“There she is, then,” said Para Handy with some pride. “Iss she not the beauty?”
There was an awkward silence.
“Is this it, then?” Napier asked finally. “I mean, where’s the rest of your crew for a start…”
“Oh,” said the Captain, “Jum wull be back at any meenit, he has chust gone ashore for some provisions ass I was determined to mak’ a start ass soon ass you got here. We have lost two days already and our customer is becoming impatient at the delay, he has been sending telegraphs to the owner’s office to say so.”
Napier looked no more at his ease. “So — er — this ‘Jum’: is he my stoker, or my greaser, or my machine-man? And whichever he is, where are the other two? And how the blazes does your regular man find enough space for them all to carry out their duties in a cupboard like this?”
Para Handy stared at the relief engineer uncomprehendingly.
“Jum iss our deckhand and cook,” he said: “and a good cook he has become over the years, you will be well fed aboard the shup I can assure you! But Jum has no business effer to be in the enchine-room at aal: it iss your own responsibulity entirely and neither Jum nor nobody else wull interfere with that, I can promise you .”
Napier gaped on the Captain. “D’you mean to tell me you are sailing with jist one man in the engine-room? What happens when he’s asleep in his bunk?”
“What do you mean ‘what happens’?” retorted the Captain. “What do you think happens? Nothing happens! When he’s off-watch then efferybody’s off-watch.”
Napier blanched. “When I saw the vessel, I had to admire your courage in undertaking the voyage and I was prepared at least to consider sailing with you for I’ve never been known to shrink from my duty. But with no proper crew — man, you’re all mad! You will never, never make it to Canada in this tub!”
“Canada,” exclaimed Para Handy. “For peety’s sake, who the duvvle said onythin’ aboot Canada? What do you think this is — the Allan line? We’re chust takin’ some coals in to Canna. Does Dougie look the sort of a man who would risk the North Atlantic in anything smaaller than the Olympic? As for me, a Macfarlane neffer shurked, but there are lumits!”
The other looked mightily relieved. “Well,” he said, “I have been sent here under false pretences, for I’m a deep-sea man myself, waiting to take up the Chief’s post on the new Ben Line ship that’s fitting out at Fairfields right now, and when I asked at the Docks Office yesterday about the chance of a berth to fill in the time, they told me that you were looking for an engineer for a round-trip — to Canada!
“That clerk must have cloth ears! And I must say you gave me the devil of a fright! What’s more, I take my hat off to your own engineer: I’m too spoiled by having a huge squad at my beck and call. I could no more run this engine-room on my own than I could navigate to Australia — your man’s worth his weight in gold and I hope you realise it.”
Para Handy and Dougie were delighted, on their return to the boat thirty minutes later after they had treated Napier to a dram to compensate for the waste of his time, to discover that not only was Sunny Jim back — as expected — and frying sausages in the fo’c’sle, but Macphail himself was esconced among his engines and examining them anxiously to see if they had come to any harm during his absence.
“Dan!” cried the Captain, beaming with enthusiasm, “we are fair delighted to see you back! What happened to the appendix?”
“Appendix my eye,” replied the Engineer. “It wis naethin’ but a bad spell o’ indigestion and the Hospital wisnae weel pleased wi’ ma ain Doctor for gettin’ it wrang.
“Huv I missed much?”
“Nothing at aal, Dan,” said Para Handy. “Nothing at aal. There wass some talk of takin’ her to Canada” — the Engineer paled — “but, och, it came to nothing, it wass chust a baur. Let us chust get some steam up, and we will tell you aal aboot it some other time.”
FACTNOTE
The Gantock Rocks lie about half-a-mile south-east of Dunoon Pier and must have claimed many maritime victims large and small over the centuries, particularly in poor visibility and rough seas. Although they are now well-lit, and in spite of all the modern aids to navigation, they still do — as was demonstrated by our last and much-loved paddler Waverley, which was stranded on the reef but fortunately with no casualties and no serious damage to her hull.
The largest ship ever to have been sunk by the Gantocks was the Swedish ore carrier Akka which went down in April 1956. Six of her crew were lost in the tragedy, which was apparently caused by steering-failure when she slowed down in order to pick up the river-pilot for her voyage upstream to Glasgow. The 5,500 ton ship, with an overall length of 440ft, struck the reef on her port side, ripping a huge hole in the hull, and remained afloat for only a matter of a few minutes.
