Surviving The Evacuation (Book 15): Where There's Hope

by Tayell, Frank

  “Bream? Is that a big fish?” she asked.

  “Not really, not the one they caught, but it’ll make an appetizer for the hound-shark that Pierre reeled in. Dozy animal came up to say hello. More fool it. Over a metre long, almost pulled Pierre over the side. Of course, give it a week, and the children will be telling it as a ferocious battle with a whale. No chips to go with it, but at least we’ll have a fish supper.”

  “I suppose that is good news. And speaking of news, I should call the admiral. Let her know where we are.” She made her way aboard, trying to think of a way to make what they’d seen sound like good news.

  Day 259

  27th November

  Chapter 11 - The Courageous Ocean Queen

  Zeebrugge & Nieuwpoort

  “Still no stars, what time is it?” Nilda asked. She kept her voice low so as not to wake anyone asleep in her boat, or in the other yachts bobbing nearby in the slowly tumbling waves.

  “Four,” Jay said. “Probably. And three hours since we last saw any stars.”

  “The clouds must be pretty dense,” Nilda said. “And slow moving.”

  “That’s good, though,” Jay said. “We’ll get rain.”

  Each boat had kept a pair of lights on during the night, one aimed outward and the other inward, collectively giving them a clear view of each other, the seawall, and the wide and open sea. Since she’d come on watch around midnight, there’d been nothing to see. Other than the waves, there’d been nothing to hear but the soft flapping of the solitary square of sail hanging from the rigging. The speed at which it erratically flapped was increasing. She didn’t want to sail in a storm, but they wouldn’t be safe moored so close to the seawall should a gale erupt.

  “As soon as everyone’s awake, we’ll leave,” Nilda said.

  “We are awake,” Simone called from the Benedict.

  “No we’re not,” Tarquin added.

  “I think we are,” George said. “More or less.”

  Ten minutes later, they cast off, the quiet chugging of their engines drowning out the sound of the waves.

  “Farewell, Zeebrugge,” Nilda said, and yawned.

  “You should get some sleep,” Tuck signed.

  “In a minute.” She picked up the map. “Ostend is next. About twenty-five kilometres. We’ll get there around dawn.” She yawned again.

  “Go. Sleep,” Tuck signed. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  “Mum? Mum! Wake up!”

  “What?” Nilda sat bolt upright, and hit her head on the shelf above the narrow bunk. Fortunately, one of the bed’s previous occupants, having suffered the same misfortune, had strapped a pillow to the shelf. “What is it?” she asked, rubbing her head, before cautiously easing herself out of the bed.

  “It’s good news,” Jay said. “Lorraine’s spotted a ship.”

  “In Ostend?” she asked.

  “Nah, we left there hours ago. Ostend was a worse ruin than Zeebrugge. I didn’t think it was worth waking you.”

  “Hmmm. So where are we? What kind of ship is it?” She reached for her boots.

  “A big one,” Jay said. “Like, a proper ship. A ship-ship.”

  “Those aren’t nautical terms.”

  “No, I mean Lorraine thinks it’s big enough for everyone,” Jay said.

  “Give me details,” Nilda said as she laced her boots. “How big? Where is it? Where are we?”

  “I’m not sure, but you can ask her yourself,” Jay said.

  “Go on,” she said. “I’m right behind.”

  The yacht had three staterooms, and a lounge from which most of the furniture had been removed, but they still oozed luxury. The cabin she’d slept in was the smaller, two-bunk chamber behind the galley. Other than the pair of bunks, it had two lockers and a strip of floor barely wide enough to dress. It was a room for staff who’d be so overworked they’d have no time for a chair in which to sit or table at which to write.

  Nilda followed Jay through the galley kitchen, then the lounge, where the mattresses had been folded back. The benches were half full and the corridor beyond was no better.

  “Excuse me,” Nilda said, stepping over a raven’s crate.

  “Yeah, out of the way or we’ll make you walk the plank,” Jay said.

  “I’m sure no one ever really did that,” Felicity said.

  “Bet they did,” Jay said. “I’ll ask Norm.”

