by D. W. Buffa
‘You haven’t given a concert, you haven’t performed anywhere in public, since your rescue, have you?’
‘And I never will,’ said Hugo Offenbach, staring down at the hands that had lifted the spirits of millions and, if Marlowe were to be believed, saved the lives of the other five survivors of the Evangeline. ‘I have too much respect for the music,’ he explained, raising his eyes to Darnell’s waiting glance. ‘I won’t become a sideshow, nor will I tolerate pity.’
‘The violin you had, the one that Marlowe saved, the one you played during your long ordeal—There was no mention of it in Captain Balfour’s list of contents of the lifeboat. Do you know what happened to it?’
A sigh, and then a shudder, passed through the witness. A sad, distant look clouded his eyes.‘I let it go, buried it at sea, when the White Rose came; buried it at sea with the people buried there; buried it at sea and wished I had been buried there as well.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
ROBERTS KNEW THAT DARNELL NEVER DID anything without a reason, but he still was not sure why the defence would call as a witness the man who designed and built the Evangeline. John Mulholland was by all accounts one of the most respected naval architects in the world, but there was no dispute about why the Evangeline had sunk and he could not know anything about what had happened to those who had survived it. Darnell appeared to offer an explanation when he began to ask his questions, but Roberts suspected that the old man had something more in mind than simply giving the jury a better sense of what the Evangeline had been like to sail.
‘Mr Mulholland, you designed and built the Evangeline?’
John Mulholland was of middle height, with clear brown eyes and short blondish hair greying at the temples. He had the crisp, clean look of a man in his early fifties who enjoyed perfect health, the only sign of age a pair of glasses he slipped on with a certain self-consciousness when he was asked to look at a document. ‘I was the chief designer, but there were dozens of people involved in building her.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ said Darnell in an easy, amiable manner as he fiddled with the pages in an open file that lay on the table in front of him.‘That would be at the Wiegand Shipyard in Seattle?’ he asked, glancing at the page on which his fingers had stopped.
‘Yes, it would.’
Darnell flashed an embarrassed grin. ‘Before we go any further, perhaps you could help me with a difficulty. I’ve never been quite certain what to call her—the Evangeline. It doesn’t sound right to call her a ship; but on the other hand, a boat doesn’t sound right either.’
‘The Evangeline was a yacht, the finest one we ever built—and, I would venture to say, one of the finest in the world.’
Darnell lifted his eyebrows, a look of sober admiration in his eyes. ‘Most of us think of a yacht as a pleasure craft, something slow and stable, perhaps fifty or sixty feet in length. The Evangeline was not like that, though, was she?’
‘She was certainly made for pleasure; but no, she wasn’t like that. She was something different altogether. She was not fifty or sixty feet in length; she was more like three and a half times that— one hundred and ninety-eight feet, ten inches, to be precise. I said she was a yacht, and she was, but the actual category is “cruising sailboat”.’
‘Put this in some kind of perspective for us, Mr Mulholland, if you would. I read somewhere recently that back in the l830s or 1840s the United States sent out a six-ship expedition to map the islands of the South Pacific, and that the largest ship—a frigate of the United States Navy—was one hundred and twenty feet in length. Does that sound right?’
‘Yes, I’m familiar with the accounts of that expedition.You’re right, that was the length of the frigate on which the commander sailed. If I remember correctly, it carried a crew of nearly two hundred.’
Darnell appeared incredulous. ‘Two hundred? On a ship not even two-thirds the size of the Evangeline?’
‘In length, yes; but a frigate like that was broader at the beam and had several decks below. Also, you must remember, in those days the crew slept in canvas hammocks with barely any room between them.’
‘Nor, I suspect, was that the only difference, Mr Mulholland,’ said Darnell with a shrewd glance at the jury.‘The Evangeline had every kind of modern advantage, didn’t she? State-of-the-art technology, electronic navigational equipment rather different from the compass and sextant used by the sailing ships of the nineteenth century. I have here a list of devices that were used on board; would you mind reading off just a few of the most important ones so we can get a sense of just how extraordinarily sophisticated the Evangeline was?’
