As had been the case in Hawaii, it was the other two who went to bat for Mickey. Their argument was that Mickey’s defection was harmless and that, since we were so near the end of our trip anyway, we should simply ignore the whole thing. I refused, saying it was neither safe nor prudent to continue with someone in whom I could have no confidence and who continued openly to defy me. As we talked, it developed that Mickey had given Moto a completely inaccurate version of the episode: (1) I had made an unreasonable demand; (2) he had complied with my order, but I had sent him below anyway, for some unknown reason.
There was only one flaw in Mickey’s account: Jessica, who had been in her cabin below, had heard the whole incident and remembered it perfectly.
I could only repeat that, under the circumstances, I had no other choice than to send Mickey home, by the first available ship.
There was a dead pause. Moto then said, in a low voice, that he would go, too, if Mickey went; then Nick, not looking at me, said he also would have to go. I said I was sorry that was their decision, but that I would make the arrangements. I left the boat and went ashore.
I walked aimlessly in the dark, in the vacant lot by the docks, trembling with frustration and disappointment. In a few minutes I saw dark forms approaching. It was the family, and I called out in blind anger, “I suppose you’re going to desert me too?”
They came over. “We just wanted to tell you,” Barbara said quietly, slipping her hand into mine, “that you were right and we’re with you all the way.”
“There was nothing else you could do,” said Ted, who had always been our mediator and balance wheel. “You’ve always put the safety of the voyage first and you mustn’t be influenced now by that dream of finishing the trip with the same crew. Even if we did give in, and take the boys back, it would be a kind of lie to pretend we had succeeded in finishing the trip as friends.”
“We’ll get along all right,” said Jessica. “I can take a watch.”
With tears in my eyes, I embraced them all.
The next morning, while I was making ready to go over to Kingston with Sir Anthony to see about boat schedules for shipping the men back, Nick approached me. “Skipper,” he began hesitantly, “if you would have me, I have changed my mind.”