  Nilda eased her way up into the cockpit. It wasn’t as cramped as she expected, but the reason was to be found through the windows. Where half the passengers had taken the warmer option of staying inside, the other half had appointed themselves lookouts. Under Tuck’s watchful eye, they clung to the yacht’s rail, peering into the distance.

  “Lorraine saw ships?” Nilda asked Jennings.

  “Two of them,” Jennings said. “A cruise ship, and something military. They can make a good five knots faster than us.”

  “How far ahead are they?” Nilda asked.

  “Beyond the horizon we can see from in here, but not beyond the range of the radio transmitter at the top of the mast,” Jennings said. “About five miles, I’d say. You want to speak to her?”

  “No. I’m sure she’ll call when she has more news. What did she say?”

  “That it’s a cruise ship, missing some lifeboats, moored off the coast,” Jennings said. “No signs of life, but no signs of death or damage. It’s flying the UN flag.”

  “Oh. Does that mean something?”

  “Other than the obvious, not really,” Jennings said.

  “What about the military vessel?”

  “It’s a lot smaller, and it’s flying the Union Jack. That’s all she’s said so far.”

  “It must have come from Britain,” Jay said.

  “At some point,” Jennings said. “The question is when.” He looked over at Nilda. “I’m thinking about Zeebrugge.”

  “And the zombie with the military I.D.?” Nilda said. “Well, yes, perhaps this is where they came from. But didn’t you say the ration-pack was American? What else did Lorraine say? Where are we?”

  “We think the ships are anchored outside of Nieuwpoort,” Jennings said. “It’s a harbour-town built around an estuary. She’s spotted a reinforced concrete channel leading inland. We think that leads to the town itself.”

  “Where’s the map, thanks. And the ships are in the harbour?” Nilda asked.

  “Outside,” Jennings said.

  “In the open sea?”

  “Yep,” Jennings said. “So they can’t have been here long. One more point in favour of it being connected to that zombie in Zeebrugge.”

  “And begging the question of where a Royal Navy ship came from, and why it came here, and not to England,” Nilda said. “What was Ostend like?”

  “It’s a ruin,” Jennings said. “Worse than Zeebrugge. A lot worse. The seawall is broken. We went out to sea to avoid the new-formed shallows.”

  “Did you…” She paused, glancing at the door leading down to the cabins. She didn’t want to raise the spectre of radiation. “How bad?”

  “Very. But it could have been worse,” Jennings said. “We’re checking as we go, nothing to give us any alarm. But someone gave the coast a real pasting.”

  “The coast or just the harbours?” Nilda asked. “I mean, if it’s the ports, and if it’s those closest to Britain, doesn’t that suggest only one culprit?”

  “The Royal Navy, you mean?” Jennings said. “Maybe, but if the satellite images are to be trusted, Calais is still intact. And that’d be anyone’s first target.”

  “Except it’s home to the Channel Tunnel,” Nilda said. “Perhaps they didn’t want to destroy that. Rebuilding a seaport is one thing, digging out a tunnel is another.”

  “I thought they destroyed the Channel Tunnel,” Jay said.

  “Yes, you’re right. I’m speculating, and that’s dangerous. Pointless, too. Norm, how long can a ship stay anchored off the coast?”

  “Now you want me to speculate? De
pends on the ship, and the section of coast, but it depends most on the weather. Weeks, not months. You sure you don’t want to call Lorraine?”

  “No, we’ll see the ships for ourselves soon enough.”

  “That’s not a cruise ship,” Jay said. “It’s a city! There’s got to be room for everyone in Anglesey, I mean Belfast. I mean, well, everyone, wherever they are. In fact, I think there’s got to be a room for everyone, though I don’t think everyone will get a balcony.”

  Nilda peered through the optical scope, then handed it back to Tuck. She gave the other yachts a quick glance. Like on their boat, other than a solitary lookout, people had returned inside where they waited to hear a decision over the radio. If she didn’t make one soon, she knew that Leon would, and half-hoped that he might.

  As the monolithic ship had appeared over the horizon, it had first appeared as a glittering chalk tower rising from the waves. As they’d drawn nearer, the individual balconies and windows came into focus, and there were thousands. Nearer still, however, she saw the rivulets of rust criss-crossing the hull like dripping veins.

