Alaska (125 page)

'I'm not sure she

wanted

to do it, but I made it very clear she had to.' They walked some more, and she added: 'That's when she suggested this cruise. What a brilliant idea!'

'I respect your daughter enormously, Mrs. Ross. I've never known anyone like her.'

'Nor I. She's special, if I say so myself. But then, as you know, so was her grandmother.'

'She didn't have to apologize.'

'She wanted to, when I pointed out how horrid she'd been.'

Later Tom walked the same deck with Lydia, and she too astonished him by the frankness of her comment: 'At Christmas, Tom, I thought I was very much in love with Horace.

He seemed the proper answer to everything. Now he seems rather fake, and to tell you the truth, I very much wanted to see you again. Because, as Father told me at the time, you're real.'

He could not believe what he was hearing, but then she said: 'I doubt I'm in love with you, Tom. I doubt I'll be in love with anyone till I'm much older. But the talks I had with you on that hill, they're the best talks I've ever had, and when Horace blathered on about his family and his school and the keen fellows he knew, I couldn't help thinking of you ... and reality.'

They made almost a complete circuit in silence, then Tom said: 'I wasn't really hurt at Christmas. I thought that that was the world you were entitled to and I knew I didn't belong.'

'Oh, Tom!' She burst into tears and stopped to lean against the railing. Reaching for his hand, she pressed it and said: 'Forgive me. It was Christmas and I got caught up in all the

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to several conclusions: I've been working at top speed for too long. I need a rest.

But then a deeper reason surfaced: Working with Sam Bigears reminded me of what a great girl Nancy is. I want to see her again. And when he announced that he would be sailing back to Juneau with Sam, he accepted the fact that the unintended drift toward Nancy he had spoken of to Missy was under way, and he muttered: 'Let it happen.'

Before he completed arrangements for other men to run the cannery during his short absence, an R&R supply ship arrived from Seattle, and the captain had a personal message for Tom: 'Mrs. Ross is arriving on the next Montreal Queen,

and her daughter will be with her. They want to spend the day inspecting the new cannery, and when they sail for Taku Inlet, Mr. Ross hopes that you will accompany them. They'll spend a few days there, then catch the Queen on its trip back to Seattle.'

Wondering what this assignment might imply there had certainly been no hint of anything like this at Christmas he felt a surge of excitement on realizing that he was going to see Lydia again, even though she had treated him so badly the last time. He tried to avoid thinking that the visit had any deeper meaning, but he did move about the cannery in a state of euphoria.

One decision was easily made: 'Sam, I won't be sailing with you back to Juneau.'

He said this almost mechanically, as if his decision not to visit Nancy Bigears was a free act without moral or emotional meaning, and that was the case, for it never occurred to him that in turning down Sam in favor of Mrs. Ross, he was also rejecting Nancy in hopes that something better would develop with Lydia.

The citizens of Ketchikan felt a sense of pride when some big passenger steamer sailed in, and since the Montreal Queen was the finest, newest ship in the Alaskan service, they lined the dock when the sleek Canadian beauty edged in. As soon as the gangway was dropped into position and secured to the dock, Mrs. Ross appeared at its top, attended by an officer. He was Captain Binneford, a trim, imposing seaman from eastern Canada with years of experience on the Atlantic crossing. Handing her along to Tom Venn, who ran forward to greet her, Captain Binneford said: 'Take care of this good lady. We want her safely returned when we stop at Totem Cannery on the return.'

As Tom reached to give Mrs. Ross his arm, he saw behind her Lydia, dressed in a white suit with blue nautical trimming. She looked like some carefully chosen young woman posing for an advertisement depicting a European voyage to Paris or Rome: she was an eager traveler prepared to see the 759

celebrations and thought that this was my world.' They resumed walking, and after a while she said: 'My world is considerably larger than that.'

But when they said goodnight, well after one in the morning with the mountains of Alaska looking down on them, she spoke with another burst of frankness: 'I don't know what this trip means, Tom. I really don't. Neither of us must take it too seriously, but you must take with great seriousness the fact that I want to keep you as a friend.'

She laughed nervously, then added: 'And so does Father. It looks as if you're to be around for a long time, and I wanted to make peace.'

'The pipe is lit.'

She kissed him and went to her room.

