Coasts of Cape York (57 page)

Several times Willy lost his balance and was slammed against the bulkheads or objects on them like the coiled fire hoses. Feeling sick at heart from fear he struggled back into the wheelhouse- to find that things were now even worse. The bow was pitching up and down twenty metres every few seconds and waves were breaking onboard. What appeared to be massive deluges of water were constantly dashing against the windows and everyone had to wedge themselves against the fittings and cling on.

The anxious, fixed looks on the faces of Capt Proctor and Mr Marshall did not help. ‘They are worried,' Willy thought.

Midnight crept by amid howling wind and crashing waves which deluged the decks so that the after part of the ship looked like a submerged rock. Driving rain lashed the ship and lightning began to flicker and flash. Outside on the deck something began to bang with a metallic ‘Ting! Ting! Ting! Ting!'

The weather report for 24:00hrs was even more worrying. The eye of the storm was now over land and estimated to be only 80km south of them. It had turned towards them and the wind speed was now reaching 120 knots. Worse still the wind direction had continued to shift so that it was starting to come in from slightly north of west.

Capt Proctor shook his head and shouted into Mr Marshall's ear. “We will have to shift soon or we will be right on a lee shore. I think we had better move now.”

Mr Marshall agreed but looked grim as he wrestled with the steering. Capt Proctor moved to the chart table to confirm the course he had already worked out. Andrew watched him work and then asked, “What are we going to do sir?”

“Move over behind Blackwood Island,” Capt Proctor shouted back.

Willy saw that to do so they had to edge out from behind the protection of Bathurst Point and then push forward against the storm until they were under the lee of the island. “Denham Island is closer,” he observed.

“It is,” Capt Proctor agreed, “But to get there we would have to move crabwise across the wind and once there we have these shoals and rocks directly downwind of us.” He then peered closely at Willy. “Are you alright son?”

Willy shook his head. He felt so sick in the stomach that he had to swallow before answering. “No sir. I am scared,” he croaked.

“I think we all are,” Capt Proctor answered. He then moved to stand where he could see the radar screen and pass orders to Mr Marshall. The engine revolutions were slowly increased and the ship began to yaw and pitch ever more alarmingly as it moved out of the shelter of the mountain.

By 0100 the ship was out in the Rattlesnake Channel and was plunging violently. Willy was appalled. The ship pitched so steeply and violently he felt sure it would drive its bow under one of the huge waves that were piling in from Princess Charlotte Bay. ‘We will just go under,' he thought, the anxiety making his heart palpitate and his body tremble. He had often thought about what it might be like to die when an aircraft suffered structural failure during a storm- those seconds or minutes of terror while he knew he was going to die- but he had reconciled himself to that. But the thought of the ship rolling over and of him being trapped and drowned in the darkness, and of his body then rotting and being eaten by fish and things filled him with a horror that almost reduced him to a trembling wreck.

He gripped the fittings near the radar screen and peered through the front windows, wishing it was all over and praying for them to be safe. Suddenly the whole ship dropped and then slammed into a huge wave with such force that Willy was almost driven to his knees. The whole bow section of the ship vanished under white water and Willy felt sure this was it. He saw Capt Proctor fall and strike his head, then claw his way back up.

Just as Willy was sure the ship would never rise she began to come up. But too late to avoid the next hammer blows by another huge wave. There was a horrible, heart-stopping crash and wind and water whistled into the wheelhouse. Willy looked up aghast as icy cold water drenched him. He saw that two of the front windows had been smashed. Wind and spray filled the wheelhouse. Papers, pens and small loose objects flew in all directions.

Mr Marshall wrestled with the wheel as the ship yawed and pitched. Capt Proctor wiped blood off his left temple. The ship gave an awful yaw and then Willy experienced a peculiar sliding sensation. More water poured through the nearest broken window, and swilled back and forth.

Mr Marshall let go of the wheel with one hand to point over his shoulder. “I think we have lost the tow skipper,” he shouted.

Capt Proctor struggled over to the wheel. “You go and look, but make sure you have the bosun with you and have a lifeline on. If the tow has broken then for Christ's sake winch that line in so it doesn't get wrapped around our screw. And get everyone below to put on lifejackets.”

