Hammond Innes - Blue Ice

‘Okay. Pa gjensyn!’ He raised his hand.

The mains’l cover was off now and they were at the halyards. As the grey shadow of the catcher merged into the darkness astern of us, the gaff rose through the topping lifts. A moment later the mains’l was a great splash of white, catching the navigation lights and fading into the blackness above us. Behind us, the lights of the two catchers shone like a village against the dark shape of the factory. As we went out through the islands, we set jib and mizzen. Then I put the wheel over and we swung away to starb’d. The lights of the catchers vanished behind the islands. By the time we reached the inlet leading to the cutting, all the sails were stowed again.

The tide was slackening as we glided slowly into the cut. At the first convenient spot I got a rope ashore and moored up, for I was scared of submerged rocks. Diviner swung slowly with the in-running tide until she lay snug against sheer rocks, chafing gently at her fenders. We found a way ashore and explored a route along the edge of the cutting to the bridge. My plan was to catch Sunde at the bridge after he had moored his boat.

It was very dark and silent among the rocks. We reached the bridge and stood there listening to the gurgle of the water as it ran through the cut to some basin further inland.

‘Suppose he lands at the quay?’ Jill said.

‘I don’t think he’ll do that,’ Curtis answered.

‘No,’ I agreed. ‘He’ll want to steer clear of Lovaas.’

‘For that reason he may stay in Bovaagen,’ Dick suggested.

‘It’s possible,’ I replied. ‘But he’s no reason to suspect Lovaas would go to such lengths.’

Curtis laughed. ‘It’d be funny if Lovaas had the same idea as us.’

‘If so,’ I said, ‘he’d be more likely to pick him up on the station.’

‘Maybe,’ Curtis acknowledged. ‘Still-’ He caught my arm. ‘What’s that?’

I listened. But I could hear nothing beyond the gurgle of the water under the bridge.

‘I thought I heard somebody call — up towards the factory.’

‘Probably one of the staff,’ I said. ‘It’s early yet.’

We stood there for some time, listening to the sound of the tide among the rocks. But we heard nothing more. We returned to the ship then and had food whilst Wilson and Carter kept watch.

Shortly after eleven, Dick, Curtis and I went ashore. We were wearing rubber shoes and dark clothes. The moon was beginning to rise and a faint light illuminated the sky. We settled ourselves behind a broken jumble of rocks near the bridge. There was no sound from the cutting now. The tide was at the high and the water slack. It began to get cold. The light in the sky steadily whitened. Soon we could see the bridge and the dark shadow of the cut.

Suddenly, away to my left, I caught the creak of oars. ‘Did you hear it?’ Dick whispered. ‘He’s coming up the cut.’

I nodded.

A loose stone rattled down against the rocks away to our right. I barely noticed it. I was listening to the creak of the oars, peering through the opaque uncertainty of the light to where I knew the inlet was. But I could see nothing — only the vague shape of rock and water. The creaking of the oars ceased. Silence for a moment; then the jar of a boat against rock. There was the clatter of oars being shipped and then, after a pause, the sound of boots coming towards us across the rock on the other side of the cutting.

‘There he is,’ Dick whispered in my ear. As he spoke I caught sight of a human figure moving towards the bridge. His boots slithered on the rock. The hard sound of his footsteps became hollow as he stepped on to the plankings of the bridge. It was Sunde all right. I could recognise him now. ‘Soon as he’s across the bridge,’ I whispered to the other two. I tensed, ready to dart forward and grab the man.

And in that instant, a sharp command was given in Norwegian. Sunde stopped. He hesitated, as though meditating flight. The voice spoke again. It was a strong, commanding voice. Then two figures emerged from the shadow of some rocks away to our right. In the pale light of the still unrisen moon I recognised the squat bulk of Lovaas. He held a gun in his hand. With him his mate, Halvorsen.

Sunde began to reason with him. Lovaas cut him short. I heard a name that sounded like Max Baker mentioned, and Lovaas laughed. The two men closed in on the diver. And then, one on either side, they marched him away to the whaling station.

I waited till their shadowy forms had vanished over a crest of rock. ‘Quick!’ I said. ‘We must get between them and the ship.’

‘The factory,’ Curtis whispered. ‘It’s the only place where we can surprise them.’

We struck away to the right then, making a wide detour and running hard. As far as possible we kept to gullies in the rock. Our rubber shoes made no sound. We reached the wire surround that kept the starving island sheep from getting into the factory and entered by one of the gates. I paused in the shadow of the office block and looked back. The sky was getting lighter. The moon’s tip was edging up over the black outline of the hills. I could just make out three shadowy figures moving towards us across the bare rock.

We went down the cinder track towards the flensing deck. By the boiler house we stopped. The path was narrow here with buildings on either side. Dick and I slipped into the warm darkness of the boiler-room. Curtis stationed himself in a doorway opposite. We agreed a signal for action and waited.

We could hear the sound of their feet on the rock. But they didn’t enter by the gate we had used. They kept outside the wire, moving along behind the factory. Curtis slipped out from his hiding-place. ‘There’s another gate,’ he whispered. ‘I saw it this afternoon when Kielland was showing us round. It’s at the back of the factory. And there’s a door leading into the place where the oil vats are.’

‘Then we’ll have to get them inside the factory,’ I said. ‘We must stop them getting to the catcher,’

We ran down the cinder track and across the greasy surface of the flensing deck. The moonlight was quite bright now. By comparison the inside of the factory was very dark. One solitary light glowed at the far end. It showed the shadowy shapes of oil vats rising to the roof. I moved cautiously forward and almost immediately stumbled into a thick, evil-smelling mass. It was a pile of waste from the vats, still warm like a dung hill. The place was silent, yet full of the sound of escaping steam. The steady hiss of it seemed as much a part of the building as the heavy warmth and the smell. The sound of the steam was all round us like a singing in the ears. And through it came a faint bubbling sound. It was boiling oil trickling down the gutterings between the vats.

Curtis gripped my arm. On the other side of the building a rectangle of pale moonlight showed the doorway that he had remembered. For a moment it was blocked by shadows. Then it was clear again. Something fell with a crash of iron and there was a muttered curse in Norwegian. Then a torch was shone on the floor. ‘You take Lovaas,’ I told Curtis. ‘Dick. You get the other fellow. I’ll look after Sunde.’

We dosed on them from behind. It would have been easy if Dick hadn’t stumbled against something. There was a clatter. Then the torch swung on to us. I saw Curtis go forward in a diving tackle. The torch spun across the floor. There was a thud of bone on bone as Dick hit out. And then everything was a wild jumble of curses and blows. ‘Sunde,’ I called. ‘Quick. The yacht is down in the cutting.’ He must have heard me, for I saw his small figure dive for the doorway. Curtis and Dick called to each other. Then we were all through the door and running for all we were worth across the open rock. Sunde was ahead of us, clearly visible in the moonlight. His boots slithered on the smooth rock. We quickly overhauled him.