WHEN THE MONTREAL QUEEN

MADE HER STATELY WAY up Taku Inlet, Tom Venn stood at the railing with the Ross women and explained the glaciers on the western shore. The best part of their adventure came when the big ship anchored at the very end of the inlet to disembark passengers for the twenty-minute walk to a hidden lake and the lovely twin glaciers, small and glistening, which fed it.

It was a sturdy walk uphill, but both the Rosses insisted upon taking it, and they were well worn when they reached the beautiful gemlike glaciers, so different from the others. Standing next to them, it was possible to imagine that they really were part of a living field of ice. 'They're the daughters of the old woman up there,'

Lydia said, and they did indeed create that impression.

When they reached the cannery on the return trip down the inlet, Tom learned that Nancy Bigears was home for the school vacation, and when Sam came over to pay his respects, he informed Tom that Nancy still hadn't made up her mind what she was going to do. Mrs. Ross asked what options she had, and Sam said: 'Her teachers think maybe college,' and this so intrigued Mrs. Ross that she said: 'We've always wanted to educate bright young Eskimos.'

'We're Tlingits,' Sam said, and Mrs. Ross quickly said: 'I'm so sorry. Nobody has told me the difference,' and Sam said: 'No offense. Some my people not much to be proud of.'

'But I imagine you're very proud of your daughter.'

'I sure am.'

'Well, Mr. Bigears, if she's as good as you say, there should certainly be a way for us to get her into college. Could you ask her to come over while we're here?'

So on a bright summer's day, while the cannery was in full swing, Sam Bigears and Nancy came across the estuary to 760

meet two women about whom she already knew a great deal. When they came into the office, Nancy, scowling apprehensively from beneath her sharply edged bangs, looked first at Mrs. Ross, who smiled at her reassuringly as if to make her feel at home, and then at Lydia, whom she was seeing for the first time and whom she knew to be her rival. Mrs. Ross, aware that the setting, with everyone staring at one girl and waiting to hear what she had to say, was too much like a legal procedure, sought to soften it: 'Nancy, sit here with me. We've heard such exciting reports about your work in school, we wanted the honor of meeting a girl who could do so well.'

Taking the seat indicated, Nancy thought: They keep calling me a girl. I'm older than any of them. But now Lydia, taking the cue from her mother, said: 'You know, there's a way you could attend the university,' and Mrs. Ross added: 'Alaska needs ... in fact, we all need bright young people who will bring modern ways to everything.'

Aware that this sounded condescending, she hurried on: 'Like Mr. Venn . . . managing this factory.' Nancy lost the analogy, for she was looking across the room at Tom, in such a way that Lydia Ross knew instantly that the Indian girl was in love with him.

Tom said: 'Mrs. Ross told me it would be a privilege to meet you, and I assured her she wouldn't be disappointed.'

Now Nancy was ready to speak: 'Are you the wife of the man who owns this cannery?'

'I am.”

'Well, you should tell him that he mustn't stop my people from fishing in our Pleiades as we've always done.'

Mrs. Ross, surprised by this frontal attack but not unnerved by it, turned to Tom and asked: 'Is what she says true?' and Tom had to explain that under the law, when a cannery obtained the right to place its trap at the confluence . . .

'It's wrong, Mrs. Ross, and it ought to be stopped. My family has fished this river for more than fifty years.' She continued with such a strong statement about native rights that Mrs. Ross found herself agreeing, but in the end she put a stop to it: 'Nancy, we wanted to find out two things. Would you like to attend the university?

Have you done well enough in school to succeed if you do go?'

'I don't really know what a university is, Mrs. Ross. But my teachers keep telling me that I could go if I wanted to.'

After this frank self-assessment, Mrs. Ross began asking a series of questions calculated to identify the level of the girl's learning, and both she and Lydia were surprised at the mature manner in which Nancy responded. She apparently 761

knew several good works of literature and had a much better than average knowledge of American history. She knew what the Sistine Chapel was and how an opera was structured.

But when Mrs. Ross asked about algebra and geometry, Nancy said frankly: 'I'm not very good in arithmetic,' and Lydia chimed in: 'Neither was I,' but Mrs. Ross would not allow this easy escape: 'If you want to be first-class, Nancy, you really ought to know about proportions and how to solve for simple unknowns,' and Nancy replied with disarming frankness: 'That's what Miss Foster keeps saying.'