The White Star liner Olympic was built in the Belfast yard of Harland and Wolff and handed over to her owners on May 31st 1911, the same day on which her sister Titanic was launched. An overall length of nearly 900ft ensured that these new ships far exceeded their German and Cunard rivals in size as well as in the opulence of their accommodations. They were designed to deliver profits as well as prestige, though, being powered by newly-developed engine systems which combined efficiency with economy, and capable of carrying 2,500 fare-paying passengers in three classes.
Hidden from these passengers were the echoing caverns of the engine room and, worst horror of all, the stokehold where (till the use of oil-fuel rendered their thankless, repetitive tasks redundant) armies of men laboured on the backbreaking work of coaling the furnaces for the 29 boilers which powered the ship.
Known in the shipboard slang of the period as the ‘Black Gang’, most of the stokers employed on the British Transatlantic fleet were Liverpool Irish. Harsh conditions bred harsh men and stories of quarrels and sometimes lethal fights — usually among themselves, though occasionally with other members of the crew and even more rarely with particularly brutal Officers — are a part of the legend and lore of the age. However they invariably maintained good relations with the galley, which they provided with fuel and whose fires they helped maintain. In return, the cooks passed to the stokehold men what became known as the ‘Black Pan’ — uneaten food left over from the sumptuous menus provided to First Class Passengers.
The ‘Black Pan’ was at its bounteous best during spells of bad weather — the more prolonged, the better!
52
May the Best Man Win
Para Handy and Dougie were seated in Castle Gardens in Dunoon watching the world go by on the esplanade below them. It was the middle of July, the weather was set fine, and the town was packed with holidaymakers and day visitors. A quarter of a mile away at the Coal Pier a thin drizzle of smoke rose skywards from the black-topped red funnel of the Vital Spark, awaiting a consignment of logs to be carted down from Glen Masson.
There was a sudden buzz of interest on the thronged pavement and a scatter of applause, and a wedding-party came into sight and headed for the Argyll Hotel. Bride and groom occupied the first carriage-and-pair and in a second one, following closely behind, were bridesmaids, the best man, and the ushers.
“A wedding,” sighed Para Handy sentimentally. “I can neffer see wan but I think aboot my own.”
“And I neffer see wan but I try to forget aboot my own,” said the Mate gloomily.
“Neffer!” said Para Handy, “Lisa iss a fine, managing wumman if a bit headstrong chust now and then, and you have a family to be proud of. Brutain’s hardy sons!”
“Aye,” replied the Mate, yet more gloomily still. “All twelve of them.”
Para Handy felt it was time to focus his companion’s attention elsewhere.
“Hurricane Jeck wass best man at a weddin’ in Oban a few years back,” he observed. “Man, they still taalk aboot it in the toon to this day!
“I wass ashore myself on leave at the time, and met Jeck hurryin’ up Buchanan Street towards the railway station.
“ ‘Th
e very man,’ says Jeck. ‘I have time for chust the wan wee gless before my train leaves, and I need your advice, Peter.’
“Jeck had been asked earlier in the week by an old frien’ of his from Barra if he wud be his best man, he wass being merrit next day in Oban on a Kilmore gyurl, and this wass Jeck heading for the train for the two of them wass to meet up in Oban that night, and stay over at the Crown Hotel before the wedding the following morning.
“ ‘What it is, Peter,’ says Jeck, quite flustered, ‘iss that I havna a notion whit’s expected of me. You know me, Peter, I’ve made dam’ sure never to be tied doon, and the result iss that I have neffer effer been at any wedding in my naitural, neffer mind my own!
“ ‘So tell me, what’s a best man, and what’s he to do?’
“Weel, I gave Jeck a quick run through on the duties and the responsubilities o’ best men: he didna like the bit aboot answering the toast to the bridesmaids, said he wassna much for public speaking, but I told him not to worry, by that time in the proceedings efferybody would have had a gless or two and the place would be fine and cheery.
