Innocent on the run, Part 4.

The boys gazed up at the superstructure of the oil tanker that was being tied up. ‘She’s just come in,’ Brian observed as the crew ran out the gangway and lashed it into place. ‘Wonder where she came from,’ Ricky said Brian answered, ‘Must be the Persian Gulf. All the crew are as brown as berries.’ Ricky laughed. ‘They’re Indian or something.’ ‘Come on,’ Brian said, ‘lets go aboard.’ Ricky was reluctant. ‘I dunno, what flag are they flying.’ Brian laughed, ‘Who cares, they won’t bite us, come on.’ shorts and a pair of flip-flops. They climbed the ladders to the accommodation and found the open door into the galley. Standing in front of the sink, washing dishes was an Indian dressed in a ragged pair of shorts. ‘Hello,’ Brian called through the open door, ‘we’re looking for work.’ The Indian turned to face them. ‘You want job?’ he asked. ‘Yes please,’ they replied eagerly. The cook picked up a meat cleaver that was lying on the table and waved it in their direction. His face contorted in fury as he screamed at them, ‘My brother want job, my Father want job.’ He crouched and started to advance towards them with a snarl on his face. He sliced the air in front of him. ‘Get out here or I chop you up.’ They turned and fled, taking the ladders two steps at a time. Safely on the quayside, they looked up to see the cook at the hand rails waving his cleaver at them while the crew members fell about laughing. ‘Won’t bite you, eh?’ Ricky grinned. ‘He nearly chopped us up for curry.’ They continued around the dock until they came to the flour mill. The grain ship that was discharging its cargo stopped them in their tracks! It was a wooden hulled sailing schooner. They gazed up at the masts and rigging in wonder. After a long silence, Ricky said, ‘It must be great to sail on a real sailing ship.’ They walked up the gangway and looked over the hatch coaming at the mountains of grain in the holds. Brian sighed, ‘I wish we could get jobs on her.’ A man walked along the timbered deck towards them. He was dressed in a Naval greatcoat, thick serge trousers tucked into rubber boots, and a peaked cap. His weather-beaten face split into a grin. ‘What can I do for you, boys.’ ‘We’re looking for jobs, Sir.’ Brian told him. ’Do you need a galley boy or deck boy?’ ‘No we don’t, I’m sorry.’ He watched as their faces registered disappointment. ‘What ship is this, Sir?’ Ricky asked ‘This is the sailing schooner Pamir,’ he answered. ‘One of the only two remaining schooners still operating under sail and carrying cargo. The other one is our sister ship the Passat.’ ‘It must be marvellous sailing on her,’ Brian said. ‘It’s not as romantic as you think,’ the Captain replied. ‘The accommodation is cramped, the work is very strenuous and you get soaked to the skin several times during a watch.’ ‘We’d love all of that,’ Ricky said, peering up at the yards high above them. The Captain smiled again, ‘You’d be alright until we started across the Bay of Biscay,’ he said. ‘In bad weather she practically turns turtle. When the rails are under water you have to walk up hill to cross the deck.’ Ricky looked at the huge teak handrail running the length of the deck and tried to imagine the ship heeled over to such an extent that it was underwater. The Captain continued, ‘You can’t sign on, I’m afraid, but at least you can say that you were on board her, and there’s not many seamen who can say that.’ ‘Thanks, anyway.’ Brian said. They went back down the gangway feeling ten feet tall as the Captain had called them seamen. When they got on the dockside they looked up at the side of the ship. The Captain was leaning on the rail. ‘Remember me when you cross the Bay of Biscay for the first time,’ he called down to them. They both waved up at him. When they were in school they had worked together part time for a wood merchant. Evenings and Saturdays they would help the boss on his firewood round, selling chopped sticks and burning blocks to the people of the town and surrounding villages. After they had left school, the boss offered them full time work. They enjoyed the heavy physical work, carrying sacks of wood up stairs to flats, building up their stamina for the boxing club bouts they were entered for. As well as boxing they were keen members of the youth club rugby team, playing on Sunday mornings. All the while they continued their search for the ship which would take them on, and help them to realise their ambition. One Monday evening Ricky knocked on Brian’s door as they were due at the boxing club. He was a bit concerned because Brian had not been in work that day and the boss had assumed that he was sick. Brian’s Mother answered the door and told him that his mate was at sea! He’d gone as galley boy on a coaster after a friend of a friend had got him the job. Ricky was green with envy! He went to the boxing club cursing his luck that he hadn’t gone to sea with Brian, although he couldn’t blame his mate for taking the job. He’d have done the same himself. If they had gone together however, it might have changed Ricky’s mind about a career at sea, as ten days later Brian was back at home vowing never to set foot on another ship as long as he lived! The trip had been a nightmare! The vessel was a tiny coaster running across the English Channel to Belgium. The weather had been atrocious and Brian had spent most of his time on board lying in his bunk vomiting on the cabin floor. The cook had dragged him out of his bunk and beaten him with a ladle to get him into the galley to work. The smell of greasy food and stinking vegetables had been the final straw, and he paid off when she got back to Barry and almost ran home. Copyright 2005 by Deric Barry