It was just this one word – her name – which she wished her mother had spoken to her.
Marina’s head felt heavy, her thoughts draped in a thick sea mist. Her eyelids drooped. It was such a comfort to lie here and feel her father’s hand stroke the top of her head. The pillows were so soft, the bed so warm and comfortable. She would tell him. She would tell him . . .
18
The next three days at sea were perhaps the happiest days Marina had spent in her life. Her father – relieved she had not drowned – forgave her impulsive behaviour. He smiled at her quite openly in front of his crew and enquired after her good health. Was she hungry? Did she have enough blankets? But more warming than this obvious care for her physical wellbeing was the way he looked at her. Marina felt that when her father’s sharp, intelligent eyes rested on her, they really saw her, instead of sliding over her as if she were of no more interest than a chair.
The men, too, behaved more kindly towards her and included her more in their tasks: Finchin invited her on to the bridge and gave her lessons in navigation. Jones asked for help taking notes on his code book and asked her to test him on the various call signals he used. Her father came in to test the strength of the call signal and declared it excellent, thanking them both for their hard work. When there were no signals to decode, Marina and Jones played word games and puzzles. And if Perkins and Brown sometimes looked at her strangely while she helped them to wind up the winch or fold away the nets, they were not unkind. Only Trenchard’s manner was unchanged. But he kept himself to himself. If he was the spy on the boat, there was nothing very much to inform the Admiralty about. Even Marina’s foot had stopped itching since she had fallen into the sea.
Marina finally felt that she was a valuable member of the crew of the Sea Witch: she attacked her chores with enthusiasm and good humour, revelling in being on deck with the dogs as much as possible.
The weather held fair; the sea – which had seemed so impenetrable, as if forged from metal, or carved from basalt– looked, since her accident, as soft and welcoming as a well-made bed. To her father’s surprise, she had not caught a cold in the freezing water. In fact, she felt invigorated, as if the sea had been a health-giving draught. Ivy could put away her ghastly cod liver oil. From now on, Marina would just drink seawater!
It was morning. She had risen early, as usual. She had had no more seasickness since she had tumbled into the sea, and felt stronger and more energetic than ever before. The waves had fallen away as they approached the coast of Finnmark, and the Arctic sun was low in the sky, hazy and blurred through misty clouds. Marina breathed in the sharp, salty air and felt as if she were quite alone on the sea; instead of feeling lonely, she just felt more herself than ever.
She heard the men start their day, saw Trenchard, sullen as ever, move a heavy coil of rope. But as she turned back to look at the sea and the far-distant coast, she saw something that was so unexpected and so shocking that she cried out in alarm.
‘What is it, Miss Marina?’ Brown called. He was at her side in seconds, clearly worried that she might come to harm. She couldn’t speak, was quite silenced by what she had seen. She pointed and at that moment, a column of water spouted out of the sea on an impatient blast of air. A second later a grey dome breached the water, curved like a wave, and was submerged.
‘Aye, Miss Marina.’ Brown sighed. ‘I never get tired of the sight of ’em.’
‘Of what?’ she asked. Why wasn’t he worried? Whatever that thing was, it could surely finish off the Sea Witch and all who sailed on her as easily as a starving man eating a tin of pilchards.
‘It’s the whales, miss,’ he chuckled. ‘On their way to their winter quarters. They’ve swum for hundreds of miles and they’ve got hundreds more to go. Look –’ he squinted – ‘the mother has brought her calf.’
‘They won’t eat us?’
‘Eat us? Why would they want to do that? The whales are far too busy to bother with us, and I don’t think we’d make much of a meal for them. They have far more cause to be frightened of us than we of them.’
‘Because they are hunted,’ Marina replied sadly. She watched the mother whale rise again, blowing air and water into the trembling air.
‘Aye, they are. And it is an ’orrible business. The sea is turned red with their blood.’ Brown shook his head. ‘We’re barbarians to do that to such noble creatures. Why do we think we’re so clever if all we can do with our intelligence is hunt whales and build warships and guns? I look at those whales and it’s like watching the angels dance. And I reckon those whales are more holy, and their prayers and hymns more beautiful, than any hosanna you’d hear in church.’ He smiled awkwardly. ‘Only don’t tell Perkins I said that. He’s got more religion than me.’
They watched for a few more moments in companionable silence.
The Commander joined them, not commenting on two of his crew being quite idle. Marina could see how he, too, was hypnotized by the beauty of the creatures.
‘Father? Could I ask Jones to come and see them?’
He gave permission with a nod, and Marina went and hammered on Jones’s cabin door, telling him to get up and get on deck, ‘Quick sharp and no hanging about.’
‘But why?’ The sleepy voice didn’t sound as if it thought anything was worth getting