“ ‘The most important thing you have to do, Jeck, is to get the bridegroom to the kirk on time, smertly turned oot, and above aal else — sober. Every bride’s mither aye thinks that nobody is good enough for her lass, and if the gyurl’s intended turns up late, and looking ass if he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, and reekin’ o’ spurits, then I promise you that that merriage iss off to the worst of aal possible sterts.’
“ ‘Thanks Peter,’ says Jeck, looking at the clock in the public hoose we wass in, ‘I wull remember. On time, smert, sober. You can rely on me!’
“And with a quick shake o’ the haund, he was off like a whippet to catch his train.
“It wass some months before I heard what way things had gone for Jeck and his frien’ in Oban. The news wassna good and the cheneral feeling wass that neither was the prognostications for the merriage.
“The groom wass a MacNeil from Castlebay, a fine, cheery chap wi’ shouthers on him like an ox, by name o’ Wullie. He wass in the Navy at the time, and he’d met the bride the previous summer when the fleet wass in Oban, and she wass workin’ ass a waitress at a wee temperance hotel at the back o’ the toon. The two of them met at the Argyllshire Gaithering in August and by the time Wullie’s ship sailed at the end of September, he wass an engaged man. The gyurl — Constance, her name wass, but she answered to Connie — wass a MacRobb from Kilmore.
“Her faimily didna take too kindly to the news that she wass engaged to a sailor — though they’d neffer met him and didna really know mich aboot him — but Connie assured them he wass a true and considerate chentleman, and then she spent the winter saving money and gaithering together aal the bits and pieces for her bottom drawer.
“Wullie couldna get ony leave till the wedding itself, so aal the arrangements had to be left to the MacRobb faimily. They booked the kirk — St Andrews, on the esplanade: and promised a fine reception efter, wi’ places for 40 o’ Wullie’s faimily and frien’s from Castlebay.
“On the evening Jeck arrived in Oban Wullie wass all on his own for the Barra fowk wass comin’ to Oban overnight on the steamer and wudna get there till the morning. So they had agreed that efferybody would mak’ their ain way to the Kirk, and chust meet up there for the service at eleven o’clock.
“Jeck met Wullie at the Crown Hotel, ass arranged, and the two of them exchanged news, aal very quiet and restrained, and had a fish tea in the hotel dining-room.
“ ‘I am seeing you’re early to your bed tonight, Wullie,” said Jeck firmly, ‘for it iss my responsubility to deliver you to the Kirk on time and in appropriate trum for the occasion.’
“And the two of them agreed they would have chust a ten minute stroll on the esplanade, and then go to their rooms.
“This wass the point at which things sterted to go seriously wrong for, while they wass at their teas, they hadna noticed that a naval cruiser had come into Oban Bay and when they got to the esplanade, the toon wass chust hotching wi’ seamen, and worst of aal, it wass the shup Wullie had been on till chust three months earlier, so aalmost efferyone o’ the navy that the two of them encountered on the pavements wass a friend of the groom’s — and when they heard that he wass getting merried the next day, they chust wouldna tak’ no for an answer in relation to the matter of a gless of somethin’ to celebrate.
“I would like to think that Jeck did his best to protect Wullie from himself, but I am chust not sure. It would have been hard enough to protect Wullie from Jeck in normal circumstances. And I do not know exactly what happened, for the two main players in the game have no recollection of it, for reasons that wull become obvious, and I canna very well ask the Navy to hold an unquisition into it aal.
“The pair foond themselves press-ganged by aal Wullie’s former shupmates, and soon they wass in among a lerge perty of sailors visiting aal the public hooses of Oban wan by wan, and bringing an unfectious air of goodwull and happiness wi’ them whereffer they went.
“The following ten hours or so iss a mystery and Jeck’s next connection wi’ reality cam’ at aboot nine o’clock the followin’ morning when he woke up, fully clothed, underneath wan o’ the airches o’ McCaig’s Folly above the toon. Efter less than a meenit — he wass aalways very quick makin’ a recovery from this sort of situation, he’d had lots o’ practice — Jeck remembered where he wass, and why. And realised that there wass no sign of Wullie!
