The Bay of Deceptive Mist by Malcolm Archibald

Author:Malcolm Archibald [Archibald, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub

CHAPTER 13

Sailors get money like horses and spend it like asses.

Tobias Smollett: Peregrine Pickle

“Captain Kilgallon’s allowed us a run ashore, lads!” Esplin seemed almost happy for once. “Bring your winnings with you!”

All the gig’s crew had gambled a large proportion of their wages on the race’s outcome. The steward, a man with many privileges, had placed the bets with the rival ships and some Chinese sportsmen ashore, returning on board with a sizeable amount of money. Even when the steward had taken his percentage and allowing for some cheating from the rivals, each man gained a decent total.

The gig’s crew cheered, and those with shore rig dressed their best. Munro had seen such scenes before as even the roughest of seamen transformed themselves into men-about-town.

“You’re quite the dandy, Wardie,” Bannerman said.

“I like to look my best for the ladies,” Wardlaw brushed back his curly dark hair, viewing himself in a shaving mirror. With dark blue trousers, a white shirt and glossy boots, he did not look like a deep-water seaman.

“All you need is a top hat, and you could nearly pretend you were a gentleman,” Bannerman looked down at his much more modest attire.

Others, those without a change of clothing, washed as best they could and spoke of the grog shops and women Shanghai had to offer.

“Are you coming, Rab?” Bannerman asked.

“No,” Munro shook his head. “I’ll stay on board.”

“You have to come, Rab!” Wardlaw insisted. “We’re a crew. We rowed together, and we must celebrate together.” He grinned. “Besides, you’re such a scruff that when the women see you, they’ll admire me all the more.”

Bannerman glanced at Munro and nodded. “He’s not wrong, Rab!”

“You don’t have a choice, Rab!” Rodden told him. “Join us, or we’ll drag you along anyway.” He lowered his voice. “Chinese food is unlike any other, Rab. You have to try it.”

Munro forced a smile. He knew that shipmates must stick together, and any man not accepted by the crowd could have a bad time. Johnny-no-mates would not survive long in a sailing ship. He might find himself on the yard arm in a storm with nobody coming to his aid or performing all the heavy tasks alone deep in the hold.

“When are we leaving?”

Bannerman laughed. “That’s the spirit, Rab!” He slapped Munro on the shoulder. “Come on, lads! We can get some decent shore-going rig for Rab. He lost all his when Madam Dot crimped him.”

“I have a question for you all,” Munro said when his colleagues had passed him as fit for muster. “Is there a place in Shanghai called the Bay of Deceptive Mist? Maybe near the shore or even an opium den?”

The men looked at each other. “Not that I’ve heard of,” Buchan said. “I’ve been here a few times with the tea clippers and never come across that name.”

“No,” McDonald shook his head. “I know Shanghai well. I’ve never heard of such a place.”

“Why the question, Rab?” Bannerman asked.

“It’s a name I picked up once,” Munro said. “I heard it was a dangerous place, an area to avoid.

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