Chapter 2 - A Run Ashore
After a term at Dartmouth John is now aboard the Cadet Training Ship HMS Frobisher for a training cruise in the West Indies.
John leant against a guardrail and watched as the sun set in a blaze of red and gold. When he had no duties this was a special time of day at sea. He was sure someone like Titty or Dorothea who had a way with words could express properly how it felt. As it was he could just watch the great, glowing orb sink below the western horizon with a slight sense of wonder that such a show was available for all to enjoy. Watching the sun set gave him a sense of peace and time for reflection.
The Cadets were kept busy all day and every day learning how each department of a warship worked. This week he had been attached to the Seaman department, working with the sailors, keeping watch with them, and cleaning and maintaining the ship with them. Today he and several others painted part of the forward superstructure, which the ever watchful eye of the Commander had spotted as needing sprucing up before the next port of call.
As the final sliver of sun dipped below the horizon John yawned. Before heading below to sling his hammock his thoughts turned back to England, but not his parents' home near Shotley, it was the hills of the Lake District that came to mind. In particular watching the sun set over the shoulder of the great hill they had called Kanchenjunga. It seemed a lifetime since they climbed that mountain, camping out in the open just above the treeline. Was it really only five summers ago? Thinking of those carefree holidays spent on and around the lake of reminded him again of Nancy, not that she was ever very far from his thoughts. Over the years they had grown close without realising it. The last evening they were together she had given him a copy of Knight on Sailing and a little painting she had done of the sailing dinghy Swallow. Both were now below in his sea chest, treasured keepsakes of an evening that remained etched in his memory as the first time they kissed and acknowledged their feelings for each other. They had embraced again the following morning before catching the train home but with his mother and the rest of their families present that had been a more chaste moment, a quick hug, a brief touch of hands and a peck on the cheek. But even that had conveyed emotion. John had had to blink hard and turn away in case he made a fool of himself. Even now the memory of it brought a lump to his throat.
Now he was thousands of miles from the lake and Nancy. Tomorrow the ship would anchor off a real tropical island and there would be an opportunity for shore leave and some shopping. He wanted to find something special to take back for Nancy but had no idea what he was looking for. Hopefully he would find something appropriate. After all the Caribbean was the Spanish Main of old, the haunt of pirates and buccaneers.
The following morning the hands were called half an hour earlier than usual in preparation for arrival. Because of her size Frobisher was not going alongside but anchoring off in the bay. Still working with the seamen John was stationed on the fo'c'sle with the cable party. He watched with intense interest as both anchors were prepared for letting go. Various lashings and strops were released until just one slip was all that kept the anchor from running out.
As the ship slid closer to her appointed anchorage a signalman on the bridge wing indicated to cable party the distance to go. His counterpart on the fo'c'sle called out the distances and John repeated them so all could hear. "Three cables to go... two cables... one cable... half a cable..." The ship started to vibrate as the engines went astern to stop her. "LET GO!"
A seaman swung a sledge hammer releasing the final restraint that secured the cable and Frobisher's starboard anchor plunged into the clear water of the bay. The chain rushed out in flurry of rust and paint flakes as the ship dropped astern. The signalman displayed the appropriate flags as a Bosun's Mate called out the amount of cable. "Three shackles… four shackles…"
The propellers stopped again and the initial rush of cable slowed. A signal from the bridge, "Veer to six shackles on deck."
Slowly now the chain paid out. "Stop!" shouted the Bosun's Mate, "Six shackles on deck sir." he reported to the officer supervising the cable party.
There was a pause until the order came to secure the fo'c'sle. The port anchor, which had been made ready in case there was a problem with the other, was secured. Lashings were put on the starboard cable so it would not run out further. All in all it took some time to stow all the gear to the Chief Bosun's Mate's satisfaction and the cable party dismissed.
It had been a long morning but John was pleased had had the opportunity to see close up the procedure for anchoring. The lectures and demonstration models at Dartmouth had been good, but it all made more sense when performed for real. Now he was looking forward to going ashore.
It was mid afternoon when John went ashore with some of his fellow Cadets. As they landed a group of locals crowded around offering various services:
"Let me show you round sirs…"
"My taxi is very good sir, very clean…"
"Show you the best bars on the island..."
