by James Hanley
Not on this man's sea, oh, not on this man's sea.
Swing along, old timer, swing along.'
'Listen to that,' Vesuvius said. 'There's homesickness for you.'
'My ears are shut fast,' Williams said.
'It pleases them, what matter. Let them sing their insides out.'
'Hello there, Rochy. Where you making for?'
'Me! Oh, I'm making my way slowly along some place,' he replied, smiling at them. He went on his way.
'I can tell you where he's going,' Vesuvius said. 'He's going to see nice Mr. bloody Walters about that fellow Marvellous or something, I don't know his name exact.'
'Then keep yours ears open,' O'Grady said. 'His name was Marvel.'
'Silly cow,' Williams said.
'Words can't touch him. Wasting your breath, Williams. Besides, to you, everybody's a silly cow sometime or other.'
'You got to say something sometimes case you explode just from keeping it damped down all the bloody time.'
'Listen 'em. Listen 'em in there?'
'I suppose they're silly cows too, eh!' Vesuvius said, grinning.
'I don't know,' Williams said.
'Swing along, old timer, swing along.
There is no ship that man can call his own.
Swing along. Swing along.'
'That's why we're wanted aft at five bells, anyhow,' O'Grady said.
'That's why,' Vesuvius said. 'To see a good man go down to sea.'
Williams went over and sat down on the hatch, spread out his legs, leaned forward, arms on his knees, hands clasped. He looked at the bulkhead, painted grey, covered with grease, oil, coal-dust. Below, the scuppers. They were clean. Vesuvius joined him. O'Grady and Turner leaned against the lavatory door, O'Grady with his head well back resting against the top of the door, which was partly open and on the hook. Vesuvius lay back on the hatch, stretched his legs, put his hands behind his head, looked up at the sky.
'Time hangs. It's like hell!' he said.
'Is it? New to me,' Williams said. 'Looks like you're getting the Channel fever too. H'm. I'm surprised at you, Vesuvius. I am.'
'Nothing in this whole world would ever surprise me, Mr. bloody Williams. Nothing. I was thinking yesterday how nearly a week ago we were talking and laughing down this hatch. Remember? And all those chaps talking and laughing there till their backsides shook, you might say. And everybody happy as larryo. And now here we are lying on this hatch and there's nothing in it, nothing. It's so quiet, too. Though amidships there's always noise, always something happening. Walters is a swine, but, d'you know, I've bin altering my opinion in many ways. About him. Yes. He's up to his bloody eyes in it and I don't envy him his job, and he can have all the nice eats and all the best booze in that storeroom, I wouldn't exchange it for his job.'
'No?' said Williams. 'And he couldn't exchange anything for Marvel, who he drove to death, and that's the truth on it. I knew that glass-back and he were a decent cove. Had a missus he said, and three kids. Ah! A man's a fool to get married if he's a deep-water man. It breaks you up in the end. You can't be in two places at once. No man can mind his job thinking of his family at home. Maybe that fellow discovered his mistake. I gave half a quid to that collection today. You give anything, Vesuvius?' He lay on the hatch himself now.
'I gave five bob, all I could spare. I reckon if every man aboard gives a few bob his missus won't be so badly off. And the kids could go to the seamen's orphanage. They'd get a decent schooling.'
'What about his missus?' asked Williams.
'I dunno. Suppose she'll get married again like they generally do. I agree with you though. Deep-water men should stay single. When a deep-sea sailor gets married it's like a man getting married in his sleep. He doesn't know what it means. I'm glad I'm not married.'
A quartermaster came along the well-deck. Williams called to him.
'How's she going, quartermaster?' he asked.
'Fine. Sixteen and a quarter.' He whistled his way for'ard.
'What she make yesterday then?' called out Vesuvius.
'Three-fifty-eight,' the quartermaster called back, never looking their way.
'Those blokes have it easy, no mistake about it.'
'Don't be crazy. Nobody has it easier than us, you mean. Why, man, we hasn't a single responsibility in the whole wide world. Think of it.'
'I am,' Williams said. 'I am.'
'They reckon we'll be home in three or four days now. Now what d'you expect'll happen?' asked Vesuvius. He sat up again on the hatch.