The clerk took the two-page document from Darnell and walked to the witness stand. Mulholland put on his glasses, glanced down the list and then went back to the beginning.
‘An Anschutz Nautopilot D and Gyrostar Gyrocompass.’ He looked up. ‘The Evangeline had direct cable steering that was perfectly balanced. You could control her with the tips of your fingers. When the autopilot was engaged she could be steered hydraulically. The gyrocompass told you your exact position anywhere at sea.’
His eyes ran further down the list.‘B & G Hyrdra 2000 depth, wind, navigation tec., Furuno depth sounder, 2 x Furuno radar FR8100, Satcom A ABB Nera Saturn 3s 90.’ He turned the page, about to continue, then shrugged. ‘She had the most advanced navigational system in the world. If you want, I can go through each item and explain what it did, but they were all to the same purpose: the certain acquisition of perfect knowledge. That is, everything about where she was, where she was heading, and what—wind, water current, depth—she was going to encounter. We built her so she would be ready for anything; there would be no surprises.’
‘No surprises?’ asked Darnell, with a quick sidelong glance. ‘You mean no surprises while everything—all this wonderful, sophisticated equipment—was working?’
‘Yes, of course. I didn’t mean…’ replied Mulholland, biting his lip at the thoughtless imprudence of what he had said. It was the kind of honest mistake that made him believable in a jury’s eyes.
‘No one suggested that you did,’ said Darnell.‘The equipment failed.We know that. But that isn’t the reason the Evangeline sank. I want to ask you something about the yacht’s construction. I’ve read through the plans and the other materials, and, while I’m the first to admit my almost total ignorance about such matters, one thing caught my eye.’
Darnell reached inside the file folder and pulled out a thick document with a black cover.
‘You say—I believe this was something you wrote…,’ he said as he turned to the page he wanted. ‘Yes, here it is. “A unique feature of the sail handling controls is the self-tailing captive winches. Powered on 24v DC current, the winches take full advantage of the yacht’s enormous generators and battery capacity. They provide for more efficiency and reliability than their hydraulic predecessors and permit extended periods of “quiet-ship operations”.
Darnell let the document dangle from his hand. ‘What does “quiet-ship operations” mean, exactly? Does that mean when the only source of power is the wind in its sails, when it is not using the diesel engine—an engine, which if I recall correctly, was capable of producing a thousand horse power?’
‘Yes,but it means more than that.“Quiet-ship operations”means that no engines or motors are running anywhere. The electrical power required for the winches, among other things, is supplied entirely by battery.“Quiet-ship operations” means that the yacht is sailing without any more noise than a ship would have in the days of sail, before steam and electricity. It is the closest you can come to what it would have been like to sail on that voyage you mentioned earlier, the expedition that charted part of the South Pacific.’
‘Except, of course, that with a ship like the Evangeline you could always turn the engine on,’ said Darnell immediately. ‘Except, of course, that even when she was running “quiet” she was still using electricity, battery-powered electricity, to operate not just the winches, b
ut all that electronic equipment—when that equipment was still working.’
‘Yes, I didn’t mean…’ said Mulholland, doubly chastened.
‘I know you didn’t. I apologise. I’m a little too caught up in the case, in what happened. Let me get us back to the point at issue. Everything you did in the way you designed and built the Evangeline was to give it speed, to give it—and I think you used this phrase somewhere—a “feeling of closeness to the sea”. And that is part of the importance of this “quiet operation” we were just talking about. Or have I not properly understood what you were trying to do?’
‘No, that’s what we were after. Mr Whitfield wanted the Evangeline to combine modern technology with the classic feel of sailing ships. He wanted something that could go anywhere in the world, something that was safe, dependable, streamlined and fast.’
‘In other words, he wanted all the old sense of adventure with none of the old fact of risk?’
