maveric

when the sireen was hailing
After I was finished washing the dishes, Rissa fetch a bottle of Wolf head gin from ship’s depot. “It’s the portion for crew members,” she answered to my astonished look.
By the night a few of the crew went to shore; they were drunk and when they marched if file along the gangway; there was a great hubbub and lot of hailing and they staggered against the guard rail. It was New Year’s Eve.
the order was given to me to bring lot of mixed juice into the officer’s mess-room. By eight o’clock most of the amidships people were gathered in the mess-room, drinking their jolly Bolls liquor and speaking Swedish language together. They talked about the events of the day. The Polish engineer sat among them with his flat face red and his large round head sweating; he didn’t understand a word of spoken language, he drank a lot and kept his smile on; with his natural Slav soul he enjoyed sitting amid a large company and drinking together with them.
The night wore on; at eleven o’clock the air in the mess-room was thick with cigarette smoke; the door was opened to the corridor. As the voices in the mess-room rose, the dignity in the mess room reduced. A quarrel had risen between the chief mate and the boy-faced chief engineer. The subject of those discuses was from the day’s events aboard the ship. The chief mate grumbled that the engine room was unable to deliver the steam for the full speed run. “There is not enough steam available to get the deck’s derrick run,” he bawled.
The chief sat in silence for a moment. Although the air in room was warm, he had the peak cap on his head and his face was red under it. “It’s not so easy get the steam up to the top, and keep it there on top , when there could to be unanticipated order to stop the main engine. The steam will run away. Or the boiler will blow up, anyway blowing the steam…up to sky. And what it will cost for the company! Every time when we blow up the steam in the air, we waste the money, I hope the manoevring up there will be worth the money. The steam costs money, you know.”
Then they were talking all at once, waving their arms; their voices surging back and forth. The topic was the ship and the crew. “I’m pretty sure that we will need fresh stokers,” the second mate took part.
Rissa did not participate in this everlasting waving row between the deck and the engine. Instead she wanted to know what was the name and company of the last ship of the new cook, who sat on the outer end of the bench. Olli was the name of the cook; he was a slim, pale young man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a black overcoat. He had arrived onboard earlier in the evening, and because it was New Year’s Eve he had naturally got drunk. He still wore his overcoat, and. he sat among the amid ship’s people, speaking with a thin drunken tone, more by himself than to the people around him. He was eager to let all to know that he was the oceans wander, an old stager. “I have been out here for a long time - all over the world from China to Peru,” he said. “Doesn’t anyone advice me about the grub; the grub is my trade, you know. If I see a bunny running, I always think how good meal I could make of it.Yeah, Jitter. Jytte, say I was the name of the last canoe I was on; say, we were up in north on the Argangel route, rolling from the artic winter to the tropic. It was a shadow line really, Say it was.”

I made an acquaintance of a deck boy who was called Junky. He had a night watch on deck. He lolled near the gangway entrance. His night watch started from seven o’clock in the evening and lasted to seven in the morning. “They’re all fuckin’ similar,” he said. “They slander the folk of the poop, but they are just fuckin’ the same. Look for example that Pole, the codger is drunk all the time, but it can do it so that no one can see.”
I looked over the rail, down over the quay. In spite of the late hour there were people walking along on the illuminated quay side, and hanging around there; they were in pairs and in groups. My attention was arrested by the black figure at the foot of an immobile crane, a black, lonely shape of a man. There was something strange in this motionless, dumb and black figure standing there in the darkness, and because the man stood a distance of about a hundred and fifty or so, it was difficult to make out in which direction the man was watching.
“It’s the fucking Hamlet there. Lurking for girls,” Junky said.
“Girls?” I wondered.
“Yes, whores,” he repeated, giving a quick glance at his wrist. “Usually they do not come down before the small hours. If they come at all. The man there down is the vice squat, twat, pastard who will spent his cold night out there like a watchdog. It’s a cold night to come.”
I thought about what sort of loyalty made this knight of sad cast stand there in the cold winter night watching women’s illicit boarding. What it was the used? Standing alone in cold night sake of duty of that sort; no, there must be something else in the mind of this argue-eyed dog.
The noise of a dispute carried out of the officer’s mess. Then there was shout;” Com on, com on deck yoyo”!
We went to see, what that was all about.
The Chief mate was stanching in the corridor, his arms waiving. In front him, a bit apart stood the Pole, still the benevolent expression on his round face, his face was littering in sweat I at once saw that there was a fighting going on.
With light and easy movement the pole hit to face the chief mate, and it was easy indeed, there was no resistance nor will to fight anymore, the chief mate let his hand fell and turned his back and went in mess-room, and the wholly act was over less than in five minutes.