'Ask me,' replied Williams. 'From what I've heard every port in England is chock-full of ships. Ships empty and ships full. Don't suppose anybody'll he expecting us, anyhow. I remember I was on a bleeder and we missed a mine by the skin of our teeth and 'nother ship got it – right for'ard and all the fo'c'sle crowd were killed. Well, d'you know when we got home everybody was surprised to see us. I was having a drink in a pub and a chap I know came up to me and said, "Well, I'll be— and so, why I thought you were dead?" '
' "Am I? Do I look like it," I said to him. "Have a drink on me." '
' "But you were supposed to be sunk. All hands killed. Weren't you?" '
'Goddam, I laughed and laughed. 'N the way he said it, like he thought I should have been killed and my blasted ship should have been hit by that mine. "And what the hell, why aren't you dead in your grave?" Well, you could have tapped me on the head with a sledge-hammer and I wouldn't have felt it. I was too surprised. No. If you ask me anything, we'll drop anchor in the river. Then we'll go ashore by tender. But there'll be a big to-do. There always is. They make a damn fuss about nothing. But with the saloon full of wounded and the balmy ones aft, well this man's ship will be made a fuss of. All I want to do is put my bag on my back and clear to hell out of her. This time I'm making no mistake. I'm taking the first Western Ocean ship I can find and there I'm staying. That's the best of having no responsibilities, see, Vesuvius. A man can do what he likes, go where he pleases. Now that skipper can't. No, sir. He has to stay put. Do the things he's told to and say nothing. And on top of that,' but at this point the speaker stopped and got up. 'Going to my bunk,' he said. Vesuvius watched him go.
He got up too, but went to the rail and looked over. Same as yesterday and the day before. Water. Though now it was changing colour, from blue to deep green. Spouts of water from the drains ran down the plates, and Vesuvius watched it flow, watched the rise and fall of the water, waves, cascades of foam, heard the music it made, tones and semitones of sound. All the same to him. It was just water. Moving along. Water, water, water. He turned away and went into the fo'c'sle. He passed O'Grady and Devine without looking at them. They were silent, ignoring each other, looking a little bored, both staring down the deck. Sometimes they watched a hat move up on the bridge, then a head would appear, eyes would look their way. They stared back. They were here, some were below, every man did his job.
'When a man's been kept so busy he hasn't had even a chance to blow his nose, and then all of a sudden he finds time hanging on his hands, he gets fed up, bored stiff. What d'you say, O'Grady?'
'I could do with a drink, that's all I know,' replied O'Grady. 'That tot of rum last night was nice temptation to a man, I must say.'
'Nothing to look at 'cept the bloody sea,' Turner said. He turned round and passed up the alleyway.
O'Grady was left sitting on the hatch by himself. 'Aye!' he said to himself. 'A nice little drink and I'd feel as happy as the day I was born. But where'd a man get a drink on this lousy ship? A damn stinker, the kind of ship other ships dodge, the kind of ship that gets lost and nobody gives a damn. Ah! I said all along this giving a ship a number wasn't right. No, sir. A ship has a name and when you take it away then she's no ship any more. I been on ships, scores of ships, but never one like this. Blindfold the devil and he wouldn't make a mistake. No. He'd pick one like this. A bunch of loonies aft, and scores of poor sods in the saloon there, lying about there, nobody gives a damn about them. You did your bi
t, soldiers. To hell with you now. That's the stuff to give 'em. Ah! Just wait till this ship docks. I'll show her my backside in double quick time.'
Stepping from the hatch he dug his hands into his pockets and began walking up and down the well-deck. He could see that hat still moving about on the bridge. That hat on the head, the head with all the information inside, and the secrets for next trip. H'm! Well, he could keep his bloody secrets, and he could have the whole stinking war to himself. Yes, sir.
'I'll be aboard the first American packet I set my eyes on. Good men are scarce. I know what I'm aiming for. I must have been tight as a lord when I signed on this bitch of a ship. That cute old cow on the gangway wasn't far wrong. The rats'll get her one day. Sure thing.'
He began whistling a tune, swinging his step to it. He could still hear those others singing inside.
'Swing along, old timer, swing along.
Where's the ship a man can call his own?
'Aye! Where was it? Not on any of the seven seas, by God.'
O'Grady went to the bosun's room. Knocked on the door. Opened it.
