Hammond Innes - Solomons Seal

He turned away from me then, to the high chair that was still in the wheelhouse, relic of the ship’s Service life. ‘God in Heaven!’ He slammed his hand down on the wooden back of it. ‘Why did she have to come now? If she’d done what I told her, stayed in Perth … ’ I thought he was about to reproach me for sending that cable, but instead, he asked me in a very quiet voice, ‘What did you tell her?’

‘That the crates contained outboard engines.’

He nodded. ‘Did she believe you?’

‘No.’

‘And you?’ He turned suddenly and faced me. ‘You think I’m smuggling something, don’t you?’

I shrugged. ‘It’s none of my business. You made that perfectly clear.’

‘Well, understand this. I don’t know what’s in those crates any more than you do. They may be outboards. They could equally be full of cigarettes, or whisky. It’s nothing to do with me. I’m being paid to put them ashore on Buka Island. If she wants to know what’s in them, she’ll have to ask Hans. He fixed it. It’s his responsibility.’

‘What if it’s drugs?’

He shook his head firmly. ‘Hans wouldn’t ship drugs.’

‘Stolen silver then, something like that?’ In Sydney the papers had been full of a wave of silver thefts by armed raiders. ‘It’s your ship that’s delivering them to Buka, and if the police find out, start an investigation …’

‘They won’t. Buka is a long way from the centre of the Civil Administration at Arawa.’

‘And there’s no Customs?’

‘No. Not where I’m going to put those trucks ashore.’

Again I was remembering that first meeting with him, and now that same driven look. ‘Why did you ask if I was going to Bougainville to stir up trouble?’ I said it quietly, not wishing to push him too far.

‘Did I?’ He was staring at me, shaking his head. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘When I came on board that first time.’

‘I wasn’t myself. I was very tired.’

‘You were worried about something.’

‘Yes, I remember now. You said I was scared.’ His voice had suddenly risen, his face flushed, his eyes angry. ‘You’d no right to say that. I was worried about the ship, about my ability to stay awake for five nights. It’s not so bad this way, but coming south, it’s a long haul to the two reefs we’ll be threading our way through in a few hours’ time. Even so, there’s the Louisiade Archipelago. There aren’t any lights on the Louisiades. Yes, I was scared if you like. I didn’t want to lose my ship the way Carlos Holland did.’

He hadn’t answered my question, but I didn’t feel this was the moment to ask him about the sullenness of the Buka element on board. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow,’ I said. ‘But if I were in command of this ship, I’d certainly want to know what was in those crates. If it’s drugs-’

‘It’s not drugs,’ he said quickly. ‘Hans would never handle drugs.’

‘On moral grounds?’

He didn’t answer for a moment, standing there, thinking it out. Finally he said, ‘I don’t think he’d necessarily see it that way. He’s a businessman. It’s just that there’d be no profit in it. There’s no demand for drugs in the islands.’

‘But he could be shipping the crates on — South East Asia, Singapore and no questions, even if the contents had been stolen.’

He shook his head, frowning, and that muscle moving on his cheek.

‘Well, if I were you, I’d check.’

I turned to go then, but he stopped me. ‘I’ve told the coxs’n nobody is to go on the tank deck without my permission. You understand? That includes you, and Perenna.’

It was so utterly illogical that I was on the point of telling him it didn’t make sense, one minute convincing himself that the crates were no more than innocent contraband, the next giving orders to ensure that he couldn’t be faced with the hard evidence of their contents. But seeing him standing there, gripping the back of the high chair, so tense that his hands were shaking, I thought better of it. ‘See you at o-four-hundred,’ I said.

He didn’t seem to hear me, his head turned to the porthole facing for’ard, his eyes wide, and I realised he was staring at those trucks, their tops just visible above the cab roofs of the Haulpaks. I didn’t bother about a warming drink. I went straight to my bunk, and was asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

Dawn was beginning to break when I woke. He hadn’t called me at 04.00, and when I went into the wheelhouse, he was at the chart table. He nodded to me. ‘Just managed to get a bearing on the Saumarez light while it was still dark enough.’ His face looked pale and drawn, but he seemed pleased, and he was quite relaxed now. He was a man who thrived on navigation, his mind totally absorbed in the necessity of picking up that light. ‘Had to rely on dead reckoning. No star sights. Thick cloud all night.’ The course hadn’t changed. ‘I’ll send Luke up to keep you company as soon as he’s fed.’

I have never liked the dawn watch. There is a timelessness about it, daylight spreading but the day not yet come, the world in limbo, everything a little unreal. I went out on to the bridge wing and climbed the ladder to the upper bridge, letting the wind blow the sleep out of me. It had freshened. Away to starboard the clouds were greying. A glimmer of whitecaps showed in the dark blur of the sea, and a light drizzle touched my face, clinging to my sweater like dew on a cobweb. Once I thought I caught a glimpse of a light away to port, but the drab dawn was strengthening all the time, and I couldn’t be sure. For’ard I could just see the trucks, dim, canvas-covered shapes.

I thought of all the times I had been at sea, sometimes wet and cold, sometimes frightened, but never before with any doubts about the purpose of the voyage or my own involvement in it. And now, standing in the boxed-in area of the open bridge, watching the coming of that reluctant dawn, I knew she was right. Somehow Holland had to be persuaded to check that cargo, and if he wouldn’t do it himself, then we’d have to do it. Cigarettes or liquor was one thing, but I wasn’t going to be party to the delivery of stolen goods, drugs, any of the things the police might investigate.

Back in the wheelhouse I found Luke poring over the chart. He looked up and smiled, a flash of white teeth in a broad black face. ‘Not very good morning, Mr Sling’by. I think it blow soon.’ He nodded to the barograph. ‘Pressure already falling.’ And this was the Coral Sea. When Shelvankar came in with the latest forecast, it was for strong to gale force winds, sou’sou’east veering sou’westerly, rain heavy at times with moderate to poor visibility.

The sea was already getting up by the time I went off watch, the movement uncomfortable and the fiddles fixed to the wardroom table. The others had finished breakfast, Holland sitting beside his sister, smoking a cigarette. ‘Any sign of the Frederick Reef on the radar?’

I shook my head. ‘The trace is getting blurred by the break of the waves, and the rain is quite heavy now.’

He pushed the bell for the steward and got to his feet. ‘When you’ve finished, take a look round the ship and see that everything’s secure, will you? Particularly the Haulpak fastenings. They may need tightening. I’ll tell Teopas to go with you.’ He poured himself another cup of coffee and took it with him to the wheelhouse.

The steward came in with my bacon and eggs. This time there was no fat. ‘I hope you like it,’ Perenna said. ‘I’ve had him grill the bacon instead of frying it.’ She smiled. ‘Getting him to cook vegetables properly may be more difficult.’ She seemed unaffected by the movement, face fresh and the freckles very noticeable with no make-up.