They managed to convince the touts that they could look after themselves and made their way to the centre of town. Trying to look like seasoned travellers and not wide-eyed tourists the group progressed slowly up the main street. The sights and sounds that assailed them were so different from home. Open-fronted shops displayed their wares; fruit, vegetables, brightly coloured clothes, and everywhere seemed to have bottles of rum for sale. An enticing smell from a small shop caused them to stop and investigate. Inside a large lady in a brightly coloured dress was cooking meat and fish on a charcoal grill and serving it with fresh vegetables.
"Smells good. Shall we try some?" suggested one of the Cadets.
"Why not? I'm famished." responded one of the others.
"You're as bad as my brother, he's always famished." declared John, "Still I reckon I could manage some myself."
The little group managed to squeeze around one of the small tables outside the shop and decided to get some of both the meat and the fish to try. "By the way, what sort of meat is it?" asked one.
"Local goat, very tasty." replied the woman.
John immediately started to laugh. "Come on Walker, what's the joke?" asked one.
"It's nothing really. An old friend of mine is always using the expression 'barbequed billygoats' and this is the first time I've actually come across it real life."
"Walker you're one of the strangest chaps I know. Normally you're calm, cool, professional, really officer-like, and then you come out with nonsense like that!"
Feeling older than their years they ordered rum punches all round to accompany the food. Talk soon turned to their programme for the next few days. "Official cocktail party this evening, ship open for visitors tomorrow afternoon and Cadet Regatta the day after." stated one authoritatively. "First part of the Port Watch are detailed off for the party tonight, Starboard are acting as hosts for tomorrow."
"Has each watch sorted out their crews for the regatta yet?"
"Well First Starboard have our helmsman for the whaler sailing. Haven't we Walker?" This was accompanied by a friendly slap on the back for John. He spluttered over a mouthful of fish.
"Well it seems that way but I don't know if I am the best man for it."
"Come off it, you're probably the best sailor in our term. You could sail rings round the rest of us at Dartmouth."
Embarrassed John felt his face redden, but acknowledged the compliment with a grin, "Alright, I was good in the dinghies but the whaler is a different beast; two masts, three sails, and they must weigh a couple tons."
"What rot, you can manage anything with sails. I wish you were in our part of watch, then we would win something."
The chat around the table then became more general. John was quiet for while. He knew he was a good sailor, but had not realised his term-mates thought so highly of him. He always did his best but it sounded like he was already marked down as winner, and he did not want to let down the others.
After they had finished the food the group split up. John and a friend wanted to shop for presents to take home, the others decided to stay and have another round of rum punches.
Soon after leaving the others they found a shop selling jewellery, much of it made from coral. Although he could not ever remember seeing Nancy wearing anything more than a wristwatch John was certain there was something there she would like. After looking for many minutes there were so many things that he felt sure would look good on her that he nearly gave up in frustration. Eventually he narrowed it down to three pendants. He turned to his companion who had already selected a pair of earrings for his sister. "Look Martin, you seem to have an eye for this sort of stuff. I can't decide which of these she'd like best. What do you think?"
"Not knowing the lady in question it's going to be difficult. What sort of dresses does she wear, high cut and demure or is she the bold type with her cleavage on display?"
John was stumped, "I don't know. She's the bold type alright, but hardly ever wears dresses, she's more tomboy than glamour girl. Shorts and shirts are more her line"
"What about her colouring. Is she blonde, brunette, a redhead? Dark and fiery, pale and interesting? Would one of these compliment her eyes?"
"Oh! She's sort of dark-ish. Her eyes are a wonderful hazel colour that changes with the light, and they have a light of their own that makes it look as if she is always about to laugh."
"Good God! You have got it bad! Look if I were you I'd play it safe and get this one with the coral centre and the tiny pearls. It will go well with most things and if she is a smitten with you as you seem to be with her she'd love anything you give her."
"Are you sure? It's the most expensive of the three."
"If she is as good as you imply, she's worth every penny."
"Right, you've convinced me. I'll bow to your superior knowledge. Blow the cost, I'll get her that one. Not a word to the other chaps though, please."
Author's note:
Thank you to all who said complimentary things about the first chapter. I hope this has been as enjoyable to read as it was to write.
Please let me know if you think I am getting carried away with technicalities. I always liked the details of navigation and seamanship that Arthur Ransome included in his writing, so I try to emulate it in my own poor way.