A Ravel of Waters

by Geoffery Jenkins

  ‘ had to get out tonight, and I had to prevent the Almirante Storni from pursuing me!

  My nerves were too wrought-up to wait another hour for my council of war. I decided to summon the team now.

  I picked up the phone, dialled Kay's cabin. 'Will you come to my quarters right away?'

  'Is there anything wrong? You said ten o'clock.'

  'I know. Nothing's wrong - yet.'

  ‘I’ll be right there.'

  Brockton was not in his cabin but in the radio office with Arno. I decided to collect Tideman from the bridge en route to the meeting.

  I found the bridge with its lighted consoles and static dial lights like a stage waiting for the players to enter.

  'Everything okay?' I asked Tideman.

  'Aye - just checking the hydraulics. All three diesels are operating.'

  ‘I’ve put the time of our meeting forward - it's now.'

  He gave me a searching glance - perhaps I was showing more tension than I was aware of.

  He said to the helmsman - one of his own sailor-paratroopers, ‘I’ll be in the captain's cabin. Call me if anything crops up.'

  'Aye, aye, sir.'

  My cabin, reached via the chartroom and navigation office, was beneath the starboard wing of the bridge. Kay and Brockton were waiting. The place was warm compared to the chill of the decks; wooden panelling made it additionally snug. It was quiet, too: no creak or murmur of the ship's fabric penetrated the rubber buffer strips on the doors and sound insulation behind the panelling. The accommodation was luxurious, if I'd had time to enjoy it.

  I locked the door and waved the three of them into comfortable seats while I leaned against my big desk. Kay had shed her working rig in favour of navy slacks and pale mauve blouse under a jersey-knit waistcoat whose cut emphasized the line of her breasts, making her look twice as feminine.

  ‘I’m not going to beat about the bush,' I started off. 'I intend taking the ship out tonight.'

  For a moment there was startled silence. Kay jumped up and hugged me spontaneously, and Brockton pump-handled my hand.

  'I always knew you were a one-way guy, Peter!' he exclaimed delightedly.

  However, my words seemed to produce most effect upon Tideman. He was looking directly at me when I made my announcement. There was a split-second fire burst behind his eyes; his face went taut like an instant face-lift.

  'Now?' he jerked out. 'Now? I can be under way in ten minutes...'

  I laughed and shook my head. Kay was still close enough for me to detect a trace of perfume.

  She said enthusiastically, 'I thought I was keen to go, John! Ten minutes!'

  Tideman seemed oblivious of her, and said to me, 'What's our course to the Cape? What's our course!’

  Brockton's momentary euphoria also vanished. He repeated Tideman's question. 'Yes - the course, Peter?'

  'You're all rather jumping the gun,' I said. 'First, I need your help, each one of you. I want to discuss the logistics of the break-out...'

  'Break-out?' repeated Tideman. 'That's a strong word.'

  'And I mean it,' I answered. 'Listen .. .' I outlined my interview with Dawson and his veiled threat to enlist the Almirante Storni against Jetwind, When I came to Captain Mortensen's suspected murder, Kay looked very grave.

  'I felt all along that there was something about that so-called accident. It was impossible, as far as the furling mechanism was concerned,' she said.

  'Murder only adds to our problems, I pointed out. 'It strengthens Dawson's hand, in fact. It could, in fact, give him some justification for calling upon the Almirante Storni for assistance.'

  'Which means that the destroyer would pursue Jetwind once Captain Irizar discovers the bird has flown,' added Brockton.

  Until then Tideman had been the perfect officer, highly efficient, deferential, somewhat Navy-formal. Now the mettle of the man who on three occasions had bull-whipped racing yachts through the wildest seas in the world broke through.

  He rose impatiently. 'What the devil have we been waiting for - we've lost hours! The wind's been good since this afternoon! We could have been away on the high seas by now!'

  'I was tempted also,' I replied. 'But there's another consideration . . .' And I explained to Kay and Tideman, with the help of Brockton, about Grohman's angry exchange with me at Comodoro Rivadavia and its disturbing political under-currents.