‘Mr Whitfield was quite emphatic. He wanted to know what it was like to sail the ocean before the age of steam. That was the way he once described it.’
Darnell’s eyes narrowed into a strange, wistful look. ‘But he really didn’t want that, did he? The Evangeline had more than just the most advanced navigational systems—she had all the modern comforts of home: television, stereo, dishwashers, washing machines, refrigerators … If I’m not mistaken, one of the master suites even had a treadmill that folded into the floor. The Evangeline was not a sailing ship—the Evangeline was a yacht with marble floors and marble bathrooms!’ Darnell’s eyes lit up. He nodded twice vigorously. ‘In fact, on this ship that was supposed to have a nineteenth-century feel, weren’t all the staterooms airconditioned?’
‘Yes, as I’ve said, no expense was spared; everything was state of the art.’
Roberts had heard enough. ‘Your Honour, while this is all quite fascinating, it isn’t entirely clear what it has to do with the issue in the case. The prosecution is perfectly willing to stipulate that the Evangeline was everything the witness says she was—if that will help to move things along.’
‘But it is relevant to the case, your Honour,’ interjected Darnell before Judge Maitland had a chance to respond.‘The construction and capabilities of the Evangeline go directly to the issue of how she sank. It goes, your Honour, to the ultimate question of responsibility.’
Maitland gave him a stern look. ‘Then make the connection, and do it quickly.’
Darnell turned back to the witness.‘The Evangeline was, again, how many feet in length?’
‘Close to two hundred.’
‘And that frigate we talked about earlier—the one that led the expedition—how long again?’
‘A hundred-twenty, or something close to that.’
‘And it had a crew of—what did you say?—nearly two hundred?’
‘Yes.’
‘It took a crew that large to sail her?’
‘Everything had to be done by hand.You needed men to let out the sails and roll them up, men to cook, men to scrub the decks—everything.’
‘The crew of the Evangeline—how large was it?’
‘Eight.’
‘Eight. And is that because nearly everything could be done by machine? Like those electric-powered winches you described earlier, and that steering system that allowed fingertip control?’
‘Yes. The Evangeline could almost sail herself.’
‘And the marvellous electronic systems that allowed all this to happen—did you design redundancy into them? In other words, were there backup systems that would take over if any part of the system failed?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘But all of them were dependent on an electric power supply?’
‘Yes, that’s true.’
‘And if that failed, then all the systems shut down, leaving everything in the hands of the men who sailed her?’
‘Yes.’
Darnell raised his grey eyebrows and, turning to the jury, searched their eyes. ‘Just like in the days of sail,’ he said in a quiet, thoughtful voice. ‘When you designed the Evangeline,’ he went on, looking back at the witness, ‘when you design any ship, I assume you plan for every contingency, including the worst?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then you must have planned for the possibility of a storm, even a storm of unusual force?’
Mulholland had no doubt: the Evangeline should have been able to survive anything.
‘Even if her masts had been torn loose, shattered by the enormous power and weight of the water that hit her?’
‘She would not have been able to sail, obviously; but the engine was powered by diesel, so that even if the electrical system could not be restarted, the engine would have been operable and the Evangeline would have been able to get back to shore.’
Darnell bore in on him, his eyes cold and unforgiving, his voice hard and insistent.‘If the hull had held, you mean. But it did not hold, did it? From the testimony we’ve heard, the Evangeline did not just sink, she broke in half. Does that surprise you?’
‘Of course it surprises me.’
‘But you had a warning that might happen, during the sea trials, when a crack appeared below the waterline.’
‘And that crack was repaired. One of the workmen had used the wrong welding rod and—’
‘Yes, we know that,’ said Darnell impatiently. ‘We know that he made a mistake, that he used the wrong welding rod, the one that was supposed to be used on stainless steel and not aluminium. But we also know that you did not bother to check all the other welding seams to see if any of them also had problems.’
‘We had identified the problem; we knew which workman had made the mistake; and we knew where he had made it.’
