A Ravel of Waters

Chapter 12

By two bells in the middle watch — nine o'clock that night — the wind was blowing fresh from the east across the anchorage. Jetwind lay with her head to it. She tugged at her anchor cable as if eager to get going. I was in the crow's nest at the summit of No. 2 mast, directly overhead of the bridge, the mast I had visited with Kay. From my vantage-point, fifty-two metres above the deck, I could see the occasional surge from a white horse. The wind was building up; there was a lot more punch still to come. There couldn't be enough, for my business with the Almirante Storni.

I moved round to probe beyond The Narrows into the waters of Port William's outer anchorage. Where was the Almirante Storni? Any moment the warship should become visible. A cloud, fringed yellow along its edge by a track of reflected shore light, whipped at zero feet across the quartet of low hills separating us from the outer anchorage. These hills terminated at Navy Point, The Narrows' Western head-land. The cloud moved so fast that in no more than a couple of seconds it seemed to have blanketed the 300-metre passage, blacked out the navigation light on the opposite side at Engineer Point, and obscured a trio of further low hills on the eastern side of the entrance gap. Then the cloud blacked out the crow's nest itself. The wipers were ineffectual against the thick vapour.

I cursed the cloud. A visual sighting was the only way for me to spot the destroyer and give me the edge, since my eyrie was a few metres higher than the highest of the intervening hills. The warship's radar might indeed pick up the tops of Jetwind's masts but that would not be significant in a port with other ships about.

I put out the overhead light to extinguish any reflection from the crow's nest windows and peered into the darkness. If the destroyer came to anchor, she would — presumably — display normal anchor lights. Was the destroyer already in Port William? Was Captain Irizar playing possum with a blacked-out ship? I dismissed the idea. Captain Irizar had no reason to suspect anything on Jetwind's part. I was staking everything on the Almirante Storni navigating The Narrows in the small hours, based on Dawson's opinion that that would be the best time because of the local cloud peculiarity. If, on the other hand, Captain Irizar decided to anchor further out at sea, my break-out would abort because from that angle of approach he would spot Jetwind, and I was basing my entire plan on remaining invisible.

‘ had to get out tonight, and I had to prevent the Almirante Storni from pursuing me!

My nerves were too wrought-up to wait another hour for my council of war. I decided to summon the team now.

I picked up the phone, dialled Kay's cabin. 'Will you come to my quarters right away?' 'Is there anything wrong? You said ten o'clock.' 'I know. Nothing's wrong — yet.' ‘I’ll be right there.'

Brockton was not in his cabin but in the radio office with Arno. I decided to collect Tideman from the bridge en route to the meeting.

I found the bridge with its lighted consoles and static dial lights like a stage waiting for the players to enter. 'Everything okay?' I asked Tideman.

'Aye — just checking the hydraulics. All three diesels are operating.' ‘I’ve put the time of our meeting forward — it's now.'

He gave me a searching glance — perhaps I was showing more tension than I was aware of.

He said to the helmsman — one of his own sailor-paratroopers, ‘I’ll be in the captain's cabin. Call me if anything crops up.' 'Aye, aye, sir.'

My cabin, reached via the chartroom and navigation office, was beneath the starboard wing of the bridge. Kay and Brockton were waiting. The place was warm compared to the chill of the decks; wooden panelling made it additionally snug. It was quiet, too: no creak or murmur of the ship's fabric penetrated the rubber buffer strips on the doors and sound insulation behind the panelling. The accommodation was luxurious, if I'd had time to enjoy it.

I locked the door and waved the three of them into comfortable seats while I leaned against my big desk. Kay had shed her working rig in favour of navy slacks and pale mauve blouse under a jersey-knit waistcoat whose cut emphasized the line of her breasts, making her look twice as feminine.

‘I’m not going to beat about the bush,' I started off. 'I intend taking the ship out tonight.'

For a moment there was startled silence. Kay jumped up and hugged me spontaneously, and Brockton pump-handled my hand.

'I always knew you were a one-way guy, Peter!' he exclaimed delightedly.

However, my words seemed to produce most effect upon Tideman. He was looking directly at me when I made my announcement. There was a split-second fire burst behind his eyes; his face went taut like an instant face-lift.

'Now?' he jerked out. 'Now? I can be under way in ten minutes…'

I laughed and shook my head. Kay was still close enough for me to detect a trace of perfume.

She said enthusiastically, 'I thought I was keen to go, John! Ten minutes!'

Tideman seemed oblivious of her, and said to me, 'What's our course to the Cape? What's our course!’

Brockton's momentary euphoria also vanished. He repeated Tideman's question. 'Yes — the course, Peter?'

'You're all rather jumping the gun,' I said. 'First, I need your help, each one of you. I want to discuss the logistics of the break-out…' 'Break-out?' repeated Tideman. 'That's a strong word.'

'And I mean it,' I answered. 'Listen…' I outlined my interview with Dawson and his veiled threat to enlist the Almirante Storni against Jetwind, When I came to Captain Mortensen's suspected murder, Kay looked very grave.

'I felt all along that there was something about that so-called accident. It was impossible, as far as the furling mechanism was concerned,' she said.

'Murder only adds to our problems,5 I pointed out. 'It strengthens Dawson's hand, in fact. It could, in fact, give him some justification for calling upon the Almirante Storni for assistance.'

'Which means that the destroyer would pursue Jetwind once Captain Irizar discovers the bird has flown,' added Brockton.

Until then Tideman had been the perfect officer, highly efficient, deferential, somewhat Navy-formal. Now the mettle of the man who on three occasions had bull-whipped racing yachts through the wildest seas in the world broke through.

