Just Sea and Sky by Ben Pester

Author:Ben Pester
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

A simple enough operation when put that way in writing, but in fact the occasion was not to be without its moments.

Something had been intruding into my dreams as I lay in my blankets. As consciousness flooded over me I realized that ‘something’ was our pilot. Standing on the pontoon at our stern, it was evident he was not too pleased. Although he was there three quarters of an hour early, he had expected us to have been up and about, ready to go. 0630 meant to him ‘get moving’, not just thinking about being on our way. As we were to learn soon, he was a worried man. With guilt-ridden alacrity, Peter and I deposited our bedding down in the cabin and set about unmooring. This operation was expedited with the help of our loyal support team from Windjammer, who fortuitously had also arrived early. What was concerning the pilot was the need for us to arrive at Gatun Lock, at the Atlantic entrance to the Canal, in time for the first locking through of the day. This was when the waters would be at their quietest before they got churned up with successive ship movements and the turbulence that would build up as locking operations proceeded. Neatly attired in well-pressed, light tropical suit with a little bow tie and under a trilby hat, he seated himself at the tiller and, with Gladstone bag close beside him, took charge. He was to remain glued to that tiller and only rarely did he relax throughout the transit. It was to emerge in due course that he had seemingly made a private arrangement with a colleague who would be piloting the ship expected to be in the first locking with us. The objective, as was to be revealed, was to make our lot easier and, more importantly, safer. This was an added reason for the sense of urgency he was conveying.

Although it had not been the best of starts to the day, we were nevertheless now on our way. Things were now, I thought, beginning to pick up. The engine had started more or less on the first swing, and watching the bubbles flowing past our waterline I was pleased with the engine’s performance, as we could never be sure how it would feel about things when demands were placed upon it. Looking at those bubbles, it was conceivable we were approaching our maximum speed of nearly 3 knots, which was quite something.

‘Engine going well this morning, Peter!’

‘Yes. Certainly seems fine at the moment.’

Close on the heels of this interchange came the voice of the pilot.

‘OK, Skipper, you can put her full ahead now.’

This was something of a personal affront, I felt.

‘But she is going full ahead!’

A look of total disbelief, mixed with something akin to horror, crossed the pilot’s features. He restricted himself to the briefest of commentaries.

‘Jesus Christ!’

Having digested this piece of information, he proceeded to make it clear that we were not going to make that crucial first locking.

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