  'Dawson is playing along in the interest of what he terms a modus vivendi between the Falklands and Argentina,' I added. 'I don't know how Grohman fits in. However, I believe he's playing some deep game of his own.'

  'Then why did you allow for four Argentinians to join our crew as extra hands? They can only complicate the issue,' said Tideman.

  'What did you say?' I asked incredulously.

  'We didn't need any extra hands,' Tideman added.

  'You must be joking,' I said.'‘ certainly brought no one with me from the mainland.'

  'Say, remember those guys with Grohman in the plane, Peter?' asked Brockton.

  I felt the same surge of alarm as when I learned about Grohman's proposed picnic. It was another sinister straw in the wind.

  Kay added, 'There wasn't room in the foc'sle for them with the rest of our crew. Grohman has housed them in the passenger accommodation.'

  I faced their stares and said tersely, 'You have my word that I brought no crew with me.' Then I asked Tideman, 'Are the men sailors?'

  'Aye. Good ones, too, from what I could make out. They speak only Spanish.'

  'Maybe they're, crew from Grohman's old schooner and he took them on when he thought he was going to be the skipper,' I said. 'It's too late now to send them ashore, damn it, without giving the game away. Besides, there'd be too many formalities. Apart from you three, no one knows we're sailing tonight. I want to keep it that way.'

  'We're wasting our time with all this talk,' Tideman said. 'Why don't we get the sail on Jetwind now?'

  'Sorry, John. Until the Almirante Storni actually puts her nose into The Narrows, Jetwind does not budge.'

  'Why?' He looked at me as if I were mad,

  'What's behind the stalling?' asked Brockton.

  I looked at each in turn as I explained. 'I summoned you here tonight because I felt I knew you well enough to trust you in an extreme situation. Equally, I hope you will trust me. I'm saying this because I realize that there are questions in your minds whose answers you will have to take on trust.'

  'Such as?' asked Tideman.

  'I have taken a major decision for which I alone can assume the responsibility. It is a captain's decision. I will tell you what I intend to do once the Almirante Storni shows up in The Narrows. I alone will have to take the rap for the consequences. I do not wish to implicate you. The matter is too serious. If you don't know in advance you cannot be held responsible after the event.'

  'Who by?' asked Kay.

  'International opinion for one’ I answered. 'Jetwind versus the Falklands is a powder keg ready to explode. Dawson is trying to keep the lid on by appeasing Argentina. What I intend to do tonight will trigger the explosion. It's too late now for any of you three not to sail with the ship. However, you're free to withdraw from assisting me if you feel you cannot cooperate on the basis of being only half informed.'

  'I'm with you - naturally.' Kay's voice was tense.

  'The sooner we sail, the happier I'll be,' repeated Tideman.

  Brockton said unhesitatingly, 'I go, whatever.'

  I warmed to him. But a second later, I found myself questioning his intentions when he struck what I felt was a false note. 'Oh boy, what a story!'

  'There'll be no story yet,' I retorted. 'No use of the ship's communications either.'

  'Okay, okay,' he said. 'Forget it!'

  'Now listen, Paul. There's no sign yet of the warship -I've just come from the crow's nest. That's to be your spot. I want you there for the next couple of hours. Report the moment you sight the Almirante Storni. My guess is that she'll anchor in the main fairway just outsi
de The Narrows. Then, the moment she up-anchors after that, I have to know. I have a hunch that she'll do so when the sky clears in the early hours, as I'm told it does in these parts.'

  'You can count on me all the way,' replied Brockton.

  'Fine,' I said. 'That's not all. You're an America Cup expert. You've watched those craft wring every knot out of a situation...'

  'Correction,' he smiled. 'Every hundredth of a knot. Timing is as hairline as that.'

  'Our own position is going to change like lightning,' I went on. 'Once this ship enters The Narrows, I want human, as well as mathematical, appraisal of the way things develop. So you'll use a portable analogue computer and give me - every thirty seconds, or every second, if necessary - manual feed-in. I'll make any further decisions on the basis of what yon supply. You'll be one of the most vital elements in the entire break-out operation, Paul.'