Mrs. Ross was disturbed to learn from Nancy and Tom that few Indian children ever persisted past grade six and that Nancy was the first Tlingit girl ever to reach senior year. 'She's set a good standard,' Mrs. Ross said, and Tom was as pleased as if he had been one of Nancy's teachers.

At this point no one doubted that Nancy could survive in a university, and Lydia said that she was already better educated than many sophomores: 'You could have a great time at the university, Nancy,' and Mrs. Ross assured both Nancy and her father that a scholarship of some kind would be forthcoming: 'It isn't that she needs the university. The university needs her.' But it was obvious that Nancy, who would be the first of her kind ever to undertake such a bold adventure, was uncertain about such a move.

'I don't know,' she said diffidently, but her father, proud of her deportment this day, said to no one in particular: 'If free, she take it,' and Mrs. Ross said quickly: 'Not exactly free. Could you help her with small funds?' and Sam said: 'I do now,'

and everyone laughed.

At the conclusion of the interview, which had gone better than anyone had expected, the Ross family reached a decision which both surprised and exhilarated Tom Venn.

Mrs. Ross announced: 'When the

Montreal Queen

stops by on its return trip this evening, I'm sailing to Seattle as planned. But Lydia tells me she wants to stay here a few days and catch our R&R supply boat on Friday.' Before anyone could comment, she turned to Sam: 'Mr. Bigears, could my daughter stay with your family till the ship comes? She certainly can't stay here with Mr.

Venn.' She said this disarmingly, with such easy grace that everyone was placed at ease, and Sam asked Lydia: 'You ready for real Tlingit potlatch?”and Lydia replied: 'I don't know whether you eat it or sleep in it, but I'm ready.' So when the Canadian ship arrived, she remained on the dock with Nancy and Tom as her mother boarded.

Mrs. Ross was even more congenial than before as she stopped at the head of the gangway: 'Thank you, Mr. Bigears, for watching over my daughter. We'll see you in Seattle in

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September, Nancy. Tom, you've been a gracious host. And all you good people who work at the cannery, God bless you. We need your help.'

THE MONTREAL QUEEN,

PRIDE OF THE CANADIAN LINE which sailed out of Seattle to Vancouver and the Alaskan ports, was more than 245 feet long, weighed a majestic 1,497 tons and was legally authorized to carry 203 passengers. But because many tourists wanted transportation to Seattle as the summer season drew to a close, on this trip she carried in hastily erected wooden bunks a total of 309 paying passengers plus a crew of 66. All but two spaces had been filled when the ship left Juneau on its homeward leg, and when it stopped at Totem Cannery to pick up the two Ross women, Mrs. Ross explained that even though Lydia would not be sailing with her, the Rosses would pay for two passages.

The purser took the problem to Captain Binneford, who said that in view of Mr. Malcolm Ross's close affiliation with the line, no charge would be made for the unused quarters.

The ship left Totem Cannery in the silvery dusk of a late August day, and because it was somewhat behind schedule, it traveled rather faster than usual in an attempt to make up time and beat the ebbing tide past the rocky portions of the upper inlet.

Captain Binneford knew well for the route had been carefully spelled out by the revenue cutter service years before and partially marked by them that in passing the Walrus it was obligatory to keep well to the west, that is, to keep the rock safely to port, and this he did, but for some reason never to be known, he cut the margin of safety, and at half after seven on Wednesday night, 22 August 1906, while there was still ample light, this fine ship plowed headlong onto a submerged ledge which reached out from the Walrus. The bow of the ship was punctured, and its forward speed was so great that a gash eighty-two feet long was made down the port side. Almost instantly the

Montreal Queen was wedged onto the Walrus, its gaping wound exposed as the tide went out.

Mrs. Ross was still unpacking when the speeding ship slammed abruptly onto the ledge, and she was thrown forward, but she was such an agile woman that she protected herself and was not hurt. She was one of the first on deck and the one who best understood what had happened, for she assured her fellow passengers: 'My husband runs a shipping company in these waters, and accidents like this do happen. But we have wireless, and other ships will hasten to rescue us.' She saw no reason for fear, and said so repeatedly.