  “I hope that’s rust,” she said.

  “It is,” Jennings said.

  “How many passengers?” Tuck signed.

  “What’s that? Oh, six to ten thousand,” Jennings said. “About four thousand crew.”

  “No way!” Jay said. “It takes four thousand people to sail that ship?”

  “Nah,” Jennings said. “You only need a few dozen. Think of it as a floating hotel. Most of the staff run the bars, the restaurants, the laundry, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “There’s something about it that’s making me feel uneasy,” Nilda said.

  “What’s that saying, that we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” Jay said. “We wanted ships, didn’t we? And now we’ve found one big enough that we don’t need any others.”

  Tuck tapped Nilda’s arm. “Birds,” she signed. “On the railings, third balcony up, twenty along.”

  Nilda took the scope, but there were too many balconies for her to find the birds.

  “Mum?” Jay asked. “That saying about gift horses, that’s about Troy and the Trojan Horse, right? That saying doesn’t make sense. I mean, wouldn’t it have been better for them to look into the horse’s mouth when they got the gift? Then they’d have known there were Greek soldiers hidden inside.”

  “Nah, it’s from the Bible, isn’t it?” Jennings said.

  “Shakespeare,” Tuck signed. “It’s always Shakespeare.”

  “Ask George,” Nilda said. “But I think the expression is about trust. You can tell a lot about a horse’s age and health from its teeth, so you should accept the gift gratefully.”

  “Even if it is a bow-legged nag,” Jennings added.

  “That makes even less sense,” Jay said.

  “But is that what we’ve got here?” Nilda said. “I won’t say thank you until I’m sure. What can you tell me about the military ship, Norm?”

  “She’s the HMS Courageous,” Jennings said. “An Albion-class amphibious assault ship. Crew of three-fifty, space for about the same number of Marines, plus their vehicles and equipment. You see those transports on the beach? They came from the Courageous.”

  “And is that a lifeboat from the cruise ship on the shore between them?” Nilda asked.

  “Could be,” Jennings said.

  “So where are the other missing lifeboats?” Nilda asked.

  “Let’s go aboard and we might find out,” Jay said. “This is what we wanted, isn’t it? Two ships, I mean.”

  “Not really,” Jennings said. “The Courageous runs on diesel, not marine-gas-oil, so it’s next to useless unless there’s fuel in the bunkers. As for the cruise ship, it’s not the type of vessel we want.”

  “Two ships like this, stopped here, they can’t both have run out of fuel at the same time,” Tuck signed. “If the Courageous was out of fuel, they’d have moved the smaller complement aboard the cruise ship and continued. I think it’s the cruise ship that’s out of fuel.”

  “Then we’ve found diesel,” Jay said.

  “Why would they have left the fuel behind?” Tuck signed. “There’s no smoke coming from inland. They went ashore, and if they were still there, we’d see smoke. If they were overrun, they’d have returned to the ships, and there’s no sign of life aboard. No, if any diesel was left, they’d have taken it with them.”

  “And gone to Zeebrugge,” Nilda said. “Perhaps Ostend. Perhaps elsewhere. It’s plausible, isn’t it? They ran out of fuel, so continued their journey overland, until at least one of them died in Zeebrugge. But you’re right, Jay, we can find the answer by going aboard and by going ashore.”

  The radio squawked. It wasn’t Leon, but George.

  “Kallie’s called on the sat-phone,” George said. “The admiral wants an update. What do you want to tell them?”

  Her hand had been forced. “We’ve been looking too long at the gift horse’s teeth, haven’t we?” she said. “It’s time to climb inside the beast and see whether there are Greeks inside.”

  There was silence on the other end of the radio. “Can you repeat that, over?” George finally said.

  “Sorry. Tell Kallie what we’ve found. Tell her we’re going aboard, and we’ll call back in a couple of hours. Then ask Leon to put together a boarding party. I’ll take our boat into the harbour, and see whether anyone’s still there.”

  “Norm, what did you mean that the cruise ship isn’t really what we’re after?” Jay asked as the submariner piloted their boat between the cruise ship and the HMS Courageous, towards the concrete channel that led into the River Yser, and so to the town of Nieuwpoort.

