iii
Bervick walked on the forward deck.
Since sundown the wind had almost died away. Water rippled about them and the ship creaked as she moved back and forth between the two rocks.
There was only a sharp stump where the mast had been. A few bits of rigging were scattered on the deck; for the most part the deck was clean of all debris.
One of the ventilators was gone and someone had covered up the hole where it had been with a piece of canvas. The other ventilator was slightly bent; otherwise, it was in good shape.
To his left rose the mountains of Kulak. They were like all the other mountains in the islands. The closer one was to them the more impressive they were.
He walked to the railing and leaned over and touched the hard wet rock that shielded them from the last gusts of the wind.
Martin came slowly toward him. He walked unsurely. The knocking he had taken had weakened him.
“Here we are,” he said.
Bervick nodded. “We got real messed up. It’s the drydock for us if we get back.”
“Hope we’re sent to Seward. I like Seward.”
“Nice town for Alaska. Maybe we’ll get sent down to Seattle.”
“My luck’s not that good.” Martin leaned over the railing and ran his hand over the shattered guardrail. “You think we’ll get off these rocks all right?”
“I think so. Maybe we knocked a hole in the bottom. If that happened we got no chance.”
“Maybe we didn’t get a hole.”
“That’s the right idea.”
They walked on the deck, looking for damage.
The cover to the anchor winch had blown away; the winch itself was not damaged.
“Let’s go up top,” said Martin. “Evans wants us to check the lifeboats.”
The top of the wheelhouse was much battered. One of the two lifeboats was splintered and useless. Martin laughed.
“Those things aren’t any use anyway, not up here they aren’t.”
“Sometimes you can get away.”
“In a lifeboat like that?”
“Sure, it’s been done.”
“I wouldn’t like to do that.”
“Neither would I,” Bervick tested the broken hull of the lifeboat with his hand. The wood creaked under the pressure.
“Let’s go below,” said Martin. “That’s no good any more.”
“I guess you’re right.”
They crossed the bridge and went into the wheelhouse. Evans was at the chart table. “What did you find?” he asked.
“One lifeboat knocked up and one ventilator on the forward deck gone,” said Bervick.
“I saw the ventilator go,” said Evans. “You say the lifeboat’s out of commission?”
“That’s right.”
“Shipyard for us,” said Evans and that was all. He turned back to his charts. Evans put on an act sometimes, thought Bervick.
“We’re going below, Skipper,” said Bervick and he and Martin left the wheelhouse.
Duval was in the salon. His coveralls were smeared with grease and he looked gaunt. He was sitting at the table, alone.
“When’re we leaving this place?” he asked.
“Pretty soon,” answered Bervick. “How’re your engines?”
“I guess they’ll be all right. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Bervick looked at the Chief’s grease-stained coveralls. “You have some trouble?”
“One of the pumps stopped working. I think we got it fixed. The boys are testing it now.”
“You look beat,” commented Martin.
“You would be too. How did Evans manage to get us on the rocks, I wonder?”
“He didn’t,” said Bervick. “Just fool’s luck that we got out of this thing this well.”
“You mean so far,” said the Chief sourly.
Bervick looked at him with dislike. Usually when they were working together there was no enmity but now, even on the rocks, he could not keep from disliking Duval.
“What’s happened to the passengers?” asked Martin.
“Damned if I know. They’ve probably gone out on deck or hit their sacks. That Major certainly got excited.”
“They all seemed excited,” remarked Bervick.
“I suppose you weren’t.” The Chief stood up and sighed deeply. “I think I’ll talk to Evans and see what’s going to happen.” He had started to leave when Evans came into the salon.
“When we going?” asked the Chief.
“Right away. Say, Martin, you take some men and go on deck and stand by while we go astern.”
Martin left the salon. “Are you going to be able to handle the engines all right?” asked Evans, turning to the Chief.
“I think so. What’re you going to do, go half speed astern?”
“Full speed, I think. Depends how tight we are. Come on, Bervick.”
Someone had tacked pieces of canvas over the broken windows in the wheelhouse. “Handle the telegraph for me,” said Evans.
“O.K.” Bervick looked out the window and saw Martin with several deckhands. They were standing on the bow, waiting. Lieutenant Hodges was also on the forward deck.
Evans maneuvered the wheel for several moments. “Ring Stand By,” he said at last. Bervick set the markers on Stand By. The Chief rang back quickly.
“Slow Astern,” said Evans.