  ‘I’ll do it - and not just for the hell of it, Peter.'

  Tideman added, 'I don't know what's on your mind, Peter, but remember you have precious little room in which to manoeuvre in The Narrows - it's only three hundred metres wide.'

  'That's where I need you, too, Kay. None of us has any idea at this stage what the wind speed will be, say at two o'clock or whenever the destroyer makes her entry. There's one hell of a lot of unknown quantities at this moment. But I must have at least ten knots speed when we enter The Narrows.'

  Kay's eyes became abstracted as they always seemed to when she was busy with a calculation. 'It's a hell of a short take-off distance from anchor. Our harbour course is roughly a dog-leg, right? The first is the longer part, which will bring us to the southern entrance to The Narrows. Then, an almost right-angle change of direction to take us through-right?'

  ‘Jetwind keeps out of sight behind the intervening hills until the last moment before The Narrows,' I added. 'Our mast-head, where Paul will be stationed, is a fraction higher than the hills. So I'll keep the royals stowed until the last possible moment so there's no chance of detection. Once I set them, it will be too late - the race will be on.'

  'Too late?' queried Tideman, voicing the question which was clearly in all their minds. 'Too late for what?'

  'Sorry. That's the part of my plan you must take on blind trust. If it fails, it's the end of Jetwind. And of me.'

  Chapter 13

  There was a deathly silence, which I broke.

  'There's something else. I'm not inviting any opinions about it. I want Number Two anchor cock-billed from the end of the fore-yard from a couple of metres of chain.'

  Tideman repeated the order as if to reassure himself he was hearing right. Kay and Brockton stared in incredulous silence.

  'That's correct,' I said. 'John, that task is priority once you leave this cabin.'

  'The crew is keen to get to sea but I'm afraid this business of the anchor will appear like a rank-pulling exercise to them,' he said. 'It seems, if I may say so, utterly purposeless, especially following on your cancellation of the picnic. The old-timers had a name for it - chipping the anchor cable.'

  'I hope to change their minds before the night is out. Meanwhile, my order stands. Do it, will you, John?'

  'Of course. I wasn't speaking for myself. But haven't you forgotten Grohman? All this activity must give him an idea that something is up.'

  'I certainly haven't forgotten him. Take a look at the way I've arranged the watches. He's off duty during the vital early hours.'

  'Once you give the order to make sail Grohman - and everyone else in the ship - will know.'

  'By that time it will be too late for him to do anything, if indeed he is contemplating anything.'

  'He knows this ship, Peter, and he's a good sailor,' Tideman went on. 'One touch of the wrong button could upset everything.'

  'We must consider Grohman to be hostile because we don't know what's behind his political motivations,' I replied. I can't take any chances. But, like it or not, we're stuck with Grohman till we reach the Cape.'

  Tideman went on, 'Make no mistake, ‘I’m one hundred per cent behind the idea of getting to sea and your scheme to elude the Almirante Storni- whatever it may be. I don't want to sound as if I'm throwing cold water on it, but where is it going to get us? Or Jetwind?’

  'What are you driving at?'

  'We slip past the destroyer in The Narrows. Fine. She can't turn there, it's not wide enough. All she does then is to carry on to where the inner port opens out, make a U-turn, and come after us at full speed. She'll catch us before she's halfway to the open sea. Into the bargain, you will have deliberately provoked counter-action. I'd say it would be much better to slip away to sea at this very moment.'

  All three eyed me expectantly. I was greatly tempted to take them into my confidence. But the implications were too great. I repeated to myself what I had said to myself before, I alone would have to take the consequences.

  'I asked you earlier to take me on trust. That is still what I say.'

  Kay came tactfully to the rescue. 'You're going to make one man aboard this ship very happy - Sir James Hathaway.'

  I laughed ruefully. 'When I talked to him earlier on I was surprised he didn't rip the panelling off the bulkheads.'

