Stefán Máni - The Ship

NO!

Sæli runs across the floor, grabs the top of the railing and looks down on the blue-grey emptiness below the top deck of the ship.

But there is nothing to see, nothing there except salt-laden wind and rough seas as far as the eye can see. No blinking light; absolutely nothing. Did the transmitter land in the sea or did it land on the stern and break into a thousand pieces?

‘I can’t believe it.’ Sæli hangs his head and clenches his stiff and bloody hands around the salt-encrusted metal.

16:03

Six of the nine-man crew have come together in the officers’ mess. At the head of the table, furthest from the door, sits Guðmundur Berndsen, Big John and Stoker on his right, Rúnar and Sæli on his left. Ási stands in the doorway, gnawing on a toothpick.

‘I’ll keep it short,’ says the captain, leaning forward with clenched hands. ‘The ship is dead in the water. We have an emergency situation on board. You know this.’

The ship is dead in the water.

No matter how often Guðmundur Berndsen says it, he can’t get used to it. To be adrift on the high seas is a captain’s worst nightmare. Only a collision, a fire or icing up would worry him more.

And mutiny…

‘No hope of repair?’ asks Rúnar after a short pause.

The chief engineer shakes his head.

‘Stuff has got into the engine that doesn’t belong there,’ says the captain, who has to make an effort not to raise his voice. ‘Every single piston is ruined. Repairs are out of the question.’

Silence reigns among those present, who glance at each other but don’t feel up to saying what everyone was thinking.

Sabotage.

‘Yes,’ says the captain, nodding his head. ‘The engine has been sabotaged.’

‘But…’

‘The man in the forecastle?’ says the captain. ‘It wasn’t me who locked him up. It looks like he is innocent. Unless he has an accomplice.’

Silence.

‘We’ll fetch him as soon as the storm subsides,’ says Guðmundur, taking a deep breath through his nose. ‘But until the crew is safe in harbour no-one will be suspected of anything, no-one will be punished for anything and no-one will be shut in anywhere. Is that understood? ’

The captain bangs his fist on the table.

‘Yes,’ murmur his listeners, nodding.

‘We are in a life-threatening situation, each and every one of us.’ The captain clenches his fists again. ‘We will all pitch in to help, and we will get through this difficult situation together. When we are back in a safe harbour there will be a maritime court inquiry, whether people like it or not. But until that time we are men in danger at sea and, given those conditions, we must set aside all our differences and stick together.’

His listeners nod again.

‘Any questions?’

Silence.

‘Where is Methúsalem?’ asks Ási, who is leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed.

‘He appears to be sick,’ says the captain. ‘If he doesn’t show tomorrow morning we’ll have to break in to his cabin.’

Silence.

‘Methúsalem is falling apart,’ mumbles Sæli.

‘How sad,’ says Big John, grinning, as he picks up a box of artificial sweeteners. ‘And he was so calm after we put Ritalin in his Canderel.’

Silence.

Methúsalem. It was Methúsalem who ruined the engine. It was Methúsalem who dropped that key on the floor of the engine room.

Stoker puts his palm flat against the right trouser pocket of his overalls and feels the key under the thin material.

What’s it a key to? Maybe it fits something important? Should he mention it? Let them know he found it?

No. Not unless someone asks about it. Until then he intends to keep it, guard it well…

‘Isn’t the storm abating a bit?’ asks Stoker.

‘Yeah, looks like it,’ says Guðmundur, tilting his head. ‘Thank the lord. Such high seas could easily break the ship in two.’

‘Has the emergency signal been sent out?’ John asks, looking at Sæli and then at the captain.

‘The transmitter fell overboard,’ says the captain, sighing heavily. ‘But of course it’ll continue to transmit and with any luck it should drift in the same direction as the ship.’

‘What happened?’ says Big John and he looks at Sæli.

‘It was just an accident,’ Sæli says, barely audible, and he avoids looking the chief engineer in the eye. ‘The box broke and…’

Sæli shrugs his shoulders and sighs.

‘He did his best!’ says the captain, decisively. ‘Let’s not despair. There is, of course, an emergency transmitter in the lifeboat but we’ll wait to start it up until we get in the boat.’

‘Why shouldn’t we start it up at once?’ asks Rúnar.

‘We might be stuck in the lifeboat for several weeks,’ says the captain. ‘I don’t want to risk having the battery in the transmitter give out before we find land or are saved.’

‘When are we going to get in the boat?’ asks Ási.

‘When the weather has completely calmed,’ the captain replies placidly.

‘Why don’t we get in the boat at once? Isn’t it safer?’ Rúnar demurs. ‘The ship could break up at any time but the boat is really strong. The fuel should last us three weeks, which ought to be more than enough.’

‘All of which is correct,’ says Guðmundur. ‘But before we get in the boat we need to know where we are. Otherwise we won’t know which direction to sail in. When the weather calms I’ll calculate our position exactly and then we can head for the nearest port.’

‘I thought you calculated our position earlier today?’ says Rúnar.

‘We can’t take that calculation seriously,’ the captain says, almost to himself. ‘There’s no accurate reading to be had in such high seas.’

‘So you don’t know where we are?’ Sæli asks hesitantly.

‘No!’ says the captain firmly, lifting his chin in the manner of stubborn children and dictators. ‘I don’t know except in a very limited way.’

Silence.

‘Until we get in the boat I won’t leave the ship’s bridge,’ says the captain firmly. ‘Rúnar and Sæli will have eight-hour watches and take turns being with me up on the bridge – first Sæli for eight hours, then Rúnar for eight hours, and so on. As for me, I shall rest in the chart room every sixteen hours. Nobody besides us three has any reason to enter the bridge for the rest of this voyage. Nobody! If someone has to get in touch with me, he can phone the bridge or ask the seaman who is not on watch to get the message to me.’

Silence.

‘When will you eat?’ says Ási.

‘Rúnar and Sæli can bring me food and something to drink.’

Silence.

‘The engineers will keep their regular watches,’ Guðmundur says. ‘They need to look after the generator, the heating and so on. Ási will, obviously, see to the kitchen, in addition to looking after Jónas while he’s stuck in bed. Outside of mealtimes and watches everyone is to stay in his own cabin, without exception. Is that understood?’

The men look questioningly at each other.

‘Why?’ asks Big John.

‘If anything else threatens the ship I’ll ring the warning bell,’ says the captain. ‘Then everybody is to meet on the boat deck, ready to abandon ship. If there’s anyone who doesn’t show up then the others have to know he’s in his cabin so they can fetch him there. If he’s not in his cabin, nothing more will be done to find him. Is that understood?’

‘Yes,’ comes the unanimous mumbled response.