  “It comes down to bunkering,” Jennings said. “That’s refuelling and provisioning. Usually, a ship that big, you’d anchor it in the harbour next to a refuelling barge. Like a petrol station. A smaller ship, like the Courageous there, or The New World, you’d refuel at the quayside or use an FAS system. Fuelling-at-sea. Basically, a long pipe linking two ships.”

  “Which is what we’ll do, right?” Jay said.

  “Yeah, sure, but think about the disparity in size. That cruise ship, when the tanks are full, will have a range of maybe ten, twelve days without having to refuel. That’s about the sailing-distance from Southampton to New York and back.”

  “Or Canada and New England,” Nilda said. “Seeing the Northern Lights, then Newfoundland and New England, flying back from New York after a night in a hotel. That was a twelve-day cruise. It was my dream holiday if we’d won the lottery in the work pool.”

  “Really?” Jay asked. “You never said.”

  “Of course not, it was a fantasy,” Nilda said. “If we’d ever really won, the money would have gone on food and bills, and maybe a new boiler, but it was nice to dream.”

  “A twelve-day cruise? It probably refuelled in St Johns or somewhere,” Jennings said. “Point is, a cruise ship travels from port to port. They’re not designed for long voyages without replenishing. Space for a fuel tank is space you can’t sell to paying passengers. It’s extra weight, right? Smaller ships would be better, ships designed for a longer range.”

  “But a smaller ship wouldn’t have the room for all the people,” Jay said.

  “I’m not saying we can’t make it work,” Jennings said. “But the logistics will be a nightmare. We’ll have to refuel at sea using the Amundsen or The New World, which’ll mean only a couple of days sailing between each stop. And it’ll mean we’ll have to keep running the Amundsen back to Svalbard to fill up, while The New World goes ahead to scout out a secluded bay deep enough for the cruise ship to wait. I’d say we should look for a port, but if Ostend and Zeebrugge are anything to go by, we won’t find one.”

  “It’s a floating city,” Nilda said. “It’s not a fleet. That’s what you’re saying.”

  “Does it matter?” Jay asked.

  “Not right now,” Nilda said. “And yes, it has room for every
one, so it can easily accommodate everyone now in Ireland. It’s the answer to all their immediate problems.”

  A droplet splashed against the window.

  “Rain,” Jay said.

  “Snow, I think,” Jennings said. “But it’s not something to worry about, not yet.”

  “Hmm,” Nilda murmured. Jay’s talk of gift horses was making her superstitious. It felt like they were being forced to accept this ship as their only option, with all the consequences that implied for their future. She turned her gaze to the shore beyond the HMS Courageous, and the stretch of beach on which the military transport ships were beached. “If only they’d come up the Thames.”

  “There’s something in the water ahead,” Jennings said. “A loose lifeboat, I think.”

  Nilda picked up the boathook, and went outside. Tuck followed.

  “No one aboard,” Tuck signed, as they neared the boat. “No blood, either.”

  Nilda hooked the boat, and pulled it close. She turned to face Tuck. “Tie her on.”

  “You sure?” Tuck signed.

  “I know,” Nilda said. “It’s extra drag, extra weight, so it’ll mean burning more fuel, but we might need it, and we’re years from being able to make something like this.”

  The craft was bigger than the boat in which she and Chester had travelled from Hull to London. High sided, thick hulled, with nothing but bench seats inside. A heavy canopy was folded back, allowing rain and sea-spray to add a foot of water to the bilge. Tuck secured the lifeboat. Nilda released the boathook. The boat drifted slowly behind until the rope grew taut.

  “Waste not, want not,” Tuck signed.

  Nilda nodded. “We’ll have to learn to build masts. We’ll have to learn how to do a lot.”

  Tuck held out her hand long enough for a flake to settle on her glove. “Snow,” she signed. “That solves the problem of finding water.”

  “And brings an end to our travels,” Nilda said. “I don’t think we can sail in a snowstorm.”

  “We can fish,” Tuck signed. “No smoke ashore. No lights. No movement on the seawall.”