by Peter Tonkin
‘I am an only child,’ Inge answered Robin, flinging the words over one shoulder. ‘Father was talking about Tai Fun’s sisters. They’re all named after great winds. There’s Mistral, Sirocco and Monsoon. There was another sister, poor Chinook, but she burned in San Francisco harbour last year.’
Robin nodded. ‘The High Wind fleet. Yes, I know them.’
‘I should think you would,’ said Inge, her tone unreadable. Her face unreadable also as she stopped on the top step of the gangway and turned fully to look down into Robin’s enquiring face. ‘Especially as you’ve come all this way to buy them.’
So both Nic and Richard missed out on the flabbergasted look on Robin’s countenance as she digested the next element of Richard’s big surprise.
As they rode up in the lift, Robin stood frowning and silent. She simply did not know what to say - any more than she knew what to think. When she saw Tai Fun it was love at first sight. If she had thought anything then, as she stood entranced in the launch, it was that Richard had found her the most perfect holiday, MNO perhaps. He was hardly noted for his sensitivity or insight but every now and then he certainly could give her something she hadn’t even realized she wanted. At first glance, this seemed to be the case today. He had pulled her out from under a load of work that, in her still exhausted post-Archangel state, was threatening to overwhelm her. He had whirled her halfway round the world to what appeared at first glance to be her idea of utter, blissful heaven. But this was something else again. To buy her a holiday was one thing. To buy the whole sodding fleet...
What was the bloody man thinking? That he could make a great deal here, obviously. A great deal and a great deal of money.
Well, at least it explained Nic Greenbaum.
‘The lift’s incredibly quiet,’ she said, just for something to say.
‘Electric motor,’ answered Inge. ‘Generated onboard. We use almost no hydrocarbons or fossil fuels. We’re completely self-sufficient with regard to power and everything else aboard except for chandlerage and supplies. And even that’s all local - no air-miles whatsoever.’ Inge looked across at Robin, her face suddenly full of simple pride. ‘This is the greenest ship in the world,’ she concluded. ‘The most environmentally friendly form of transport ever designed.’
And suddenly everything began to make perfect sense to Robin.
So that when Richard tapped on the door of the Royal Suite and caught her in her terry-towelling robe halfway to the shower, she was able to cut straight to the chase.
‘This is very comfortable,’ he said approvingly the moment that she let him in. ‘Functional but neat. Roomy. All mod cons and then some.’ He picked up a banana from the basket of complimentary fruit on the table. ‘Red bananas,’ he said, peeling it. ‘They’re a local delicacy, I understand.’ He crossed to the windows at the rear of the suite and looked down over the balcony there. ‘No one on the sundeck,’ he observed. But there’s a die-hard or two in the pool. Nice view of Singapore. Have you looked?’
‘You reckon these vessels are wave of the future, don’t you?’ demanded Robin by way of answer. ‘Katapult multihulls turned into cruise ships? The Archangel business sent afloat?’
‘They’re everything Heritage Mariner has stood for for years,’ he replied, happy to pick up the conversation as though he had been privy to the thoughts that engendered it. ‘They’re part of our corporate image. Or could be at the drop of a hat! Big but ecologically friendly, that’s us. The best for our clients, our employees, our partners, stakeholders and shareholders. But most of all best for the world that we live in! And the High Wind fleet fits right into the heart of all that. We couldn’t have come up with anything better if we’d designed them and built them ourselves! Don’t you see? Heritage Mariner has to grow or die. Your father admitted that when he handed over to me and went off to the Château du Four in Grimaud for a well-earned and sybaritic retirement. And cruising is a growing market as long as you can soothe people’s worries about the carbon footprint of flying. But this is the perfect package. Carbon-neutral airlines - as near as they can be - getting people to Singapore, San Francisco, Santander or Suez. Mistral, Sirocco, Monsoon or Tai Fun to pick them up! Cruise them up to Alaska, all around the Caribbean, up and down the Med and right through the Java Sea. Down to Oz and back if we can swing it. And they’re not even carbon neutral! They’re carbon positive. Even allowing for the flight out, every single client will be in carbon credit by the end of the first week. It’s amazing!’