He rose impatiently. 'What the devil have we been waiting for — we've lost hours! The wind's been good since this afternoon! We could have been away on the high seas by now!'

'I was tempted also,' I replied. 'But there's another consideration…' And I explained to Kay and Tideman, with the help of Brockton, about Grohman's angry exchange with me at Comodoro Rivadavia and its disturbing political under-currents.

'Dawson is playing along in the interest of what he terms a modus vivendi between the Falklands and Argentina,' I added. 'I don't know how Grohman fits in. However, I believe he's playing some deep game of his own.'

'Then why did you allow for four Argentinians to join our crew as extra hands? They can only complicate the issue,' said Tideman. 'What did you say?' I asked incredulously. 'We didn't need any extra hands,' Tideman added.

'You must be joking,' I said.'‘ certainly brought no one with me from the mainland.'

'Say, remember those guys with Grohman in the plane, Peter?' asked Brockton.

I felt the same surge of alarm as when I learned about Grohman's proposed picnic. It was another sinister straw in the wind.

Kay added, 'There wasn't room in the foc'sle for them with the rest of our crew. Grohman has housed them in the passenger accommodation.'

I faced their stares and said tersely, 'You have my word that I brought no crew with me.' Then I asked Tideman, 'Are the men sailors?'

'Aye. Good ones, too, from what I could make out. They speak only Spanish.'

'Maybe they're, crew from Grohman's old schooner and he took them on when he thought he was going to be the skipper,' I said. 'It's too late now to send them ashore, damn it, without giving the game away. Besides, there'd be too many formalities. Apart from you three, no one knows we're sailing tonight. I want to keep it that way.'

'We're wasting our time with all this talk,' Tideman said. 'Why don't we get the sail on Jetwind now?'

'Sorry, John. Until the Almirante Storni actually puts her nose into The Narrows, Jetwind does not budge.' 'Why?' He looked at me as if I were mad, 'What's behind the stalling?' asked Brockton.

I looked at each in turn as I explained. 'I summoned you here tonight because I felt I knew you well enough to trust you in an extreme situation. Equally, I hope you will trust me. I'm saying this because I realize that there are questions in your minds whose answers you will have to take on trust.' 'Such as?' asked Tideman.

'I have taken a major decision for which I alone can assume the responsibility. It is a captain's decision. I will tell you what I intend to do once the Almirante Storni shows up in The Narrows. I alone will have to take the rap for the consequences. I do not wish to implicate you. The matter is too serious. If you don't know in advance you cannot be held responsible after the event.' 'Who by?' asked Kay.

'International opinion for one’ I answered. 'Jetwind versus the Falklands is a powder keg ready to explode. Dawson is trying to keep the lid on by appeasing Argentina. What I intend to do tonight will trigger the explosion. It's too late now for any of you three not to sail with the ship. However, you're free to withdraw from assisting me if you feel you cannot cooperate on the basis of being only half informed.' 'I'm with you — naturally.' Kay's voice was tense.

'The sooner we sail, the happier I'll be,' repeated Tideman. Brockton said unhesitatingly, 'I go, whatever.'

I warmed to him. But a second later, I found myself questioning his intentions when he struck what I felt was a false note. 'Oh boy, what a story!'

'There'll be no story yet,' I retorted. 'No use of the ship's communications either.' 'Okay, okay,' he said. 'Forget it!'

'Now listen, Paul. There's no sign yet of the warship — I've just come from the crow's nest. That's to be your spot. I want you there for the next couple of hours. Report the moment you sight the Almirante Storni. My guess is that she'll anchor in the main fairway just outside The Narrows. Then, the moment she up-anchors after that, I have to know. I have a hunch that she'll do so when the sky clears in the early hours, as I'm told it does in these parts.' 'You can count on me all the way,' replied Brockton.

'Fine,' I said. 'That's not all. You're an America Cup expert. You've watched those craft wring every knot out of a situation…'

'Correction,' he smiled. 'Every hundredth of a knot. Timing is as hairline as that.'

'Our own position is going to change like lightning,' I went on. 'Once this ship enters The Narrows, I want human, as well as mathematical, appraisal of the way things develop. So you'll use a portable analogue computer and give me — every thirty seconds, or every second, if necessary — manual feed-in. I'll make any further decisions on the basis of what yon supply. You'll be one of the most vital elements in the entire break-out operation, Paul.' ‘I’ll do it — and not just for the hell of it, Peter.'

Tideman added, 'I don't know what's on your mind, Peter, but remember you have precious little room in which to manoeuvre in The Narrows — it's only three hundred metres wide.'

'That's where I need you, too, Kay. None of us has any idea at this stage what the wind speed will be, say at two o'clock or whenever the destroyer makes her entry. There's one hell of a lot of unknown quantities at this moment. But I must have at least ten knots speed when we enter The Narrows.'

Kay's eyes became abstracted as they always seemed to when she was busy with a calculation. 'It's a hell of a short take-off distance from anchor. Our harbour course is roughly a dog-leg, right? The first is the longer part, which will bring us to the southern entrance to The Narrows. Then, an almost right-angle change of direction to take us through-right?'

‘Jetwind keeps out of sight behind the intervening hills until the last moment before The Narrows,' I added. 'Our mast-head, where Paul will be stationed, is a fraction higher than the hills. So I'll keep the royals stowed until the last possible moment so there's no chance of detection. Once I set them, it will be too late — the race will be on.'

'Too late?' queried Tideman, voicing the question which was clearly in all their minds. 'Too late for what?'

'Sorry. That's the part of my plan you must take on blind trust. If it fails, it's the end of Jetwind. And of me.'