and waited for a response. It seemed a long time coming. Meanwhile Harris strode in and I told him I was still waiting for some response. Taking the handset, he pressed the switch several more times, as he took his seat.

There was a loud click from the speaker and Martin's excited voice came over. “
Is that you, Flynn? Ha! This is fantastic to think that we're talking like this. Is everything all right with you, Katherine, and everybody?
”

“We're all right,” I replied, “but unfortunately I don't have all the time in the world to stop and chat. What we'd really like to know is what's been happening at the Inn and in the village. Have the police been round? Any lackeys from whatever ministry is responsible for forcing us into this action? Has anyone—”

“
Hold on there
,” Martin came back cheerfully, “
that's far too many questions for me to remember. Let me tell you what's been happening, and then you can ask questions
.” After the crackling and howling, the radio settled down to a more or less even tone as we listened to Martin's story.

“
This morning, as you can well imagine, Mrs. Beasley was doing exactly as I thought she'd do, going mad before my eyes. She was ramping about trying to get things cooked, tidying this and that, suddenly remembering something in the bar or kitchen and such. She was at full steam, trying to do everything at once.

“
‘I will never understand what people are about,' she said to me, ‘Flynn and Katherine disappearing like that, and here I'm left with all these things to do.' I suggested that we could do with some extra help. At that point the lady from the village still hadn't shown up and I did feel a bit sorry for Mrs. B. I suppose it serves her right. After all, she should be a bit more understanding of people, and then she might not be surprised by their reaction to her. Just when I thought she'd start screaming in frustration, there was the hooting of a car's horn and that grey face of O'Connell appeared round the door. He looked terrible and about to collapse.

“
‘Oh, Bertha,' he said, and I thought he was going to cry, ‘when I got back…' and he looked at me, wondering, no doubt, if I knew where from, but I pretended I was seriously studying a menu. He carried on, ‘When I got back to the orphanage, everyone had gone. Not a single soul to be found anywhere! That wasn't all', he said, and took her arm and shook it. ‘Their belongings were also gone. Everything, even down to the sheets and mattresses
!'”

Martin was laughing heartily, but it was a tinny sound over the radio. “
You can picture it: raised eyebrows and incredulous squeals from Mrs. B.…Then she said it was odd, everyone around here seemed to have disappeared too. O'Connell asked her what she meant by everyone.

“
‘Well, I can't find the woman that works here. You remember Katherine and our gardener, Mr. Flynn? They both seem to have vanished.' O'Connell thought this was too much of a coincidence, and he rang the local constabulary. He also called Scotland Yard. ‘All the boys and your two helpers gone sounds like a case for the police,' he said. She agreed and must have said a dozen or more times, ‘Something odd is going on, something very odd.'

“
I could hardly believe my ears,
” Martin went on, “
She agreed without endless argument
.
I was quite surprised when O'Connell said Scotland Yard was sending somebody down
.
Later O'Connell met the local police
,
including the CID from Gravesend
.
I was told by one of the local Bobbies that when the CID inspector asked him how many boys were missing
,
he didn't know precisely!
Can you beat that? Apparently he first said that seventeen or eighteen were gone and when the inspector asked which figure was right
,
he got angry with him! I'm surprised he wasn't arrested on the spot!
” Martin was laughing delightedly and I could see why.