Tai Fun heaved gently in the first deep-water swells of the Singapore Strait. Other than the rolling of the waves, there was utter calm. The departing storm had left dead air between here and Sarawak. And almost complete silence. Robin cocked her head, making a pantomime of listening to something, and raised an eyebrow. There was the faintest whine of electrical power, the familiar grumble of motors. ‘What about that lot?’ she said. ‘Engines and electrical motors. Doesn’t sound all that carbon positive to me. And look at all this lot.’ She gave a speaking gesture that encompassed the Bose radio iPod-and MP4-player-compatible sound system, the laptop ports and Bluetooth network system, the Internet, the TV and DVD system. All state of the art, all very power-hungry. ‘And look.’ She crossed back to the bed and passed her hands over sections of the consoles there. Lights came on and dimmed, curtains swept shut and open again across the big double doors leading out on to the balcony whose rails seemed to contain the lights of Singapore like the frames on a three-part panorama of stars in the night sky. ‘Carbon positive?’ she demanded sceptically.
‘But it is!’ insisted Richard. ‘I’ll show you after dinner. It’s not something I want to waste time explaining. It’s something I want you to see!’ He began to strip off his travelling suit with restless impatience. ‘Have you showered?’
‘Just going to. You’ll have to wait a moment.’
‘No, I won’t. I’ve a shower en suite as well. But I’ll come in and shave while you wash off.’
‘As long as shaving is all you have in mind, buster. I know you and showers of old. Dinner’s in less than an hour and this girl has no intention of turning up late.’
Chapter 4: First Night
Richard and Robin missed drinks, but made dinner right on time. Richard had not come here unprepared. Keeping secrets from Robin made his preparations more difficult, but he had taken care to be as thorough as usual. He had been through the design plans of Tai Fun long ago - and the plans of her sisters come to that - as well as the last published accounts of the High Wind shipping company. So he knew his way around the beautiful vessel as certainly as he knew his way round her owner’s finances - it was as if he had sailed aboard many times before. And even if he hadn’t been so confident of the way, once he and Robin reached the common parts on the next deck down, all they had to do was follow a couple of hundred of their fellow passengers to the restaurant.
Richard didn’t drink, and Robin had been content to sip something from the contents of her bar fridge as she sat and perfected her makeup at a vanity table worthy of the pickiest Hollywood starlet. They set out for the restaurant as soon as the dinner chimes sounded, therefore, and had no trouble at all finding the place or, once they were there, their host and his captain.
The other voyagers assigned to the captain’s table had assembled half an hour earlier for drinks in the Casino Bar, however, so Richard and Robin suffered the fate of late-comers at any social event. They seemed at first to be presented with a group of people who all already knew each other, and had apparently been acquainted for years. Although some of them clearly knew each other well, others did not. Richard and Robin just had to work out which group was which, and fit themselves in accordingly. Adept though they both were at breaking down such barriers and establishing themselves as amusing and companionable guests, an uneasy feeling that all was not quite as it seemed here lingered, in Robin’s mind at least. Lingered until she began to think it was more than a mere impression. Lingered until she really began to suspe
ct that there were people amongst this group of apparently relatively new acquaintances who were hiding a different and deeper relationship.
Robin’s first glance around the assembled group explained Inge’s care with her looks and her suit this afternoon at once. For there, gazing at Nils Nordberg with a focus of interest that bordered on the worshipful, was the most beautiful woman Robin had ever seen. Thick locks of hair, so brown as to be almost black, coiled down on to a perfectly sculpted shoulder like the Serpent of Eden embracing Eve. Broad shoulders rested on a breathtakingly formed, athletic-looking frame that the diaphanous green silk of the sari-style couturier dress did little to conceal. ‘Ah, Richard and Robin,’ called Nils as they approached, and the girl beside him turned to reveal a face that would have graced a big-budget movie. Opposite Brad Pitt, maybe. The eyes were almost as dark and sensual as the hair, but they had highlights of gold and green. Eyes like that belonged in a jungle, thought Robin. In the face of a tiger or a panther. ‘Introduction time,’ continued Nils. ‘Firstly, this is Gabriella Cappaldi. Robin and Richard Mariner. Gabriella is our new entertainments officer and seems to be settling into her position quite admirably. This is Captain Olmeijer and his newly appointed second officer Lieutenant Eva Gruber, who is also our navigator on this voyage, I understand. You know my daughter Inge, of course...’
