Their radio operator has screwed down the key of his set. He's sending
a single unbroken homing beam. Nick knew what that meant - they had
abandoned Golden Adventurer. He nodded once but remained silent.
He had wedged himself into the doorway from the bridge.
The restless impatience that consumed him would not allow him to sit or
be still for more than a few moments at a time. He was slowly facing up
to the reality of disaster.
The dice had fallen against him and his gamble had been with very
survival. It was absolutely certain that Golden Adventurer would go
aground and be beaten into a total wreck by this storm. He could expect
a charter from Christy Marine to assist La Mouette in ferrying the
survivors back to Cape Town, but the fee would be a small fraction of
the Esso tow fee that he had forsaken for this wild and desperate dash
south.
The gamble had failed and he was a broken man. Of course, it would take
months still for the effects of his folly to become apparent, but the
repayments of his loans and the construction bills for the other tug
still building would slowly throttle and bring him down.
We might still reach her before she goes aground/ said David Allen
sturdily, and nobody else on the bridge spoke.
I mean there could be a backlash of the current close inshore which
could hold her off long enough to give us a chance - His voice trailed
off as Nick looked across at him and frowned.
We are still ten hours away from her, and for Reilly to make the
decision to abandon ship, she must have been very close indeed. Reilly
is a good man. Nick had personally selected him to command the Golden
Adventurer. He was a destroyer captain on the North Atlantic run, the
youngest in the navy, and then he was ten years with P & O. They pick
only the best -'He stopped talking abruptly.
He was becoming garrulous. He crossed to the radarscope and adjusted it
for maximum range and illumination before looking down into the
eye-piece. There was much fuzz and sea clutter, but on the extreme
southern edge of the circular screen there showed the solid luminous
glow of the cliffs and peaks of Cape Alarm. In good weather they were a
mere five hours steaming away, but now they had left the shelter of that
giant iceberg and were staggering and plunging wildly through the angry
night. She could have taken more speed, for Warlock was built for big
seas, but always there was the deadly menace of ice, and Nick had to
hold her at this cautionary speed, which meant ten hours more before
they were in sight of Golden Adventurer - if she was still afloat.
Behind him, the Trog's voice crackled rustily with excitement. 'I'm
getting voice - it's only strength one, weak and intermittent. One of
the lifeboats is sending on a battery-powered transmitter. He held his
earphones pressed to his head with both hands as he listened.
They are towing a batch of life-rafts with all survivors aboard to
Shackleton Bay. But they've lost a life-raft/ he said, It's broken away
from their tow-line, and they haven't got enough boats to search for it.
They are asking La Mouette to keep a watch for it. Is La Mouette
acknowledging? The Trog shook his head. She's probably still out of
range of this transmission. Very well. Nick turned back into the
