Innocent on the run. Part 10.

'You'd better report to the Bosun, now,' Doc told him. Ricky went down the passageway and out on to the deck. The superstructure was all aft in this ship, and the forward deck contained the three hatches which carried the cargo. The sea was quite smooth, with a slight swell, which caused the ship to roll from side to side. The wind was quite light and Ricky felt better with the wind in his face. The Bosun was a seaman from Cardiff, in middle age, with a lined and wrinkled face. His hands were huge, horny and scarred from a lifetime of splicing ropes and wires. 'Where's your wet weather gear?' he asked. ‘Er, I haven’t got any.’ The Bosun said, ' Come with me, then. We’ll find something for you.' He led the way to the fo'csle in the bows of the ship and opened a locker. The strong smell of tarry rope and paint made Ricky’s stomach turn over. The lad who had told him off for joining at the pier head was in the fore part of the fo’csle painting and he stopped work as Ricky passed him, sneered and spat on the deck. The Bosun handed Ricky an old pair of seaboots that someone had discarded, and an oilskin jacket and trousers, covered in paint splashes and oil. They were miles too big for the lad but he stuffed the trousers into the seaboots and turned the cuffs of the jacket up. The Bosun then showed him how to connect up the deck hose, and he started washing down the decks. Once the deck had been washed down, one of the seamen told Ricky to get out of his oilskins and help them with the painting. They were painting the funnel, and the fumes from it, falling on to deck level were pretty foul, making Ricky feel sick again. The seaman's, name was Dave, and he and the Bosun had rigged a kind of chair, on ropes which was slung up on the funnel and could be lowered gradually using a block and tackle. There was another one on the other side of the funnel and a seaman was already sitting in it, painting. 'What are you like at painting?' Dave asked. 'Not too good.' 'Now's your chance to learn then. Keep the brush filled and keep your strokes even. Here's your paint pot and brush. Now sit in the Bosun's chair and we'll hoist you up.' They hauled Ricky up the funnel, and shouted like mad when he accidentally spilled some paint out of his pot on to the deck! He quickly righted his paint pot and started painting the side of the funnel, while Dave shouted up instructions to him. The height made Ricky giddy for a while and this, on top of the seasickness and the ship rolling made him feel terrible. He wondered why he had ever wanted to go to sea, and if he could go back twenty four hours, he would run a mile from ships and the sea. He clung to the side of the Bosun's chair with one hand while clutching the paint pot, and tried to paint with the other. He managed to get some paint on, though, and Dave was encouraging him, laughing when he missed the funnel altogether when the ship rolled away from him. They let the Bosuns' chair down at ten o'clock and went down to the messroom for a cup of tea. Dave told him to eat some dry toast and to wash it down with tea, as he needed something in his stomach, and once he’d done as instructed he felt a little better. They continued painting the funnel for the rest of that day. At lunch time Ricky helped Doc lay out the tables and washed the dishes after it. When he got back up to the funnel, Dave was in the chair and Ricky helped the Bosun with the raising and lowering of it. At Dinner time Ricky again laid out the tables, and Doc showed him how to wet the table cloths with water to prevent the crockery from sliding off it, as the bridge had told them that there was some bad weather due. Ricky thought that the weather was bad enough now, as the ship was rolling a bit more than she had in the morning. He couldn't wait to be released so that he could go to bed. Doc also showed him the chains and shackles under each chair, and they screwed the shackle into a ringbolt in the deck, effectively anchoring the chair to the deck. 'If you don't do this,' Doc warned, 'someone could get hurt, falling out of a chair if it tips over in bad weather.' 'Does it get that rough,' Ricky asked him. 'It doesn't have to be very rough to set these old ships rolling. They were built in the war, in America, and were supposed to last for only one trip across the Atlantic. They carried food to Europe, for us Brits and their own troops. As you can see, all the accommodation is aft and she's very high. They're like an upside down pendulum. Once they start to roll, they don't stop. This ship would roll in wet grass. You're cabin's not too bad though, you're low down in the ship. The Captain and the other Officers are the worst off. Their cabins are right up the top, so they swing the most.' After the crew had eaten their dinners, Ricky washed up for the last time, and cleared all the rubbish that had been left around before cleaning down the tables. Doc told him that he was finished for the day, and he could relax. He would be called again at six in the morning. Some of the crew were sitting around in the mess, playing cards. There was a lounge with a few easy chairs, forward of the mess room, and some crew members used it for reading or playing dominoes, Monopoly and a few other games that were stored away in a cupboard. The only thing that Ricky could think of at the moment was bed. Sweet, blessed relief from his aching body and sick stomach. He made his way down to the cabin, nearly gagging as he reached the engine room door. The smell of diesel fuel was overpowering. He quickly cleaned his teeth and swilled off his face. The cold water felt good on his fevered skin. He then stripped off his clothes and climbed into his bunk. Within minutes he was asleep, in spite of the noise from the engine. Copyright Deric Barry 2005