  Kay steered Tideman away from something else he seemed about to say.

  'Was he still acting up and hopping mad?'

  'Let's say he'd rather go to sea in a sieve than set foot in a sailing ship again, let alone buy one.'

  'He was keen enough while Captain Mortensen put her through her paces,' added Tideman. 'But of course once Grohman took over it was a different matter.'

  'Everything always comes back to Grohman,' Brockton concluded.

  I shrugged, checked my watch, and straightened up. 'Paul, up you go to your perch in the crow's nest. Report to me on the intercom the moment you spot lights in the main fairway. Bearing, distance, position. If you have any doubts...'

  'I guess I know a Fletcher class lights as well as anyone afloat.'

  'She may be rigged up differently than when she was U.S. Navy,' I replied. 'I reckon her spot will be near Ordnance Point, in the main fairway, as I've just said.'

  'Why there?' asked Tideman. 'There's plenty of room elsewhere.'

  'Because at almost any other place one or both the beacon lights at Navy Point or Engineer Point are obscured. They are essential for her entry. In the fairway sector I'm talking about, a ship can sight both lights at the same time. I consider the Almirante Storni will anchor there to get an exact fix of her position. Later, when it's light enough to see both headlands, she'll navigate The Narrows proper.'

  I hoped I wasn't talking myself into a tailcr-made plan which made no allowance for contingencies.

  I swamped my doubts with more orders. 'Kay, I want you to keep busy at your sums. I want optimum readings and sail settings at intervals of every half an hour from now until we sail - and after too. Clear?'

  'Won't it seem odd if I'm seen on the bridge working out calculations to no apparent purpose?' she replied.

  'Use this cabin,' I said. 'Everything you need is here.'

  'Where is Grohman now?' asked Brockton. He seemed to attach more importance to the Argentinian than the rest of us.

  'Probably in his cabin - he's off watch now,' I replied.

  I rounded off the briefing. 'John, I'll take the bridge while you get on with rigging that anchor to the yard.'

  He laughed. 'Slave-driving a crew in the middle of the night in a cold wind - a bucko mate from the past, that's John Tideman!'

  His mood was infectious now that the die was cast. We all laughed with him, which broke up the party and the tension.

  The stress returned in the next hour, however, and mounted feverishly while I waited on the. bridge for a sighting report from Brockton. The wheel-house was quiet, over-bright from the strip lighting. The banks of dials gazed back unwinkingly at me. All except the anenometer read-out, which continued to log the wind's rising strength: twenty-one knots, then twenty-two. suddenly twenty-five. I resisted the te
mptation, as the minutes dragged, to check on Brockton. He knew his job, I told myself. I rejected the further temptation to pace up and down the bridge, Hornblower-like. The helmsman had nothing to do but watch me. He lounged, eyes half-shut, on his high stool by the wheel.

  Three bells - 9.30.

  Nothing from Brockton.

  Kay came in. I was glad to see her. I kept her longer than the abstruse technicalities required. When she had gone I found it harder than ever to sit out the long wait. I even found myself sweating slightly. The only distraction was the sound of Tideman's anchor gang at work.

  Four bells - 10.00. Half watch.

  To pass the time, I decided to familiarize myself further with the instrument consoles. First the main cabinet.

  The intercom buzzed making me jolt.

  I stopped in my tracks. At that moment Kay entered through a rear door. She, too, stopped. Our eyes met.

  Paul's voice vibrated. 'Warship navigation lights in the main fairway channel. Three white, forward steaming light lower than sidelights. And - ' his Navy formality cracked somewhat' -1 don't know why in hell she's showing it but it helps us - she's displaying an amber quick-flashing light about two metres above her after steaming light.'

  My throat was tight. 'Is she coming in, Paul? What's her position?'

  'Exactly where you predicted - in the fairway beyond The Narrows. Hey, wait!' 'What is it, man?'

  'She's mounted a white all-round light amidships - the steaming lights are out - gee whizz, she's anchored! Peter, she's stopped!' 'You're sure?