‘Are you still going to insist, after everything that has happened, that there was no reason to check any further than you did? Are you going to tell this jury, Mr Mulholland, that the hull of the Evangeline was exactly the way you had designed it, that all those seams in the metal plating had been welded properly, that she was perfectly safe on the day she sailed out of the Mediterranean?’
With a bleak expression, Mulholland slowly shook his head. ‘No, of course not. I only meant that, as far as anyone knew—’
‘But there was a way to know for sure, wasn’t there? In fact, in that report of yours, you said it was something you were prepared to do.You said—do you want me to read that part of the report to you?—that you could X-ray all the seams.’
‘Yes, that’s correct. It was up to the owner.’
‘Up to the owner?’ asked Darnell with a sceptical smile. ‘But your report seemed to tell him that there wasn’t any compelling reason to do it.Your report said that the problem had been taken care of.Your report said that you were convinced that everything was fine.Why would the owner want to…?’
Darnell suddenly realised what had happened. He looked at Mulholland with something close to anger.‘Money! That was the reason, wasn’t it? You were shifting responsibility. If you had said that the only way to be sure that all the seams were properly welded was to X-ray every one of them, the cost would have been on the builder. But by telling Benjamin Whitfield that it wasn’t necessary, that everything was fine, you were shifting the responsibility and expense to him. If he wanted all the seams checked, he would have to pay for it himself. That’s a very expensive procedure, isn’t it, Mr Mulholland, checking each of the welded seams like that?’
The colour had drained from Mulholland’s face. For what seemed an eternity, he stared glumly at the floor.‘We did everything we were supposed to do,’ he said finally in a ghostly, shattered voice. ‘We were convinced that the rest of the aluminium plates had been welded properly. We had no reason to think otherwise. We were already a little behind schedule. To check every one of those welds would have delayed delivery by several more weeks. It was our honest opinion that the Evangeline was safe. But, yes, you’re right; the only way to have known for sure would have been to X-ray every se
am. And that is exactly what I told Mr Whitfield the last time we talked.’
‘You had a conversation with Mr Whitfield about this? After you had sent him the report?’
‘We weren’t trying to hide anything. I told him that we had not found anything to warrant further investigation, but that there was only one way to be absolutely certain. I told him it was time-consuming and that it would add to the expense, but that if he wanted us to do it, we would.’
Darnell studied Mulholland intently. ‘Did you also tell him that if any of the welded seams were defective, the consequences could be catastrophic?’
‘Yes. He said that with all the technology on board the last thing anyone had to worry about was safety.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘HUBRIS—PRIDE,’ SAID DARNELL, SCOFFING AT the apparent ease with which Benjamin Whitfield had dismissed any suggestion that there might be something that could not be conquered by science and technology. He shoved aside the plate that held his half-eaten dinner. He was too preoccupied for food.
Staring at the thickening fog outside the window of the small neighbourhood restaurant where he and Summer Blaine liked to come, he wondered if the jury had the same reaction, or whether —because they were, on average, so much younger than he—they had failed to grasp the strange irony of what Whitfield had tried to do.
‘That is what I wanted to show them: that the same two things are completely different.’
Summer Blaine started to laugh at the seeming paradox, but Darnell had a point to make.‘Two sailing ships set out on voyages that will take them around a continent. But imagine a member of the crew on that first one—sleeping in hammocks, climbing the rigging, setting sail; out there for months, with the only sound that of the sea and the noise of other men—imagine him on the Evangeline! What would he think? After he had marvelled at all the changes, all this incredible mechanical power, I wonder whether he might not decide that something had been lost? That the older way was better, because it was closer to the sea? Maybe that is just my own ignorance speaking, the romantic version of things I’ve never done; it’s just the feeling I get from Marlowe, the sense that the closer you are to the sea, the closer you are to finding out the truth of things. He’s like someone who travelled to a different country so he could better understand the one he left; only he went off to the middle of the ocean, and instead of passing judgment on a single country, passed judgment on the whole of civilised existence.