seemed to have lost its murderous intensity. Right now I'm going down
to my bunk to sleep for twelve hours - and I'll kill anybody who tries
to wake me!
He hung the mike on its bracket and put his hand on David Allen's
shoulder. He squeezed once, and said: You did well - you all did very
well. Now take her, Number One, and look after her. Then he stumbled
from the bridge.
it was eight days before they saw the land again. They rode out the
storm in the open sea, eight days of unrelenting tension and
heart-breaking labour.
The first task was to move the tow-cable to Golden Adventurer's bows. in
that sea, the transfer took almost 24 hours, and three abortive attempts
before they had her head-on to the wind. Now she rode more easily, and
Warlock had merely to hang on like a drogue, using full power only when
one of the big icebergs came within dangerous range, and it was
necessary to draw her off.
However, the tension was always there and Nick spent most of those days
on the bridge, watchful and worried, nagged by the fear that the plug in
the gashed hull would not hold. Baker used timbersiroin the ship's
store to shore up the temporary patch, but he could not put steel in
place while Golden Adventurer plunged and rolled in the heavy seas, and
Nick could not go aboard to check and supervise the work.
Slowly, the great wheel of low pressure revolved over them, the winds
changed direction, backing steadily into the west, as the epicentre
matched on down the sea lane towards Australasia - and at last it had
passed.
Now Warlock could work up towing speed. Even in those towering glassy
swells of black water that the storm had left them as a legacy, she was
able to make four knots.
Then one clear and windy morning under a cold yellow sun, she brought
Golden Adventurer into the sheltered waters of Shackleton Bay. It was
like a diminutive guide dog leading a blinded colossus.
As the two ships came up into the still waters under the sheltering arm
of the bay, the survivors came down from their encampment to the water's
edge, lining the steep black pebble beach, and their cheers and shouts
of welcome and relief carried thinly on the wind to the officers on
Warlock's bridge.
Even before the liner's twin anchors splashed into the clear green
water, Captain Reily's boat was puttering out to Warlock, and when he
came aboard, his eyes were haunted by the hardship and difficulties of
these last days, by the disaster of a lot command and the lives that had
been ended with it. But when he shook hands with Nick, his grasp was
firm.
My thanks and congratulations, sir! He had known Nicholas Berg as
Chairman of Christy Marine, and, as no other, he was aware of the
magnitude of this most recent accomplishment. His respect was apparent.
Quite good to see you again/ Nick told him. Naturally you have access
to my ship's communications to report to your owners.
immediately he turned back to the task of manoeuvring the 'lock
alongside, so that the steel plate could be swung up from her salvage
