Stefán Máni - The Ship

‘Found what?’ the captain enquires.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ says Big John as he climbs over the water pump and rips the hoses out of the container. ‘Come with me!’

John lifts the container off the iron framework and walks off with it towards the storeroom.

‘What’s your idea?’ asks Guðmundur as he follows the chief engineer over the iron platform. ‘What’s that container?’

‘It’s an additive for the fuel oil,’ says Stoker, who has followed behind.

‘What?’ asks the captain.

‘Óli! Find me a big pan,’ says Big John, opening the storeroom.

‘Aye, aye!’ says Óli Johnsen and runs off. The chief engineer only uses Stoker’s given name when there’s a great deal at stake.

On the port side in the engine room are various containers that the engineers use for volatile liquids and strong soaps, for example, to scrub off spilled oil or clean parts after disassembling an engine. Stoker finds a big tin pan that’s half filled with congealed grease. He cleans it and then hurries back over the iron floor. When he is a few steps from the storeroom he spots something on the floor. Something that reflects the light like a silver coin.

Stoker bends down and reaches his dirty fingers towards the glittering piece of metal that resembles a coin but isn’t.

It’s a small key.

14:54

‘What’s that oil?’ asks the captain when the chief engineer has closed the storeroom door.

‘It’s a fuel oil additive.’ Big John unscrews the stopper. ‘They’re mixed together with the heated oil before it’s pumped into the engine.’

‘And you think that…’

The captain stops talking when Stoker opens the door, letting the rattling of the generator into the soundproofed storeroom.

‘Here’s a pan. I rinsed the shit out of it,’ says Stoker, putting down a large tin pan that smells of pure gasoline.

‘Good,’ says the chief engineer as he starts pouring the contents of the container into the pan.

‘But I don’t understand what…’ Guðmundur shrugs his shoulders.

‘What did you find on the floor?’ asks Stoker, looking at the oil and his superior by turns.

‘Look!’ says Big John, putting down the empty container.

‘What?’ says the captain as he leans over, the better to see what he’s supposed to see. ‘I don’t see anything!’

‘Salt?’ asks Stoker, and he looks at John.

‘No,’ says John. ‘Sugar.’

‘Sugar? Where?’ The captain looks from one engineer to the other.

‘Look,’ says Big John, pointing to very small drops that glitter like tiny stars in the dark oil. ‘It’s almost completely dissolved but it still glitters.’

‘Sabotage,’ murmurs Stoker and he sits on the floor.

‘I think I see it but I don’t understand…’ The captain shakes his head.

‘I stepped on a lump of sugar here shortly before midnight last night,’ says Big John, then he too sits on the floor.

‘Has someone put sugar cubes in…?’ Guðmundur stops talking when Sæli comes running down to A-deck.

‘What’s up?’ asks Sæli, standing in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, bracing himself in the doorframe.

‘Nothing!’ answers Big John. ‘What’re you doing down here?’

‘I was just—’

‘I told you everyone should stay put!’ says the captain with a scowl.

‘Yes, but…’ says Sæli, reddening. ‘Rúnar sent me down to get Methúsalem, but Methúsalem didn’t answer me so—’

‘The engine’s stopped! It’s kaput! It’s an emergency!’ says the captain hoarsely.

‘What happened?’ asks Sæli.

‘It doesn’t matter… not for the moment,’ says the captain. ‘The ship’s dead in the water.’

‘What can we do?’ says Sæli to the chief engineer.

‘Nothing,’ says John. He looks at his reflection in the oil. ‘Nothing except send out an emergency signal.’

‘I see,’ says Sæli quietly.

‘The radio is unusable,’ says Guðmundur. ‘How can we send out an emergency signal while the aerials aren’t functioning?’

‘There’s an emergency transmitter behind the port bridge wing,’ says Big John, looking at Stoker, who nods his head.

‘The white box?’ asks the captain.

‘Yes,’ says John, nodding to the captain. ‘If the ship sinks, the pressure lock blows the box open and then the emergency transmitter floats up and start sending out an SOS along with the ship’s call signal.’

‘What do we have to do to activate the transmitter?’ asks Guðmundur. ‘Do we have to submerge the box?’

‘No,’ says the chief engineer, shaking his head. ‘All we have to do is unscrew the box and turn it upside down. The transmitter is upside down in the box but in water it rights itself and then the transmitter turns on automatically.’

‘That’s it!’ says the captain, clapping the chief engineer on the shoulder. ‘Sæli, go up to the bridge, unfasten that box and turn it upside down on the floor.’

‘Yeah, okay,’ mumbles Sæli with a nod.

‘Here’s a screwdriver,’ says Big John, fishing a medium-sized screwdriver from the toolbox and tossing it to Sæli, who catches it.

‘Thanks.’ Sæli sticks the screwdriver into his right trouser pocket.

‘Be careful,’ says the captain. He looks at his watch. ‘We’ll hold an emergency meeting in the mess at four o’clock. Let the others know.’

‘Will do,’ says Sæli, who then turns around and runs up the slanting staircase.

‘You were talking about the sugar,’ says the captain, looking at Big John and then at the pan, which tilts like the ship, disgorging thick oil over the edge and out onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ says John, tossing dirty rags onto the sticky spilled oil. ‘Sugar dissolves in the additive and then runs into the engine as a liquid. Once there it crystallises in the heat and the hard crystals damage the pistons, make them crack.’

‘No deckhand would do that,’ says Stoker, sneering nastily. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say only a trained engineer would know enough to think of such a thing.’

‘That’s true,’ says John, nodding.

‘How about an officer?’ asks Guðmundur Berndsen.

‘Not out of the question,’ says Stoker, leering at the captain. ‘But, with all due respect, you didn’t work it out, and you’re a highly trained seaman.’

‘You’ve got a point there,’ says the captain, ‘but if I had intended to damage the engine I would doubtless have remembered enough textbook learning to have thought of something similar.’

‘That’s right,’ says the chief engineer. ‘Every single graduate of the Navigation School knows enough to damage a ship in uncounted ways.’

‘Yeah, maybe,’ says Stoker with a shrug.

‘But others wouldn’t, you think?’ asks the captain.

‘If we don’t count the three of us, the man in the forecastle and Jónas, that leaves only four,’ says Big John. He puts a fresh cigar in his mouth. ‘Of those, I trust two completely, if not three.’

‘Which means that…’ Guðmundur looks questioningly at John, who lights a match and sucks life into his cigar.

‘Which means there’s only one left,’ says Stoker.

‘Ási is completely reliable, Sæli is an innocent… and the devil take me if Rúnar is involved in this,’ Big John says as he sucks on the cigar.

‘Agreed,’ says Stoker.

‘That leaves Methúsalem,’ groans the captain. He sighs. ‘Is that possible?’

‘You’ll have to answer that,’ says Big John, blowing a thick cloud of smoke out through his nose.

‘Yes, you’re right. It’s up to me to answer it.’ Guðmundur stands up. ‘It’s up to me to ask the questions and up to me to find the answers. It’s my responsibility to decide who is trustworthy and who is not.’