Innocent on the run. Part 12.

Ricky crawled out of his bunk. Still fully clothed, he just had to put his shoes on. The ship was not rolling and pitching so badly now, and he thought that the weather must have got better during the hour or so's sleep he'd had. When he got to the messroom he was amazed to see that the clock said 5.48. He'd been asleep for 17 hours! The weather had improved overnight, and Llanerin was rolling steadily, but she wasn't corkscrewing or crashing back and forth, as she had been doing the day before. Ricky could actually stand upright and just lean, as she rolled. 'How d'you feel today?' Doc asked. 'A lot better than I did yesterday.' 'Don't worry, there were a few more on here who felt the same as you did. I had hardly anyone in for dinner last night. Now get some milk and toast before you start.' Ricky did as he was told and afterwards felt a lot better. At breakfast, Charlie came in. 'You alright kid?' he asked. 'Last night you were sweating streams in your bunk.' 'I'm fine now.' 'Good. The smell of the fuel doesn't help. I felt a bit queasy myself,' he added. 'Wasn't the fuel at all,' Doc piped up. 'It was the ship. These old boats are enough to make anyone sick.' 'Not like the old coal burners, eh Doc?' Charlie smiled. 'I could tell you some tales that would make your hair curl,' Doc replied. In the war I was on coal burners on the Russian convoys. If you thought yesterday was bad weather, you should have been on the Murmansk run. We were chipping the ice off the handrails, so that we wouldn't get top heavy and sink.' 'Why didn't you get the engineers to put the steam on the handrails,' Charlie said , 'it's all connected up, all you have to do is turn on the valve.' Doc swiped him with his tea towel. 'Give over you daft sod, D'you think I'm as green as Ricky.' Charlie sniggered, and dodged the next swing. 'Bloody grease monkey,' Doc laughed. 'Get back down your hole, will you. You're like moles in that engine room, you blink when you come up into daylight.' Charlie made his way down the passageway, chortling away to himself. After breakfast, the Bosun, Dave and another seaman called Fred went out on deck to work. Ricky joined them after he'd finished his jobs.The sea was calmer now with just a long swell, moving the ship in a gentle, rolling motion. They were able to work on deck again and the Bosun got them painting the outside of the accommodation. First they had to wash down the salt that had dried out after the bad weather, and they took until tea break, or smoko, as the seamen called it, to wash down both sides of the accommodation. When it was dry, they started painting, firstly dabbing red lead on the bare patches of metal, and then painting everything white, when it was dry enough. They spent all day on that job. There was a lot more to be painted, and good weather would give them a chance to do the whole of the accommodation. Fred was not a very communicative sort of man, and as he was working on the same side of the ship, as Ricky, the day was spent very quietly, with breaks for lunch, coffee in the afternoon, and dinner. Ricky was able to eat a bit more now that he was getting used to the ship's motion, but he still couldn't eat the heavy meals that Doc cooked for the crew. Lunch was from 1130 to 1230 and was generally soup, a roast of some kind, with all the vegetables followed by a sweet. The evening meal was a little lighter. Cold meat left over from lunch, and salad, or fish and chips, toad in the hole, fried potatoes, baked beans, or rice. Ricky could eat the salads, but his stomach still heaved at the thought of roast meats and gravy. The ship ploughed on towards the Gulf of Mexico, and life onboard settled down to the usual routine at sea. Seamen and Mates kept watches on the Bridge. The Third mate had the Twelve to four watch, the Second Mate had the Four to eight, and the First Mate the Eight to Twelve, although the Mate sometimes handed over to the apprentice so that he could gain experience of watchkeeping. The Mate would then do his rounds and decide on the work that needed to be done on deck and in the accommodation. The Officers worked four hours on watch and eight hours off. During their eight hours off they also attended to the dozens of other little jobs that always need to be done on a ship at sea. Pete kept playing dirty tricks on Ricky. He would do anything to get the lad into trouble with the Bosun and the Officers. Ricky was nervous that he would get such a bad name on the ship that eventually it would get back to the Captain. The Captain had the power to issue him with a temporary Seaman’s book, but if his performance was not exemplary he would give him a D.R. or ‘decline to report’ stamp on his paperwork. This would make other Captains reluctant to employ him as D.R. was considered to be a very bad recommendation. Ricky realised that if he were to retaliate against Pet’s childish behaviour and do what he really wanted to do, punch his head, he would find himself in serious trouble. He remembered the Captain telling him that violence was not to be tolerated on the ship. The painting of the ship continued and Ricky was working with the Bosun and Dave, painting the handrails on the Port side. The crew had been busy for days painting the whole foredeck a deep red and the hatch coamings black. She was looking really good and now they were putting the finishing touches to her by smartening up the handrails with white paint. Ricky hummed to himself, his half gallon of paint on the deck near his feet. He sensed someone behind him and turned to see who it was. Suddenly his tin of paint crashed over and the contents spewed out, covering the newly painted deck and splashing up the coaming. Pete was behind him and shouted for all to hear, ‘You stupid sod Rick, look at what you’ve done!’ Copyright Deric Barry 2005.