by Daphne Clair
He let the laughter die before outlining the duties the part-time sailors could expect to be detailed for. ‘Galley duty helping the cook, polishing the brass fittings, housekeeping tasks, swabbing decks and of course working the ship.’ He paused. ‘There’s no division of duties by sex. You’ll be formed into watches, and so that we get a fairly good balance of age, ability and sexes the first mate and I have drawn up those from the information you gave on your application forms. Lists will be posted on the mast, together with a rough schedule,’ he added, indicating the mainmast in the centre of the long cabin. ‘One more thing. No one is obliged to go aloft and set the sails. The crew will show you what to do if you choose to volunteer. Tomorrow we’ll give you a chance to practise while the ship’s at anchor. And no one is to try it without a safety harness. Breakfast’s at seven tomorrow. We recommend a swim before it.’ Amid laughter and groans, he asked, ‘Any questions?’
There were a few, and then he called for volunteers to help clear the tables. Nearly everyone did, making quick work of it, and a few stayed to help wash up while the others dispersed about the ship.
Some went for a swim in the dark. Annys thought about it but changed her mind when she saw Reid strip off his shirt with quick, impatient movements and dive into the blackness. He came up some way from the ship, and swam so far towards the open sea that she found herself clutching the rail and watching with aching eyes the faint white gleam that was the rise and fall of his arms powering through the water.
When he finally turned and came back, she waited until he was only yards from the side and then stepped back and almost ran down to the cabin. Otherwise she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have screamed at him the minute he climbed back on board, What do you think you were doing, swimming out so far? Where were you trying to go—South America?
And of course it was none of her business. She didn’t have the right any more to question his actions—not that she ever had questioned them, not aloud—and she certainly didn’t need to worry about him. Reid had always been more than capable of taking care of himself.
CHAPTER THREE
Dismayed, Annys gazed at the piece of paper pinned to the mast. She’d told herself it wouldn’t happen, but it had. Her name and Reid’s were on the same watch list, under Tony Hiwi, the first mate.
She was wearing her swimsuit, ready for the early morning dip recommended by Captain Walsh, pausing on her way out to read the lists.
‘I’ll swap,’ she told herself as she climbed the narrow companionway to the deck. ‘Someone will be willing to exchange with me.’
Several men were in the water. She recognised Tony and a couple of other staff members, and thought the others were guest voyagers. Reid wasn’t among them, and she was breathing a sigh of relief when his voice just behind her said, ‘Having second thoughts, Annys?’
‘No,’ she said, casting him a scornful look and, discarding the towel about her shoulders, climbed on to the rail.
He was right beside her, and they dived in perfect unison, coming up to a chorus of congratulatory cheers from the other swimmers. The water was very cold but exhilarating.
‘Beautiful timing,’ Tony called to them. ‘That was a picture to watch.’
‘It seems we’re the star turn,’ Reid murmured, pushing wet hair away from his eyes and waving an acknowledgement to their audience. ‘We always were good together.’
She ignored him. ‘Coincidence,’ she told Tony, and turned to swim away.
This time Reid kept pace with her. ‘Sleep all right?’ he asked her when she finally slowed down.
Annys blinked. Why was he making inane conversation? ‘Fine,’ she answered shortly. She had finally, after lying awake for hours reliving a past she had thought put behind her.
She wasn’t going to ask him how he’d slept, she decided. But he told her anyway. ‘I didn’t,’ he said, floating beside her, his arms moving lazily. ‘Your friend Tancred snores.’
She didn’t know what she was supposed to say to that. She turned over, and began a fast backstroke towards the ship.
Reid stayed alongside her easily, using a strong, leisurely crawl. Annys was groping for the rope ladder to help her up the side when he said, ‘We’re on the same watch, did you know?’
‘I know. I intend to ask for an exchange.’
He found the ladder before she did, and hung on to it with one hand, facing her. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Because if you hadn’t, I would.’
The quick stab of hurt she felt was stupid. They’d agreed to keep out of each other’s way, hadn’t they? She reached past him to grasp the ladder, and the movement combined with the rocking of the ship brought them into contact, legs brushing together.