The night was bitter cold and the snow was falling; it seems as if t the light of the lamps made the snow shine yellow on the wharf. A man with an unshaven, gaunt face, bare headed and wearing a snappy gabardine was climbing up the gangway. Junky took his guard stance toward the embarking stranger, blocking the way of the upcoming man.
“What do you want?” I heard him enquiring.
“Looking for friends,” was the reply.
“What’s the name?”
“Suutari. Stoker. I am also a stoker; now no job - it’s winter, you know. The winter they could have their own, but the summer will be our,” the man said, nodding with his head toward the bridge.
“No man like that onboard here,” said Junky.
“Should be.”
“No one.”
“Let me come onboard for a bit to get some drink and warm my feet.’
“No way.” Junky held his mind and the man with disapointing, turned around and started for shore. I stretched to look down over the rail and saw as this freeze-dried Lazarus descended to shore and then crossed the quay and disappearing behind a storage hut on the quay. For a moment I had feeling of being advantaged; the familiar shipboard behind me with its warm interiors and all that food made me felt cozy and I felt belongin to the ships’s company.


At midnight on that particular night, when the old year turned into the New Year, there were blasts of sirens from the ships around and the wild hailing of men who bid the New Year welcome.
The last cabin, on the port side of amidships corridor, was the abode of Mr. Henrikson, the third mate of the S.S. Johan
Mr. Hendrickson was large bony man, already past his best years, with a gaunt face and there was a screwball stare in his watery grey eyes. He seemed to spend his time in his cabin by himself, for very seldom I found him sitting in the mess-room amid the other people. Mr. Hendrickson was native of Aland, Finnish Swede by descent, from an island in the Gulf of Finland, which was famous of those great days for the deep sea sailing vessels. Now his cabin’s door was wide open and seeing me pass by, he gestured me to step in. I entered; he was sitting at his small table, and after he beckoned to me to sit down, he filled a glass with whisky and with an impetuous motion, waved the glass toward me. He didn’t say very much, just sat and made some noise; for a while he grunted as though he was trying to remember something. Suddenly he hit his forehead with his palm and as if he just now remembered his name and his post address on shore, and he loudly exclaimed, “I am Tritsof Hendrickson from Marjaham, Alan Finland!” He said something more with his eyes glittering. He seemed to fall into his confused memories, so deeply that he seemed totally forgotten my attendance; then he burst into fit of awful coughing. I got to my feet and left, I heard in thhe corridor as this ancient sailing ships’ mariner was coughing in his small cabin.
On deck I met Rissa. “captain do not like this noise,” she said, wishing me goodnight and a better new year, and then disappeared into her cabin.

Next day was sonday, and there was silence over the sipboard untill afternoo.

On Monday the Bosum said me after breakfast: ‘ You Charle go with Atila and get ready the life boat on boas-deck.’
I went up to boat deck and joined the a/b Attila who was uncovered the starboard side life boat. The uncovered boat exposed the inside of the boat. There was seat running around the boat and across the boat as well.
The boat was cluttered with junk.
Antila leapt into boat,” Looks nasty. Bloody mess here”, he said. “It’s the chief mate’s business take care of the life boats. Where we get if things start goes wrong on board the ship? By God, here will be narrow escape then,” he then added.” This is criminal’s carelessness, You know the company is just thinking thinks like their freights, the business, profit, and the damoreght, everything else but the life of some poor seaman. So be it, things never change”.
We started fix the boat, making her sea shape, as seamen were call the job. We took out gear and sails from the boat, piled that on deck. Many interesting things appeared which use I had no idea. The second mate came and took look over the brink into boat. “It’s leaky. You is going Plung, Plung, if your lower her down,” he said by his oddly usage.

And you too, I was thinking, but said nothing.
We calked and tied the slits with tow and tallow. “Is this your first ship”, Antila asked when he was straightened his back and had lit a cigarette.
I nodded. ”yes”.
“Way you came.”?
“I wanted to be a seaman. See the world and the different port in the every corner of the world”,
“And the whore in the every port to call, and all that cheap drinks”, he remarked.
“Many of my fried have get to sea when they had reached the age require to sing on a seagoing ship”,
“I know there are plenty of young chap at sea.” Atila said and threw his half smoked cigarette over the side then stood up “Was told” he went on. “That the man goes to sea when they are not fit living on land. They come here when they are young, before they know the unhappiness of the life at sea. They had entered into doomed life, doomed wandering and drinking for ever, the only friend being another seafarer, the familiar company and the common style of sea life. There are many so called ‘first trips man’, whom have gave up after the first trip. They are more or less saved. However the most part are back at the sea, continue their wandering, over and over, they return to sea as the habitual offender return into prison. The ship is goal for seamen, they haven any other home, and they sing on vessel of all sort. Until they died for alcohol or they go down with their iron cell to the Jones locker.”
“But here you eat regular, and the food is good and there is the cheap export, duty free goods as well. Every time I have saw a sailor on land, they showed plenty money, and all that thinks which landsmen not have”
“Yes they have money, for short period. Antila commented, “But just for short period. Here seafarer has an advantage over a shore wage-earner in that he is practically forced to save a substantial part of his earning – simply because, there is not opportunity to spent money at sea, nine months of the years. Whilst the landsman decides to stop at the local bar for a few beers, or dance with the girlfriend, meanwhile the seaman in the middle of the ocean in expensive play card and smokes their duty-free American cigarettes, talking with his shipmates.”


