‘You’re getting a bit thick, Boyd,’ grumbled the ‘Sub’ as they went back to the Ward Room. ‘I can’t get any sleep at all nowadays, what with your confounded sights and the skipper’s blooming energy. Last trip I was just caulking the bunk good-oh when Raymond started a field-day of pasting notices into the pilots. He said the paste wouldn’t stick the things unless there was a weight on them, and shoved the whole lot under me in the bunk. I ought to get extra pay for that sort of thing.’
‘Now, now, you mustn’t get in a state, dearie,’ replied Boyd. ‘Too much work is making you peevish. Here’s lunch. Just try to pick a bit of chicken, cold one, and you’ll rise from the table like a lion refreshed.’
‘At one time,’ said Raymond, sitting down, ‘we didn’t get much at sea, but in these new boats I always look forward to the trip on account of the change of grub.’
‘And yet we growl,’ put in Boyd. ‘I never met any one at sea yet who hadn’t a moan about the food.’
The meal was eaten in shirt sleeves, as the boat was getting rather hot now that the sun was well up, and after the fruit and custard had disappeared Raymond leant back with a yawn.
‘Pity we can’t smoke,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling damn tired. You keep a watch on the “perisher”[7] this afternoon, Seagrave.’
‘All right. Turn in and trust me to let you know if we bump a “mouldy.”[8] I won’t forget.’
In the after compartment the mess tables were down and the men were getting outside their meal seated on stools, the deck, or anything that came to hand. The gyro buzzed on one side of them, and the rattle of the steering-gear formed an accompaniment, which, however, did not seem to upset their appetites. Young men mostly, with here and there a grizzled petty officer for leavening, they moved about with that deftness which men acquire who are accustomed to live in confined spaces.
By-and-by, Seagrave went up the control room shaft and unscrewed one of the brass ports, disclosing a small circle of thick glass. Through this the water could be seen looking intensely blue, while on glancing up he could see the surface thirty feet above, which appeared like a blue ceiling or a large sheet stretched over the boat.
Occasionally the under side of a piece of driftwood could be seen floating on the surface and the fore-deck, and the gun stood out sharply defined.