Mr. Tyrer was sitting on the settee, busy going through the contents of his bag. He held a pair of darned socks in his hand.
' 'Lo, Bos',' O'Grady said. 'Looks like you're busy, eh? I can lend you a pair of socks,' he went on, laughing, leaning his bulk against the half-opened door.
'Now what the hell you want, O'Grady?' asked Mr. Tyrer. He threw down the socks and folded his arms. 'What d'you want?'
Laughing, O'Grady said he felt lonely. Would Mr. Tyrer tell him a little fairy-tale? He hadn't seen a cheery face since he stepped aboard her. On the other hand, failing the fairy-tale, there was one other compensation, he concluded. He put a foot on the brass step, looked earnestly and anxiously at Mr. Tyrer.
'Why do good men get tempted, Mr. Bosun?' he asked.
'Ah! Only two men ever called to my room and asked for a drink, in that round-about way. Now listen to me, O'Grady. If I give you a short one will you keep the matter a secret? I got a little drop in a bottle here, and if it got around, why, man, I wouldn't have a second's rest until it was all gone. And you know, being a sensible man, you know one has to keep a drop always handy in case of accidents.'
'Plenty of accidents aboard here, Bosun,' O'Grady said, laughing.
'Come in,' Mr. Tyrer said. 'And shut that bloody door.'
He liked O'Grady. He was a good sailor. He liked all his men. Nothing would have pleased him better than to have been able to go into the fo'c'sle and, placing a full bottle of whisky on the table, call out: 'A drink for every man jack of you. Help yourselves.' But he couldn't do that. In any case it wasn't allowed, had never been heard of, at least not in his remembering.
'Sit down, man,' he said. 'Sit down.'
'How's things looking to you, Bosun?' asked O'Grady, taking a seat on the greasy, dirty, red plush settee. 'Heard anything lately. Anything fresh?'
'How'd you mean?' asked Mr. Tyrer. 'Here! It's only a drop, but it'll wet your whistle, anyhow. How'd you mean? Anything fresh?'
'Well, for one thing, where're we going to? That's what I'd like to know.'
'Home, of course. Where'd you think? Suppose you have a home?'
'Aye! I've got a home all right, Bosun, but this man doesn't think about it much. Least not till he's fairly certain in his mind that the ship is going this way. I have my doubts about all this talk of going home, Mr. Bosun, not that I'm over worried about it, a bit of land coming over the horizon is home to me any old time. So you think we're going home, eh?'
'Course we are, you damned fool. Three-fifty-eight miles nearer home by the log last night. Aye! We're returning, O'Grady, and the rumour is that we won't even get into the river. I'll tell you why. This'n has to be cleaned right out. All those soldiers got to be put ashore, a string of ambulances will be waiting on the quay, but us fellers'll never see that quay, O'Grady. We get cleaned inside out, fumigated, you know, and some folk will come aboard and have a chat to the Captain, d'you see, and then we're set for another trip. Understand? This boat is fixed, she's on a job, she goes on and on, at least whilst this war business lasts. Now I was talking to Mr. Deveney about one or two things. He was saying that he had an idea the men were glad they were going home—'
'Aren't we?' asked O'Grady, putting the empty glass back on Mr. Tyrer's chest of drawers. 'Aren't we, then?'
'Not by a long chalk. Now, see what kind of man Mr. Deveney is. I said to him, "Well, sir, so far as I know it's understood by everybody for'ard that we're returning home." What did he say? Well, first he laughed. Then he said, "Ah, Bosun, that's the bloody fun of it. They think they're going home, but they're not really." Well, you could have knocked me down with a pin. Fact. With a little lousy pin. There's the fairy tale for you, happy ending and all.'
Mr. Tyrer then sat back and laughed.
'I could have told you that two days ago, Bosun. D'you suppose you've surprised me? Not on your life. I knew all along. This ship'll keep to open water. Never touch land again. I had that feeling a long time. There'll be more tenders and more soldiers, more canvas awnings and more wire bunks, more chicken sandwiches, Bosun, and plenty of inoculations and then out with the boats you bonny sailor lads and off they go for their Turkish tarts. Ah! I know, Bosun. I'm no dud. Some folk think all sailors are duds. It makes me want to rush round the corner and do something. Mind you, even you may be wrong. If this ship drops her cable in the river, any confounded river you like to name, and these men can't get ashore, why, there'll be a bloody riot, Bosun, and I'm telling you fair now so you'll know. So you won't be saying "Then why didn't you fellers open your mouths and say something?" I can tell you of at least seven men who are jacking out of her soon's they see any land that looks like home to them. Thanks for the short one Bos'. You're a good sort. So-long.'