Clumsily, she thrashed against him, trying to get away, and lost her hold on the ladder, briefly sinking. She surfaced, gasping, and Reid shot out a hand to her, his fingers closing over her arm.
‘Steady!’ he said in a low voice. And then, ‘I could scarcely rape you here, even if I wanted to.’
‘I just lost my grip,’ she said. ‘There’s no need to be snide. Are you going to use that damn ladder, or can I?’
He pushed away from the side. ‘Be my guest.’
‘Thank you.’ This time she took a firm hold on the wet rope and in moments was over the side, picking up her towel. Jane, emerging from the companionway, saw her shiver and asked, ‘Cold, is it?’
‘Mmm, but great,’ Annys assured her.
A warm shower would have been good, but it was a luxury not available on board. Instead she dressed in trousers and a wool sweater, and then went to see if she could find the mate.
‘It’s not me, is it?’ Tony asked when she explained what she wanted.
Annys shook her head. ‘Of course not.’ The crew had mostly been occupied yesterday when Reid had made his shock announcement. Maybe Tony hadn’t heard about it. As surely Captain Walsh hadn’t, or he wouldn’t have been so tactless as to put her and Reid on the same watch. ‘I’d feel happier in another watch, that’s all,’ she ended lamely.
‘The captain’s not keen on altering the watches,’ Tony told her dubiously. ‘They’ve all been carefully worked out for balance, and once people start swapping about we can end up with a lot of light, small people in one watch that makes it hard for them to handle some of the ropes. That’s not just inconvenient; in a crisis it can be downright dangerous.’
‘If I find someone of about my build, then,’ Annys suggested.
‘I could talk to him, I suppose,’ Tony said. ‘You know, if you’ve taken a dislike to someone, those things often work themselves out in the course of the voyage. It’s amazing what happens when people find themselves in a situation where they have to co-operate and rely on each other.’
If she and Reid hadn’t managed to co-operate in two years of living together, she wanted to tell him, they weren’t likely to manage it in three weeks. ‘You don’t understand the problem,’ she told him. ‘It’s more complicated than that.’
‘You’re not being harassed, are you?’ Tony asked, frowning. ‘Because if that’s what it is, I promise the old man will deal with it.’
‘I could deal with that myself, thank you,’ Annys assured him. ‘No, it’s—look, you’re probably going to find out anyway. Reid Bannerman is my ex-husband. We just don’t get along any more, and it’s going to be difficult enough for both of us without having to share a watch.’
After a moment of surprise, Tony said, ‘You find someone willing to change with you, and I’ll talk to Captain Walsh.’
Over breakfast, Jane agreed to take her place. The change-over wasn’t even noticed by most of the others, Annys was sure. Tancred anyway was delighted to find her in the fourth mate’s watch with him.
One of the tiny Japanese girls and Wendy, the middle-aged woman Annys had met the day before, made up the female half of the team, with the tall German and an American businessman who was a keen amateur photographer making up the male balance, the fourth mate and another seaman giving th
e weight of experience.
Clean-up was the first item of the day’s activity, and when galley, cabins, saloon and the heads were all sparkling and spotless the amateur crew rallied on deck to learn about safety procedures, fire drill and what to do if the call came to abandon ship. ‘Although it’s very unlikely,’ they were assured.
They learned some basics about the equipment on board, then there were lessons in nautical knot-tying, in managing anchor and sails, and after lunch they practised launching the ship’s boats and rowing them.
Then came what they’d all been waiting for. ‘One volunteer from each watch,’ the captain said, ‘to climb the rigging.’
There was a moment’s expectant silence. Then Annys, sitting cross-legged on the deck with the rest of her watch, saw a movement from Reid, leaning against the taffrail at the stern, and she shot to her feet.
‘Sure?’ Tony asked her as she waited for him to tell her what to do.
‘Sure,’ she replied firmly, ignoring Reid who was next in line.
