The Odyssey of Ben O'Neal by Theodore Taylor

Author:Theodore Taylor [Taylor, Theodore]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

15

ON THE FIFTH DAY, dawn came in with heavy black clouds to east; the sea had turned gray. The barometer reading sank, telling us that a gale of wind would soon hit. There was storm chill in the air, and it mounted slowly as the breeze picked up, making a fluttering arrow out of the wind pennant on the foremast.

Cap'n Reddy skipped organ recital that night to stand in rubber coat and sou'wester by the helmsman. Lightning was cracking out of every cloud, and the crew was turned out to furl the royals, the crossjack, and the flying jib. The Conyers was beginning to pitch and roll.

A little later, Cap'n Reddy shouted, "All hands on deck. Stand by the t'gallant halyards." The order was echoed throughout the ship, and there was a thud of feet.

A moment later, the bosun shouted, "Lay aloft an' furl."

As spray drenched the fo'c'sle, I helped Eddie secure everything in the galley and then went aft, skidding back and forth across the deck, to wedge the plates and platters in the pantry, tie down the tins.

Coming back into the saloon a few minutes after nine, I found Tee sitting there, face pinched and white, hands clenched on the dining table. She was disarranged. There wasn't much doubt why. It hadn't been six months since the Malta Empress wrecked. She couldn't help but be remembering how it was in the Empress saloon when that ship rolled and pitched and creaked and screamed, finally to stagger on Heron Head Shoal and come apart.

Uneasy myself, I went up to her and sat down. "Don't be frightened, Tee," I said.

She nodded, but each time the ship rode up and then pounded down drunkenly, she winced. Her lips were pearl-colored, and she kept swallowing.

I said, "This is a bigger and better ship than the Empress ever was."

Then the tears began to leak down, and she suddenly tore away from the table, running into her cabin. I went after her but heard the door lock. I said, "Tee, let me come in and stay with you."

She wouldn't answer.

Finally, I put on my oilskins and boots, then went out to stand in the lee of the afterhouse cabin trunk, the little house over the after companionway, not too far from the helm, which now required two sailors. It kicked every time the Conyers's stern rose out of the water. Cap'n Reddy stood with his back to the taffrail, riding the bucking stern. Only when blue-white streaks lit the ship up could I see his face. Rain was hitting like bullets, but he seemed relaxed, and I felt better.

Now and then there were yells from the rigging, and as the lightning stabbed out, I could see Gebbert and his men up there, hanging on as they furled sail. With each roll of the ship, the masts walked across the boiling sky. It was a night of "one hand for the ship and one hand for yourself."

Though I hate to admit it, watching, I suddenly realized that it was too soon for me to join them up there.

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