“But chust then, he heard somebody snoring, very loud, and a wee investigation resulted in the discovery of Wullie asleep under the next airchway, and in a terrible state! Jeck realised that he probably looked jist as bad, but he hadna a mirror aboot his person. Wullie’s clothes was aal damp and stained green wi’ the gress he’d slept on, he’d lost his collar and tie, his hair wass a mess and he wass in sair need of a shave. Possibly worst of aal wass that for some reason that Jeck could not fathom or remember, Wullie had a whupper o’ a bleck eye.
“Jeck woke him urchently and reminded him whit day it wass.
“ ‘My Cot,’ says Wullie, ‘we must get back to the Hotel and get bathed and shaved and changed. It’s less than two hours to the wedding!’
“If Jeck had thought things couldna get ony worse, he wass very wrang. When they got to the Hotel, the proprietor wouldna let them in. Apparently they’d rolled up to the hotel aboot two in the mornin’, wi’ a whole perty o’ sailors, demanded drinks aal roond, and threatened his person when he refused. They had only left when the owner sent for the polis.
“ ‘Well at least let us get oor clothes,’ Jeck pleaded. ‘The man iss getting merried at eleven o’clock.’
“Heaven help the bride,’ said the hotelier, ‘but I’ll gi’e ye back yer stuff — wance ye settle the bill.’ Jeck and Wullie went through their pockets — but they didna have a penny piece between them.
“ ‘In that case,’ said the hotelier, ‘I’m holding onto your luggage till ye pay what’s owin’. That’s the law, that’s what I’m entitled to do, and that’s what I’m doing.’
“Jeck pleaded and better pleaded, but the man wouldna budge an inch. The two of them made the best attempt to tidy up they could in the waash-room at the station, then hurried out along the esplanade to the Kirk.
“I dinna ken what the Meenister thought, but he said nothing though he had bad news for Wullie. ‘I didna realise you wass coming over in advance’ (Wullie hadna a clue what he meant by that) ‘but the rest of your folk are coming on the overnight boat, aren’t they?’ he asked and Wullie nodded. ‘Weel, I’m afraid to tell you she had a biler failure and she’ll no’ be in Oban till two this efternoon. I presume you wull want to put the weddin’ off till then?’ And when Wullie said no, just to go ahead, the Minister looked puzzled, and said he would have to send word to the bride and her party, but they could be there in under half-an-hour. Wullie didna understand that, neither.
“So it wass twenty minutes past eleven when Wullie and J
eck took their places at the fore-end of the altar, wi’ naebody in their side of the Kirk at aal, and naethin’ but strangers — the bride’s pairty — on the ither.
“The organ struck up Here comes the Bride and Jeck and Wullie wass aware of the gyurl and her attendants comin’ up the aisle and when they reached alangside and Wullie turned to smile at her he foond himsel’ lookin’ at a total stranger. ‘Who on earth are you?’ screamed the bride, and Wullie said he could ask her the same thing. The Meenister near threw a fit and said angrily to Wullie, ‘What sort o’ shame are you bringin’ to St Antonys wi’ a stupid prank like that!’ ‘St Antonys’ yelped Jeck, ‘I thought this wass St Andrews?’
“ ‘Naw, said the Meenister, furious, ‘St Andrews is a hunner yerds further along the front. Our groom is a fine young man from Colonsay and his faimily, but the boat has broke doon, which iss why I couldna think how this groom got here at aal.’
“So Jeck and Wullie were an hour late for the real weddin’, and by that time the bride wass chust gettin’ ready to go hame for she thought she’d been left at the altar. She wass ready enough to tear Wullie to bits, whateffer his condition or excuses, but when she saw the state of him and the best man, and gaithered what had been going on, she near enough did go hame.
“Eventually the wedding went ahead. Things didna get ony better efterwards, neither, though by noo Jeck wass past caring and in any case the trouble wass being caused by Wullie’s faimily.
“What neither Wullie nor Jeck, nor the faimily, had known wass that the MacRobbs and their kin wass strict teetotallers, very staunch Rechabites to a man, and the reception wass in the Oban Temperance Halls without a refreshment in sight.
“The MacNeils spent their time ignoring the bride’s pairty and complaining loudly about the lack of Highland hospitality and how they’d been brought aal the way from Barra under false pretences and I am ashamed to say that some of them went out to the toon for a gless, and brought several bottles back wi’ them for the rest o’ the company.
Complete New Tales of Para Handy Page 39