“Aye, aye skipper,” Mr Marshall replied. Capt Proctor took the wheel and yelled at Willy and Andrew, “You two put on your lifejackets too.”

That sent another tremor of terror through Willy. ‘He must think we are going to sink,' he thought. Then the ship was lifted up and dropped with the speed of a crashing plane. ‘Oh my God!' Willy thought as the bow slammed into the next wave with a massive shudder.

The ship struck the wave so hard that Willy was almost thrown off his feet. For a moment he thought they had struck a rock and he felt the fear surge and bile rose in his throat. Then he saw that Capt Proctor has fallen, although he was still hanging on to the steering wheel. The bow lifted and then swung to port.

In a flash Andrew sprang into action. He dashed over to the wheel and grabbed it, then began to heave it round. Carmen came from below and grabbed Capt Proctor and hauled him upright. Capt Proctor was ashen faced and obviously shaken. “The wheel!” he cried. “I must get her under control or we will broach!”

‘Broach!' Willy thought with a stab of terror. He knew that meant turn side on to the waves and that the ship could then capsize and be rolled over. The fear of drowning in such horrible circumstances froze him and made him tremble.

Andrew was wrestling with the steering by then and Willy felt the ship turn and rise to the next wave. Andrew called, “I've got her sir. Give me the bearing please.”

Capt Proctor tried to shake Carmen off and grabbed at the spokes but she helped him to get to his feet and held him against the radar screen. “No sir. Let Andrew do it. You get your balance,” she said.

To Willy's relief Andrew appeared to have the ship under control. Capt Proctor saw this and steadied himself. “Steer three one five,” he croaked.

“Three one five, aye, aye sir,” Andrew repeated.

To Willy's intense relief the ship rode over the next big wave. He could now see through the broken window and in the freeze-frame flash of lightning he had a horrifying glimpse of an apparently endless series of giant waves hurling themselves towards them. ‘How can we ever survive these?' he wondered.

But the ship kept on, pounding and driving into the huge waves. Spray and rain swirled into the wheelhouse, the icy wind chilling Willy. He noted with part of his apparently frozen brain that Andrew had been helped into a lifejacket by Carmen, who then handed him one. With difficulty he slipped it on and did it up.

Andrew seemed much more in control of himself and he managed a sickly grin and yelled, “If we were out in the open ocean we wouldn't have to fight the waves. We could just lie ‘a-hull' and let the ship ride with the storm. But we have to keep facing into them to keep from being driven backwards onto the rocks.”

“What happens if the engines fail?” Willy asked. He had a pretty good idea and Andrew's answer confirmed his worst thoughts.

“Then we get driven to leeward until we hit something,” Andrew replied grimly.

Willy moved so that he could see the radar screen. Shielding his eyes from the rain and spray he squinted at the screen and was relieved that he could clearly see the outline of the mainland and of the islands. Blackwood Island showed clearly dead ahead. Outside it was so dark and so rough that he found it hard to make sense of the glimpses he got. “How did the sailors get on in the old days?” he wondered aloud to Capt Proctor.

Capt Proctor gave a short harsh laugh. “They didn't!” he replied. “Once the wind got up they just hung on and committed their souls to God. That's one reason why the square rigger sailors of old were mostly very religious. You've heard of the ‘Beaufort Scale'?”

Willy nodded. He had even once tried to memorize it. Capt Proctor explained, “Old Admiral Beaufort was a sailing ship man and he only worked his scale out up to sixty knots. Sixty knots is the minimum wind speed for a hurricane or typhoon or whatever you want to call it. His logic was that once the wind got above that then trying to calculate it was irrelevant as no sailing ship could reasonably expect to survive.”

That thought appalled Willy even more. His gloomy thoughts were diverted by the arrival in the wheelhouse by Mr Marshall, the bosun and Graham. All were clad in ‘Souwesters' and oilskins which were dripping water. Lifejackets added to their bulk. They looked cold and shaken and exhausted.

Mr Marshall pointed aft as he clung to the captain's chair. “The tow line had broken Skipper. We got it wound in and secured,” he shouted above the whistling howl of the wind.

“Well done. You look like you need a hot drink. Go and see if Cookie has any,” Capt Proctor yelled back.