And without another word O'Grady got up and left the room. He stopped at the door to ask, 'Want it shut, open on the hook, Bosun?'
'No, shut it,' the bosun said.
'Sure.' The door slammed. O'Grady returned to the fo'c'sle.
'Getting near five bells,' Turner was saying.
'Aye! But don't over worry yourself,' Williams said. 'You know everything is crazy flat since this ship turned her behind on the Turkish coast. Can't we do something? What about a game of cards?'
'There's Tyrer coming out of his room. I can always tell the way he slams his door,' Vesuvius said, half hanging out of his bunk.
'Tell me something, friends,' he cried aloud, 'where's those other fellers got to? I haven't seen a single one of the watch come for'ard.'
'They're down in the 'tween-decks, collecting rubbish. Soon's we put this chap down to the water we got to go below and carry on the cleaning up,' O'Grady said, 'and findings is keepings, fellers.'
'Hell of a lot you'll find down there,' Turner growled.
'Reckon Mr. Hump found something nice down that way the other night,' Vesuvius said. 'D'you ever see such a comical-looking bastard as him with his top-hat on? My! His chief, bless his belly, he wasn't half in a rage. He said no night prayers that night.'
He climbed down to the deck, sat down on the form, ran his fingers through his hair.
'All right fellers.' The bosun was calling them out.
One after another they slouched their way over the step, assembled on the well-deck.
Mr. Tyrer counted them. 'Where's the others?'
'Hanging about, I reckon,' Williams said. 'Some are asleep still.'
'Right. Get on the poop, O'Grady and Turner. You, Williams and Vesuvius, take the man from the wheel-house to the poop. I'll be there.'
He went up the alleyway calling loudly, 'Show a leg there, you men. Show a leg there. Sleeping away what damn brains you got.'
He stood there waiting for signs of life. He heard the others dragging their feet aft. He saw a leg appear, then a head, then a man jumped out of his bunk.
'Coming, Bosun,' this man said. 'Coming.'
'I should bloody well think so
. But remember all the good men are already on the poop. We're waiting for fellers like you. Hurry up.'
He went to the end of the alleyway, but stopped there. He would not go farther until he saw the remainder of the watch moving along in front of him. Whilst he waited he looked across the waters, looked as O'Grady had looked, and Williams and Vesuvius. There was nothing to see except water.
Were they really in the bloody wilderness? Were they really going round in circles? Were they really moving? And when were they going to see some signs of life? Another ship maybe. That damn bell hadn't rung in the nest for days. He was certain of that. Hadn't he been listening all the time, listening whilst lying on his bunk, listening and wondering like the rest of them? A cakewalk for those fellers on the look-out job and no mistake. A cakewalk. And no dirty business for them. Oh no. Well, he was getting used to seeing good men going over the side. It couldn't mean anything much to him now. Besides, a man couldn't be keeping his mind shut up, holding the one thing in it all the time. A man had to break free sometime, climb above the ship and all the goddam water, and think of something other than a war, and a decoy ship and a bleeder and a crusader's ship, and a loonies' ship, yes, a man had to do that sometimes.
'I ask him, "What is happening?" and he says, "We're moving along." '
'I ask another, "What you think about all the different rumours?" and he says, "Nothing. No man what's wise thinks anything, just does his job, keeps his gob shut, minds no business but his own." '
'I ask meself,' "What's happening, Bosun?" and my mind says, "Why that you're sailing home to your missus." '
He was laughing now.
'Ah! so you're out at bloody last. Get along there, for Christ's sake. Think the whole ship's going to be held up whilst you rub the muck out of your eyes? What's wrong with you fellers is you've got too much on your mind. And when a man has too much on his mind it means he hasn't enough work to do. You'll get right up to the poop and the others'll be waiting there for you. We're putting that young steward over and I hope to God it's the last. A man can stand a lot sometimes, but not always. But of course if you're one of these thinking men like the Captain or Mr. Deveney you can't stand nothing.'