Dark Voyage by Swift Helen Susan

Author:Swift, Helen Susan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2014-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

JAN MAYEN LAND

JUNE 1914

I haled me a woman from the street,

Shameless, but, oh. So fair!

I bade her sit in the model's seat,

And I painted her sitting there.'

Robert Service: My Madonna

With none of the caustic banter that I had come to expect, the atmosphere was dull, until Sinclair began to sing a psalm so anciently obscure that only Pratt could accompany him, desperately clinging to any message of reassurance.

The tune sounded flat in the fjord but as they picked up the words, some of the others joined in. 'That's better, boys!' Captain Milne donated his fine tenor to the day. 'Sing, lads. Sing for the seals!'

As if they understood, some of the seals began to moan, so seal song intertwined with the human voices in an ululation more melancholic than tuneful but which seemed fitting for the time and place. To my nearly tone deaf ears it was like damned souls pleading for release, but when I tried to recall Jennifer's parting melody, I could not; the eerie combination of psalm and seals had driven both words and tune from my memory.

'Oh Jennifer,' I apologised, 'I haven't forgotten you, only the song,' I closed my eyes to recall her features, just as the Naked Lady bobbed up a cable's length to starboard, pointing her long finger accusingly.

'Oh Jesus,' Pratt cringed against the hull, 'Oh Jesus save us all.'

The figurehead spun in some unseen current, with the finger gesturing now to the ship, now to the surrounding mountains, and then it turned a slow somersault and slid softly beneath the surface, so the last glimpse we had was the rounded, white painted buttocks, taunting us with undeniable insult.

'She's going in front,' somebody said. 'She's preparing the way to Davy Jones' locker for us all.'

There was an instant of silence, and then Isbister laughed. 'What nonsense! Are all you brave strong men really so afraid of women that even a wooden carving can frighten you?'

Mitchell's laughter was forced, but most of the others joined in and for the second time I warmed toward Isbister. Only Pratt remained downcast, but nobody really expected anything else from him.

It was Captain Milne who slid over the stern with the ship's only pot of white paint, and he inscribed the name Lady Balgay in large, bold letters exactly over the place where Frigga had been painted. 'There now! There's our ship back! No figurehead and no foreign goddess. We're Lady Balgay from Dundee and that's the way it will stay.' He looked up, with white paint smeared across his face and his eyes aquamarine and unreadable. 'Right lads; we'll have an easy night tonight. Cards and a bottle eh? Get the spirits up?'

I nodded. I did not consider that anything could quickly restore the morale of these men, but Captain Milne had been managing whaling crews for years and he knew just what to do. Learmonth grinned and nudged Soutar. 'There we go, Sooty, rum tonight.'

Rubbing the back of his neck, Soutar looked at the spot where the Naked Lady had curtseyed and danced.

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