Shut up Worley growled as the Cyclops righted herself.She's seen worse seas than this. He could not see any sign of trickling grit from the ship's motion. They groaned and creaked under the stress, but they seemed firm and secure. Then Church went below and checked two of the ore holds, probing his flashlight at the heavy shorings and stanchions installed to keep the manganese cargo from shifting. He turned without a word and left the wheelhouse. Then slowly his hands relaxed as he realized any further argument with Worley was a waste of breath.
He made his way aft and saw that the steam lines that ran the winches and auxiliary equipment were scraping against the bulwarks as the ship rose and fell with the long, slow swells.Ĭhurch hesitated, his fists clenched. The waves had diminished to ten feet and no water was coming over the deck.
He stepped onto the deck and stared out over the bow. I hope to spend the rest of my State Department service in Washington. No, I sent her on ahead to our home in Maryland. The steaming light, suspended between the two forward masts that formed a support for the skeletal grid connecting the coaling derricks, cast a weird glow that was reflected by the eerie radiance of the approaching swells. They made their way topside and walked along the runway leading from the aft deckhouses toward the forecastle, passing under the bridge superstructure awkwardly suspended on steel stiltlike stanchions. If Church thought the request unusual, he said nothing, simply nodded and started off toward the forward part of the ship with the fat little consul general huffing in his wake. Though the person on the stretcher was obviously part of his entourage, Gottschalk took little notice, turning his attention instead to the chain-drive Mack truck that brought up the rear. Church watched as a figure on a stretcher was lifted out and carried on board, but he failed to discern any features because of heavy mosquito netting that covered the face. The second vehicle in the caravan was an ambulance.
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