Robin drifted through the rest of the formalities on autopilot, her focus on the breathtaking duo of Gabriella and Inge. Individually each was breathtaking. Together they set each other off like ice and fire. Like the competent-looking but achingly young and dumpy Eva Gruber, she suspected, she would have been happy to hate either or both of the women for their head-turning beauty alone. Even before she took into account the manner in which the pair of them seemed to turn all the men into drooling schoolboys and render all other women there - herself included - somewhere between irrelevant and invisible. But there was quite enough tension between the pair of them already. It would be pointless to add her own petty spite to what looked suspiciously like a duel to the death.
Captain Olmeijer had a table of eight. All the rest of the tables in the restaurant were for two or four. The captain sat at the head. On his right sat Robin and on his left Inge. Beside Robin sat Nic and opposite him, beside Nils’s daughter, sat Richard. Beside Richard sat Gabriella who was separated from Eva, sitting opposite, by Nils at the table’s foot.
‘So, ladies,’ began Richard at once, looking left at the two officers. ‘One of you decides where we are going and the other decides what we do when we get there.’
‘Well...’ began Eva, brightening, like a debutante unexpectedly addressed by the most eligible bachelor in the room.
‘Not just when we get there,’ purred Gabriella overriding her. ‘I must keep you entertained on the way, as well you know!’
‘As a matter of fact...’ Eva tried again, flushing to the roots of her mousy hair but egged on a little perhaps by the sympathetic smile that Richard shot her.
‘Particularly,’ persisted Gabriella, ‘as most of the locations that we are scheduled to visit have many attractions of their own. At Singapore, for instance, all I had to do was make sure there was a ride into port and a guide to meet our travellers.’
‘A guide with a large umbrella, I hope,’ inserted Nic with a laugh, glancing from Gabriella to Inge and back again. ‘Did you go ashore yourself?’
‘Not on this occasion. I know Singapore well, of course, but I had a meeting with Mr Nord- berg and we felt I had better prepare an itinerary of particular interest for the next ten days or so, as we were expecting you and Captain Mariner aboard.’
As they talked to each other, they had been glancing through the bill of fare. Conversation waned a little as Filipino waiters arrived to take their orders. As Nic was leaning slightly forward, hanging on Gabriella’s words and apparently trying not to fathom her cleavage too obviously, Robin leaned back and caught young Eva Gruber’s eye. ‘But you are the one who decides where we actually go?’ she asked quietly.
Eva smiled self-deprecatingly, looking more like a schoolgirl than a ship’s officer. ‘Oh, no! The schedules are drawn up at Head Office in Stockholm...’
‘We combine planning for the interests of our guests,’ explained Captain Olmeijer, leaning forward earnestly, ‘with the requirements of keeping Tai Fun stocked with fresh local produce. Would you prefer wine or champagne, Mrs Mariner?’
‘Wine, please. But I suppose that wine can hardly be really local...’
‘Limestone Coast shiraz, Mrs Mariner. Australia is the nearest major wine producer. And we have it shipped - literally shipped, not flown.’
‘The champagne? They don’t make Bollinger in Australia. Nor Indonesia as far as I’m aware.’
‘Shipped again,’ supplied Inge earnestly. ‘With such things it is the regularity of supply that is paramount, not the speed of delivery. Though of course we remain aware of distance.’
Captain Olmeijer took up the explanation gracefully. ‘The whisky, for instance, is Suntory, shipped from Japan, and most of the spirits behind the bar come from Japan or China. But the food is local.’ He glanced at Inge and she nodded, emphasizing the point. Robin glanced across at Richard. He appeared to be listening to Gabriella but she was certain he was missing nothing of this either. ‘The meat and poultry come from the larger islands that we visit,’ Captain Olmeijer continued, ‘from carefully monitored local suppliers who work to the highest health and safety standards. The fish comes from a much wider range and allows us to pass some of your tourist euros and dollars to much less industrialized locales.’