Bervick rang the engine room again. The regular throbbing of the engines began. The ship creaked and shifted slightly.
“Half Speed Astern,” said Evans, his hands clutching the wheel tightly.
Bervick rang for Half Speed. The ship trembled. There was a ripping sound as they began to move from between the rocks. “There goes the guardrail,” said Bervick.
“Full Speed Astern,” said Evans.
Bervick set the markers on Full Speed. “Here we go,” he said.
The ship, with much groaning as pieces of wood were torn from the bow, moved away from the rocks.
Evans swung the wheel hard to port. There was a suspended instant and then the bow splashed off the rocks. The ship rolled uncertainly for a moment. Then they were free.
“Cut the engines,” said Evans.
The ship drifted away from shore.
“So far so good,” said Evans. “Give her Slow Ahead.” As the ship moved ahead Evans swung the bow out to sea.
“Now we can wait,” he said.
“For the leaks to start?”
“For the leaks.”
“Maybe I ought to go see the Chief, see how the pumps are working,” suggested Bervick.
“Sure, go below.”
The engine room was hot. Fumes from the engines made the air almost unbreathable. Duval was watching the gauges. His assistants stood beside the engines.
“Evans wants to know if the pumps are working.”
“Tell him I think so. Got good pressure.”
“I guess the engines weren’t bothered at all.”
“You can be glad of that.”
Bervick went up to the salon. Martin was looking out the porthole at the island shore.
“We made it,” said Bervick.
“Yes, we got off the rocks. I was afraid for a while we weren’t going to be able to. We were really jammed in there. Took the whole guardrail off.”
“Did you look in the focs’le to see if there were any leaks?”
“No. You think we should?”
“Yes. You take the focs’le and I’ll go down in the hold.”
On deck the wind was brisk but not strong. The air was clearer but the sky was still overcast. With night coming the weather might yet be good.
Bervick slipped the covering off one end of the hatch. Carefully he went down the narrow ladder. The hold was dark and damp and smelled of salt and wood. When he got to the bottom he turned on a light.
There were several crates of machinery on the deck of the hold. They had not been given much cargo to carry on this trip. Pieces of tarpaulin and lengths of line were strewn over the deck. Ammunition for the ship’s gun rolled about the hold. They had dismantled most of their gun and had stored the pieces. No one ever saw the Japanese in these waters.
Bervick examined the damp bulkheads carefully. They seemed to be sound. He walked over the deck and could not find any sign of a leak.
He turned off the light and climbed out of the hold. Martin was standing by the railing.
“Find anything?” Bervick asked.
Martin shook his head. “Everything fine. You find anything?”
“No.” They went aft to the salon. Martin went above to tell Evans about their inspection.
Major Barkison was in the salon when Bervick entered. He was nervous; his fingers played constantly with his belt buckle.
“Do you think it’s over for good?” he asked.
“I expect so. The heart of the storm’s gone by us.”
“I hope so. That was really dreadful, the rocks and all that wind. Does this happen often?”
“Occasionally it happens.”
“It was awful. We’ll get back all right now, though. Won’t we?”
“I hope so. Evans is good, he knows his business. I wouldn’t be too worried.”
“No, I suppose it’s all over.” The Major shuddered. “That wind, I’ve never seen anything like it. It was terrible, all that wind.” The Major sat down heavily.
Evans came into the salon. He seemed cheerful. He was smiling.
“Martin tells me there aren’t any leaks.”
Bervick nodded, “That’s right.”
“We’ll get there then. I’m hungry. Is Smitty around?”
“I think he’s below. I’ll get him.”
“Fine.”
“I gather,” said the Major slowly, “that the storm is over.”
“Well, it looks like it. Never can tell, of course. We may have some more but the worst is over.”
Major Barkison was relieved. “You know,” he said, “I must admire the way you’ve handled this. I’m going to recommend you for a citation.”
Evans laughed, “Send me back to the States, that’s what I want.”
“I’m serious,” said the Major. “You’ve done a remarkable job and we are all, naturally, most grateful.”
There was an embarrassed silence. Bervick looked at Evans and saw that Evans was at a loss to say anything. Evans did not know how to say the right things.
“I’ll get Smitty up,” said Bervick.
“Fine,” said Evans. “Go get him up. I’m hungry.”
Bervick found Smitty in his bunk. “Come on and get up,” he said. “We want some chow.”
Smitty swore loudly, “I seen everything now,” he said and he got out of his bunk.
Bervick went back to the salon.