This saying Antila ended the discussion and ordered me to put back into boat the gear we had unloaded from the boat. The repair with the lifeboat was ready.


----

At a night I had a unenviable experience. I was awakened by the feeling that somebody was watching me. As I opened my eyes I saw a man’s head beside my upper bunk. The head wore a navy cap, the face beneath the caps was intoxicated dull and there was name of an unknown warship on the band of the cap; MSH HALENFRALD it read.
The eyes under the HMS HALENFRAL stared at me, “I m rusless killer. The hi man you know.” The man croaked.
The man stood there swaying slightly looking at me, he was tall man with rat chapped head that was no chin, he had a prominent edam apple that jumped up and down, I saw a military pocket knives in his hand. My roomate, the trimmer who had before occupied the under bunk has gone ashore, I was alone with this lunatic . The man set up his fist with the knife, by instinctive I cowered away, by leaping down from the bunk and out the cabin, I hear loud laugh of the madman behind me when I fled. I stayed at companion stair for a moment to looking back and saw how the man in the naval uniform struck the knife through the door, he had get rage and he was disgorge his rage to the door by beaten the door in sieve. I heard him howling there like beaten dog.
Then there was the familiar tone of Atila and I hear the tone saying; “ What a hell you are doing here? Take it easy you. You thing you can go round here, breaking the doors with you knife“, there was no anger in his tone, and I saw him wrenched the knife from the man’s hand.
I went up to, deck then to amid ship.
I found Junky in his night watch post; he was sitting in the galley accompanied by a blond haired slim stranger who had open earnest face and soft voice.
I greeted them to saying that I have seen a tremendous killer in the aft. A Real throat cuter.
“He is one of the new stokers. We were coming together aboard. He get mad, didn’t know that he get mad so easy, with few glass of vodka.”
“ The Uniform? Where from is it?”
“Stolen, from a limey warship during we were steamed her to a shipyard, to be convert into passenger ship. I think he was stolen many sort of things there, like the cap of the chief engineer.”
Rissa came with her vigorous heel naps on deck.
“Who is the cauldron watch down below? She inquired.
“ It’s me”, the new blond stoker said.
“Rissa examined the man for moment.” Are you All Right?”

“Sure, I am OK.”
“Where’s the beast that been sneaked here all over with his dirty hands. ?”
The man gestured toward aft. “There somewhere. He is free know, no duty.”
“Please don’t let the lunatic go down into engine room.”

Following morning I was sitting in the sailor’s mess-room among the other seaman as the Donkey-man slid into mess-room and the nocturnal brawler put his head in the doorway yelling after the donkey man “Say. How you ran you rat, You the yes-man. What the mater with you. Didn’t ye get your score sack filled up yet. You fucking toady. I’ll bet yoy with the score sack smashing your head with it”
“Take away you ugly face from the doorway” Donkey snapped feeling save among the men in the mess-room.
The chief engineer came down in after quarter and found the stoker standing necked in the corridor.
“Your are fired” the chief said.

“I need money. I need the payment for seven days, because your will break the contract.”
“You must out from here. You have brawled here all the night, smashed the door and put in disorder the places here. You have pissed up your job even you not get start it, you are guilty yourself to cancel the contract.”
“Don’t try to send me away with the wages no paid. I’ll raise a hell if you try to send me away no money. I have the union behind me”.
“ Get dressed,” the chief said, “ I try to find some payment to you, to get rid of you.” So saying the chief turned and went on deck. “ Ok you go make your accounting, I’ll get to dress”, the stoker hailed after the chief.
An hour latter I found the stocker, crying half dressed in corridor. “ I have got the boot,” he moaned. “They kicked me out, Ou, that fucking bastard kicked me out”.
Then there were the police carrying the man ashore.
Last edited by maveric : Today at 02:50 AM.