‘I see you have elected to begin your meal with the tiger prawns,’ added Inge. ‘They are farmed in a bay near one of the islands we shall visit in a week or so if all goes well. It is called Pulau Baya. It is a tiny place and largely unspoilt, but it nevertheless appreciates the work and finance we bring. And the ruler, Prince Sailendra, makes the best possible use of it all, I am told.’ She looked at Captain Olmeijer, who took over the explanation once again
‘Certainly, Pulau Baya is becoming a well-established source not only for the prawns but also for island rice - literally Pulau rice - and commercially useable seaweed. The starfruit, guava, mangos and zuzurat you may have noticed in your fruit bowls came from the same source. They also produce durian, which is available on request. You may have noticed the red bananas in the complimentary fruit basket in your suite. They come from the same island. But the Prince has also just completed some less traditional work. There is now a decent sized pier which protects a promising-looking marina. Also there are protected facilities for our water-sports enthusiasts, independently of the white-sand tropical beaches farther along the coast. They set some film or other there recently. That brought in yet more foreign currency. It is one of our most popular ports of call. A considerable commercial combination, Pulau Baya and Prince Sailendra. And one that we are happy to support...’
Inge leaned forward a little, her face flushed with the wine. ‘The Prince is apparently something of a pin-up,’ she half whispered. ‘Western-educated, but strongly traditional in many ways. I saw the publicity stills from the film in a magazine. He fitted right in with all the film stars, men and women!’
The tiger prawns arrived. They had been coated with a tempura batter full of coconut and chilli vermicelli and deep-fried to crisp, golden perfection. Presented on a bed of succulent palm leaves, they seemed more like art than food. But they tasted even better than they looked. As she ate, Robin persisted in her attempts to get poor little Second Officer Gruber to finish a sentence. She stood a better chance now, as the conversation at the table had become more general and interruptions therefore less likely. ‘So the First Officer’s on watch? Don’t you run a standard watch system?’
‘Yes. And yes, we do. Though that is a contradictory answer, I know. We run standard watches. The Captain and First Officer normally attend dinner between seven and nine. It is my watch six to midnight, though we will sometimes dog it, I suppos
e. I have only been aboard a week or so; I am not used to everything yet. I am not used to ... all this...’ Eva waved a pair of chopsticks, impaling a prawn, and vaguely signifying the restaurant with its crowd of diners.
‘Really? You surprise me,’ answered Robin drily. ‘So why the change tonight? Balancing numbers at the captain’s table? Three boys need three girls? Or is it your input as navigating officer that’s required?’
‘Perhaps. But the First Officer is sailing master and he’s needed on the bridge tonight.’
‘I see,’ said Robin, although she didn’t really. The empty salad plates vanished. The main-course choices began to arrive. Robin had selected Indonesian lamb, expecting the satay sauce to be peanut-flavoured. Honey and curry came as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. She was glad to have gone for coconut rice, though, rather than the Singapore noodles popular with the rest.
Chapter 5: Sailing Plans
‘So, Navigating Officer, where do you plan to take us?’ Richard joined in the conversation suddenly, leaving Gabriella and Nils fixated on each other to the exclusion, apparently, of noodles, lamb and Australian shiraz alike.
‘Tai Fun averages ten knots, Captain Mariner. The electric motors allow us relative freedom from wind and current, so we can draw up fairly reliable itineraries. Our current destination, for instance, is Pontianac in Kalimantan. We have tonight, your first full day at sea tomorrow and then tomorrow night. When you awake the next morning we will be making landfall. During day two, after some fun and games aboard, guests may visit Pontianac and explore the city as well as the river there while we stock up again, especially with coffee. We plan to overnight there...’
‘You will be surprised at the night life. The food in the Korem is fantastic!’ inserted Gabriella. ‘But of course everyone will return aboard to sleep.’