Tony checked their shoes first, making sure they were all wearing sandshoes or trainers. Then they donned safety harness and began the climb up the shrouds.
The ship swayed lightly on her anchors, and the ratlines gave under the climbers’ weight, but Annys kept her eyes on Tony climbing above her, carefully copying his movements.
When they reached the yards, she scarcely had time to notice how far away the water was, following Tony’s instructions to secure the clip on her safety harness before stepping on to the footrope. Then she was clinging to the yard, the rope under her feet moving as it took Reid’s weight next to her.
They practised releasing the sail from the clews and gathering it up again, and once she had to snatch at the smooth, sun-warmed wood of the yard to keep her balance. Her heart gave a lurch of fright, and the blue-green water looked infinitely deep and dangerous, the safety rope terribly thin. The hardness of the deck so far below her didn’t even bear thinking about.
Reid made a grab for her, letting the canvas slip from his hands.
‘I’m all right,’ she snapped, readjusting her feet. ‘You take care of yourself!’
When they climbed down she could feel a line of fine sweat just under her hairline, but it was with a feeling of triumph that she leapt on to the teak boards of the deck. The fourth mate shook her hand before she turned to watch the others descend. Reid was already down, and as their eyes met he gave her an odd little smile, part congratulation, part challenge.
Once he’d said to her, ‘You’re the only woman I know who can keep up with me.’
She always had, and she certainly intended to now. He knew it, and the gauntlet had been picked up. Watching him stride away from her to take up his lounging position again at the stern, she felt an odd sense of excitement. If she’d known it, the light of battle was in her eyes.
* * *
By the end of the day more than half of the amateurs had tried the climb into the rigging. Some still held back, one or two swearing that they never would, others saying they needed time to psyche themselves up and make the attempt another day.
The Japanese girl on Annys’s watch had gone up giggling and squealing but with every indication of enjoying herself hugely. Jane had made a competent, determined climb and returned grinning. Tancred had everyone laughing as he ostentatiously gathered his courage beforehand and humorously wiped his brow in thankfulness afterwards, muttering something about the things he did in the course of research. And Xianthe, who was on Reid’s and Jane’s watch, froze halfway up and had to be guided down by Tony.
‘I feel a right twit,’ she confessed to the other women in the cabin as they did their best to freshen themselves for dinner after a quick dip in the sea. ‘You and Jane,’ she said to Annys, ‘made it look easy. Even little Miko and her friend managed it. But me...’
‘I had an incentive,’ Annys told her. And then, in case Xianthe asked what that was, added hastily, ‘And Jane’s done some mountain-climbing, haven’t you, Jane?’ She’d learned that the night before after dinner.
‘Rock-climbing,’ Jane corrected her. ‘At Yosemite. It’s different, though. At least there you’ve got a solid rockface in front of you most of the time. Don’t worry, Xianthe, no one’s going to force you up the rigging.’
At dinner Annys noted that people had altered their seating patterns, tending to gravitate towards their watch companions with whom they had spent the day. Xianthe had moved to the other table and was sitting beside Reid. They seemed to be getting on well. Any man would be pleased to have Xianthe smiling at him the way she was, and Reid had never been averse to pretty women.
No use thinking about that, she admonished herself. It’s all water under the bridge now, and Reid is free to have as many women as he wants.
She was free too, of course, and on that thought she turned a dazzling smile to Tancred who was asking her if she’d like something off the seafood platter he was holding.
On deck that evening someone brought out a guitar and everyone joined in a singalong. Annys sat with Miko and Tancred, who draped a casually friendly arm about each of their shoulders, and tried not to watch Xianthe and Reid, sitting in the shadows together. Xianthe had changed into a dress before dinner, a pretty, soft, flowered cotton affair with a low scooped neckline. Her dark, cloudy hair fell about her shoulders in loose curls and she looked utterly gorgeous and very feminine, the only woman on board not wearing shorts or trousers.
