Innocent on the run. Part 35.

The Captain looked at Ricky. `What's you're name boy?' Ricky told him and he said, `If anyone asks, you're my cabin boy.' The captain and officers were given cabins to sleep in, but the rest of them made do with sleeping on the settees and easy chairs in the lounges. Ricky found a space on the floor of the Officer's lounge. It was hard on the back, but he didn't mind. At least he was out of America, and hopefully would be given a passage home from Cuba. The ship that had collided with them was a general cargo boat, plying between Cuba and Mexico. She was a lot bigger than the one that had been sunk, and as they were left pretty much to themselves, Ricky walked around the decks for exercise and spent hours leaning over the rails, gazing into the beautiful clear blue sea. Up in the bows there were no ship noises, and he watched the dolphins racing alongside the ship then leaping out of the water in front of her, the water cascading from their backs in rainbows, before diving to the depths again. Shoals of small flying fish leaped out of the water, fins working at a furious pace, as they soared for a few yards, then plummeted back into the sea. Some of them landed on deck, flapping around and gasping, and Ricky picked them up and returned them to the sea. The weather was beautiful, the sea flat calm and the sun burning down from a bright blue, cloudless sky. The crew were happy go lucky Cubans, chattering away in Spanish among themselves, not bothering the shipwrecked crew. The food was not very special but there was plenty of it. Rice and beans seemed to be the staple diet as it was served every mealtime, with some kind of spicy meat. There was plenty of bread and fresh fruit, milk and coffee. The two days passage would pass quite quickly, and after the initial shock of losing their ship, the crew regained their sense of humour. After all, no one had been lost, and they were going home to spend their survivors leave with their families, where they would be fussed over and treated like heroes. Most of the Jamaicans spent their time sleeping. It was amazing how many hours they could sleep in one session. They would wake up at mealtimes, go for their food, then go straight back to their chair, settee or place on the floor, and go back to sleep again. Any time Ricky went in to the Officers' lounge, loud snores would be coming from every corner. He had stowed his holdall in a cupboard in the lounge. There were just a few old books and papers in there, the papers being years out of date, so he assumed no one used it very much. Two or three times a day he checked the bag, and at night he used it as a pillow. The captain of the sunken vessel found Ricky on deck as they were entering Havana harbour. `Now, listen,' he said. ` Don't tell these Cubans that you were stowing away. If you do, they'll shove you in jail as an illegal. I've put you down as a crew member, so keep your trap shut, otherwise we're both in trouble.' `Thanks very much, captain.' `That's O.K. I wouldn't let my worst enemy go to one of their stinking jails.' `Won't they be suspicious that I'm a white kid ?' The captain grinned, ` Hell, you're nearly as black as me. You looked in a mirror lately?' The ship steamed in to Havana harbour and tied up at the quay. It looked to be a very beautiful city, with large impressive buildings in the Spanish style, and wide tree lined avenues filled with cars, buses and trucks. People crowded the sidewalks or sat outside the cafes, drinking coffee and talking in the early evening. The immigration Officers came aboard and gathered them together in the lounge, telling them that they would be transported to Jamaica as soon as a ship could be found to take them. In the meantime they would stay where they were, on the ship. They were not allowed to go ashore, not even on the quay, and anyone found to be disobeying would be jailed immediately. The Jamaican Captain, Mate and Bosun were told to be ready in the morning to leave the ship, for the start of a preliminary enquiry into the shipwreck. Time dragged for Ricky. It was boring being confined to the ship. The Jamaicans didn't mind, they went back to their sleeping habits to pass the time. Ricky wanted to go ashore to see something of the city, but he had to content himself with watching people and traffic from the confines of the ship. He leaned over the rails, watching the hustle and bustle of Havana, the cars honking and the brightly lit bars and cafes, and wondered how long it would be before they were sent on a ship to Jamaica. Giving up trying to guess, he went up to the lounge to turn in, and went to the cupboard to get his holdall. It was gone. The cupboard had been cleared out completely. Copyright Deric Barry 2005.