of the constant strain imposed by the squalls and gales, which meant that they had only been able to rest for the minimum of time and then perhaps had not slept away the fatigue from the unremitting work throughout their periods of watch. And now the gales were lessening, albeit very slightly, the weather had become thundery, covering everything with a sultry, oppressive heat. He should have been aware of the explosive potential, just as he should have known that the incident of the sinking ship, reminding them all how vulnerable they were even in a vessel as sound as the Mary Celeste, would provide the fuse.
He had been taking his last turn on deck, standing very near Volkert Lorensen at the conn, when the argument had broken out in the fo’c’sle, so he had been able to hear it. The first mate had heard it, too, even though his quarters were farther away, and Richardson reached the dispute first.
By the time Briggs had entered the crews’ quarters, the younger Lorensen and Goodschall had been pulled apart and Richardson had positioned himself between them. The two seamen stood panting, glowering at each other. A bruise was already forming beneath Goodschall’s right eye but apart from that there appeared to be no injury to either man. In the scuffle, some of the playing cards that Briggs had banned before the voyage commenced had spilled over on to the floor.
As soon as he saw the captain enter, Boz Lorensen thrust his hand towards the other German and said, ‘My money. He stole some of my money.’
‘I did not,’ said Goodschall, denying the accusation immediately.
‘My cabin,’ Briggs stopped them, refusing an impromptu hearing. ‘Nine tomorrow.’
Sarah was already preparing to retire, her long hair streamed over her shoulder as she brushed it, when he returned to the cabin. She listened without interruption as he told her of the fight, hair brush cupped in her lap.
‘Appears a small thing,’ she said, when he had finished.
‘Not if there’s been cheating or theft,’ contradicted Briggs. ‘I should have anticipated the possibility of trouble.’
‘The weather has affected us all,’ said the woman. ‘First the gales, now this heat. It’s dulling us.’
‘A captain can’t afford to be dulled,’ he said. He hesitated, then decided against telling her that no doubt carelessness had caused the tragedy upon which they had come the previous day.
‘To magnify it too much would be as great an error, don’t you think?’ she asked sensibly.
‘You’re right,’ he agreed. He wouldn’t be caught unawares again, he determined.
The contrition of both men was obvious immediately they entered his cabin the following morning. The bruise had worsened on Goodschall’s face, blackening his cheek and half-closing his eye. Both stood with caps held before them, staring down.
The circumstances of the dispute, outlined by the first mate, were as simple as the argument itself. The playing cards had been brought aboard by Lorensen, who insisted that he had had no intention of disobeying the captain’s orders against engaging in games of chance. Goodschall admitted complaining of boredom after such an arduous crossing, and at first they had only engaged in tricks, starting a game only when the amusement had begun to wane.
Goodschall had been the loser and when Lorensen had returned from a visit to the heads he had discovered some money missing.
‘Did you take it, to make up for what you had lost?’ demanded Briggs. On a ship as small as his, with the men having to occupy confined quarters, stealing was a serious crime.
Before Goodschall could reply, Lorensen blurted out, ‘I found it.’
‘Found it?’ said Briggs.
‘I’d put some in my pocket. I forgot about it.’
Briggs sighed. Now that there was no question of dishonesty, the matter assumed far less importance. But there was still the disobedience of a captain’s order to be considered.
‘I expressly forbade wagering for precisely the reason that you two are standing before me now,’ he said. ‘The ship is too small and, as it’s transpired, the voyage too difficult for bad feeling to be allowed over a gambling dispute. Wasn’t that made clear enough?’
‘We didn’t set out to play,’ repeated Lorensen. ‘It just… sort of developed.’
This man was guiltier than Goodschall, decided Briggs. He remembered Richardson’s remark about Lorensen’s keenness to acquire money. He would resent paying the fine that Briggs intended to levy. He wondered if the resentment would linger in the fo’c’sle. The Lorensen brothers and Arien Martens all came from the same small island, he remembered. It was easy to imagine the ostracism that could arise in the crews’ quarters.
‘It won’t occur again,’ promised Goodschall.
‘Of that I’ll make quite sure,’ said Briggs. ‘I’m confiscating the cards.’
Such action might be regarded as petty, he knew. But Briggs decided it would be better for any bad feelings to be transferred to him than confined to the crew area.
He looked at the younger Lorensen. ‘I consider you more culpable,’ he said, ‘because you knowingly ignored an order and brought the cards on board. I’ll therefore fine you five dollars.’
He turned to Goodschall:
‘And you knowingly entered into the game, well aware it was forbidden. Your penalty will be three dollars.’
For men earning thirty dollars a month, it was severe enough for them to appreciate that he regarded what they had done as serious but not excessive enough to be considered unjust. He would log it, he decided, but not list it in their seamen’s books or in any report at the end of the voyage.
Richardson remained after the two men had been dismissed.
‘Weather is improving again,’ he said. He made a movement to clear his sweat-wet shirt from his back. ‘Good rainstorm might flatten the sea even more. And get rid of this confounded heat.’
‘I’d like to be able to ventilate today,’ said Briggs.
‘So would I,’ said Richardson. ‘The smell has become so bad that the men are complaining in the fo’c’sle. The cook says it’s even giving his food a taint.’
‘Seepage must be quite heavy.’
‘And this heat will make things worse.’
‘Perhaps we should risk shipping some water down there anyway. The pumps are more than adequate.’
Richardson moved his head doubtfully.
‘I wonder if that ship we came upon yesterday had any hatches off,’ he said. ‘Must have been something very odd to take her down as quickly as that.’
It would be a long time before any of them forgot that tragedy, Briggs knew.
‘It’s a question of balancing the risk,’ said Briggs. ‘We’ve sailed too long battened down.’
‘There’s still a high sea running. We’re shipping water almost all the time.’
‘I think it might be dangerous to wait longer,’ said Briggs.
When he emerged on deck, Briggs saw that Sarah considered the child sufficiently recovered to be allowed the run of her safety line. His wife had attached her own line immediately after Sophia’s and was guiding the child along the tilted deck with an arm around her shoulders. Sophia was laughing aloud, amused at a new game. Even the occasional spray did not seem to distress her.
Martens was at the helm, smiling that at last mother and daughter were getting some use from the harnesses he had made.
‘Is that line strong enough to support them both?’ asked Briggs. The ropes looked very thin, he thought.
‘More than sufficient,’ the German assured him. ‘I had someone spell me at the wheel when they came out and attached them myself.’
Farther along the deck, Briggs saw that Boz Lorensen and Goodschall had been assigned to work together. It showed foresight on Richardson’s part; it was difficult for shipmates to nurture grievances if they shipped side by side. The men were coiling the peak halyard and as he watched Goodschall said something to the other German and Lorensen grinned as he made his reply.
Briggs turned out to port. Somewhere hidden behind those lowering, thunderous clouds was the Azores archipelago. Even if they maintained the two to three knots they were running now, it would take until the next day before they were near enough to take a sighting from the most easterly island. He hoped it would not be too early in the morning; Sophia would be excited at her first landfall after almost three weeks.
Richardson emerged from the deckhouse and Briggs beckoned him, nodding towards the two Germans whom