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However, as she was speaking, Captain Binneford was sending and receiving messages which would exert a powerful effect on the fate of the Montreal Queen, for when his company headquarters received news of the grounding, they sent a reply which would become famous in Alaskan history: IF DAMAGE NOT TOTALLY DISABLING, YOU ARE ORDERED TO AWAIT ARRIVAL ONTARIO QUEEN SPEEDING

TO RESCUE ALL PASSENGERS. WILL ARRIVE

FRIDAY SUNSET.

Had Mrs. Ross been allowed to see this message, she would, as the wife of a ship owner, have understood its implications, for what the parent company was doing was ordering the captain of the stricken ship not to allow any salvage effort by ships of another line or by adventuresome seamen based in Juneau or Ketchikan. Maritime law was such that if a disabled ship allowed any other vessel to aid it, that other craft established a vested interest in the wreck. In this case, easing the Queen

off the rocks or towing her back to Juneau would be interpreted as providing help, which qualified for a share in the salvage.

If the Montreal Queen could hold on till her sister ship, the Ontario Queen, arrived from Vancouver, the Canadian company would save considerable money. And when Captain Binneford studied the condition of his ship, he made the gambling decision that it would remain safely wedged where it was throughout Thursday and Friday, by which time the

Ontario Queen would arrive to carry the passengers on to Seattle. It was a risky decision, but it was not stupid, for it looked to all the officers in charge of the Queen

that she was so tightly wedged that she must stay safely on the rock indefinitely.

Captain Binneford ordered his staff to so inform the passengers, who that night dined off badly tilted tables and slept in beds that kept rolling them to starboard.

News of the wreck did not filter back to Totem Cannery on Thursday morning until about an hour after word had reached Juneau, so by the time Tom Venn, Sam Bigears and others had launched all the cannery boats to effect a rescue of Mrs. Ross and all who could be crowded into the space available, many small boats from Juneau were already at the scene. Just as Tom and Bigears arrived at the Walrus, a coastal boat of some size which had been unloading at Juneau steamed up, enabling Sam to announce: 'We got enough boats here, rescue everybody.' It was agreed that they would 764

whisk Mrs. Ross back to Totem, where she could wait for the Friday arrival of the R&R supply ship.

But when the various vessels from the big one which had just arrived to the smallest boat from Totem approached the stranded Montreal Queen they became enmeshed in that insane law. To protect his company from salvage claims, Captain Binneford refused to allow even one person, passenger or crew, to leave his ship into the care of another vessel, regardless of its size. This meant that the 309 passengers of the

Queen

could line the railing of their badly damaged ship and almost touch hands with their would-be rescuers, but they could not leave the ship to accept help.

Tom and Bigears located Mrs. Ross quickly, where she stood in the midst of many women passengers, assuring them that rescue was imminent; of all the women she showed the least strain. When she saw Bigears, she cried: 'Oh, Mr. Bigears! You are a most welcome sight.' And she started below to fetch her bags so that she could be one of the first off.

'I'm sorry, madam,' a polite Canadian officer apologized as he barred her way. 'No one can leave the ship.'

'But our cannery boat is alongside. It's our boat. It's our cannery, just a few miles back there.'

'I am most sorry, and so is Captain Binneford, but no one can leave the ship. We're responsible for your safety. Your rescue is imminent.'

Mrs. Ross, unable to understand the stupidity of such a rule, demanded to see the captain, but the officer told her, reasonably: 'Surely you appreciate the strain he's under. He has enough to do to work with the crew.' And she was forbidden even to throw her luggage into Tom's boat lest the legal position of the steamship company be compromised.

Tom and Bigears remained at the wreck all that Thursday, trusting that somehow common sense would prevail, but none did, and when a second even larger would-be rescue ship from Juneau arrived on the scene, and men from the various small craft climbed aboard to learn from its captain what the situation was, they were told: 'If we were allowed to take off all the passengers, it might cost the Canadian company as much as two thousand dollars.'

'Wouldn't the salvage rights to the ship itself also be involved?'

'Never. We're talking about two thousand dollars, at most.'

Without hesitation Tom Venn cried: 'I'll put up the two thousand,' and half a dozen others volunteered to contribute, for as one sailor accustomed to these waters warned: 'You