Determinedly, Annys dragged her gaze away, and concentrated on helping Tancred teach Miko the English words to a song. Next time she looked up Xianthe and Reid were gone. She didn’t see them again until she was going down to bed. They were leaning side by side on the taffrail, and a slight breeze blew the woman’s hair into Reid’s face. She saw him lift his hand, heard him make a low-voiced, teasing comment, and Xianthe laughed, turning her head to him.
Annys set her teeth and went down the steep companionway so fast that she nearly fell. * * *
The following morning they practised their new skills again, and after lunch the anchor was raised and the ship got under way, with just enough breeze to allow them to use the sails, helped by the still inept efforts of some of the amateurs who had eagerly climbed the rigging, and others pulling the ropes on deck.
Passing by some more of the two hundred islands of the bay, they gave a wide berth to the rocky outcrop of Cape Brett, where a tourist boat was motoring carefully through the hole-in-the-rock at Piercy Island. And then they were out of the harbour and sailing south within sight of the coast.
There was a flurry of excitement when a whale crossed the ship’s path. Cameras and binoculars lined the ship’s rail, and several people climbed the rigging just to get a better view of the magnificent creature, forging along obliviously, regularly spouting.
In late afternoon they anchored off The Poor Knights Islands, two larger island outcrops attended by a retinue of tiny islets and ragged stacks emerging from the sea. Clouds of seabirds hovered and wheeled over schools of small fish inshore, where the water was green with plankton. Gannets circled and then dived, wings held precisely, folding just as the birds entered the water like guided missiles.
‘We can’t land,’ Tony said. ‘We couldn’t get a permit for so many people to go tramping round on the islands. But tomorrow you can swim and snorkel, we’ll take parties in dinghies into one of the sea-caves, and those with experience—and the right gear—can do some diving.’
Annys looked at the thickness of the vegetation growing all along the clifftops, creamy cabbage-tree blossoms and the just bursting buds of crimson pohutukawa leavening the blanket of green. In Captain Cook’s time there had been a Maori tribe living on Aorangi and Tawhitirahi, but now it was hard to imagine they had ever been inhabited. Of course, that was a long time ago, she reminded herself. The islands’ people had been massacred in 1823 while their chief was away, and on his homecoming he had placed a tapu on them and sorrowfully left with the dozen or so survivors, never t
o return.
‘Hey, is that a Poor Knights lily?’ The amateur photographer was by her side, pointing at the cliff face.
‘I don’t know. Where?’ Annys raised a hand over her eyes.
‘Look, there. Maybe with a telephoto lens...’ He began to rummage in the capacious camera pack slung on his shoulder.
Annys continued peering at the island, shading her eyes, until someone thrust a pair of binoculars into her hand. ‘Take these,’ Reid said. ‘What are you looking at?’
Her first instinct had been to refuse Reid’s offer, but that would have been childish, and embarrassing for the man beside her who was now screwing a long, bulky lens into his camera.
‘It is,’ she said, focusing the glasses on a sword-leaved plant with several large, spectacular scarlet heads of bottle-brush flowers, thrusting its way through the low-growing shrubs and leather-leaved matipo. ‘Look.’ She handed the glasses back to Reid. ‘A Poor Knights lily.’
‘They’re rare, aren’t they?’ He lifted the binoculars to his eyes.
‘Not here, but they were only discovered in the 1920s. There’s a native broom too, that only grows here and on East Cape.’
He looked down at her as he lowered the binoculars. ‘Taken up nature study, have you?’
‘No, but I’m not illiterate,’ Annys said tartly. ‘I borrowed some books from the library before coming on this voyage.’
Beside them the photographer gave an exclamation of satisfaction and began snapping pictures.
Reid took Annys’s arm and moved her further along with him. ‘We’re in this together,’ he said very quietly, ‘whether we like it or not. For the sake of the others on board, do you think we could make an effort to be civil to each other? It might help if you didn’t read some insult into every word I say to you.’
‘I’d really rather you didn’t bother to say anything to me,’ she said hotly.
‘That’s obvious,’ he snapped. ‘To everyone. It’s creating an atmosphere already, and that’s not fair to people who hoped to have a relaxing, enjoyable holiday.’