“Done that Skipper. We will just rest for a minute, then I will take over on the wheel again,” Mr Marshall replied.

He led the way back down. As Graham turned to go he gave Willy and Carmen a tired grin. He looked blue and shaken but the gesture cheered Willy a tiny bit. ‘If only it would stop!' Willy told himself. The storm had now gone on so long he felt he could not endure it for even one more minute.

A few minutes later there was another shuddering crash as yet another larger than normal wave slammed into the ship. For the next few minutes Andrew and Carmen struggled to hold the ship's head into the wind. Water cascaded into the wheelhouse and flowed knee deep around, chilling Willy even more. Just as the situation seemed to be under control and the ship steady on course again Willy heard Capt Proctor swear. He looked towards him in alarm.

“Damn and blast! The radar has gone out,” Capt Proctor cried. He turned to Willy, “Quick lad, we are approaching Blackwood Island. I must ask you to stick your head out and try to spot the land so we don't run into it.”

Willy was appalled but moved to one of the broken windows and looked out. He could only do this for a few seconds but found the wind so strong that it seemed to peel his eyelids back and stung so much he could hardly see anything. Even when he looked all he could see was blackness flecked with white. Fear began to grip him as the awful realization that they were blind and apparently at the mercy of the storm sank in.

 

 

CHAPTER 37

 

ANXIETY

 

Willy had to fight down a bout of panic and nerve himself to look through the broken window. Shielding his eyes with his hands and squinting between his fingers he peered into the tempest. Again he could see nothing but flecks of white in the blackness. Then a flash of lightning lit up a horrifying sight. Directly ahead he saw the dark bulk of Blackwood Island.

“Island, dead ahead,” he screamed.

“How far?” Capt Proctor shouted.

Willy had to duck into shelter and wipe his eyes before shaking his head. “Not sure. Not too close I think.”

“Keep watch and warn us before we run aground,” Capt Proctor ordered.

Willy did so, looking out every minute or so for a few seconds. Each time he prayed for another lightning flash and it was only by that illumination that he was able to estimate how close they were. But he also noted that the ship was not pitching nearly as violently. For the first time he began to feel some hope.

Graham and Mr Marshall returned to the wheelhouse and joined in as lookouts. By then there was no doubt- they were in the lee of the island and the waves were noticeably smaller. By 0200 Willy felt almost safe. By then they were only a few hundred metres from the island and safely tucked in behind it. But it was an anxious feeling of insecurity.

‘If the engines fail we will drift back across Bathurst Bay and get dashed ashore on the far side,' Willy thought.

Mr Marshall now took charge, ordering both Capt Proctor and Willy to go below to warm up. Willy realized he was shivering violently and that his skin was covered in goose bumps. With an effort Willy allowed himself to be persuaded. He struggled below, clinging on all the way. In the saloon he slumped onto a bench and was immediately wrapped in a blanket by the cook, who then handed him a cup of hot chocolate.

Willy gripped the cup thankfully, allowing it to warm his shaking hands. He did not think he would be able to stay down inside the superstructure without a panic attack but realized he was exhausted, so he sat and shivered.

The bosun came in from checking something on the deck and Julia poked a green and sickly face out of a cabin for a minute. To test himself Willy closed his eyes. It was no good. The constant rocking, rolling and pitching caused him to break into a sweat of fear. He had to open his eyes. To hide his shame he sipped at the warm drink.

He managed to stay there for nearly half an hour before he just knew he had to get up where he could see. The portholes were no use, the steel deadlights had been dropped over them and screwed tight shut. So he put the blanket aside and thanked the cook, then dragged his trembling, tired body back up to the wheelhouse.

As he reached the top of the steps Willy almost turned back. The place was so wet, windy and cold it made him flinch. But a sickening lurch made him go on up. Soundlessly he wedged himself in a corner next to the chart table. He noted that Graham and Mr Marshall now had the wheel and Andrew and Carmen were the lookouts.

At 0400 Carmen moved to the radio but was unable to get it to work. “Water has got into it,” she said. She went below and listened to the weather on a portable radio. When she came back ten minutes later she reported that the eye of the cyclone was now estimated to be only 50km to the south west of them. “It is moving at about fifteen kilometres per hour but the weather people claim it is weakening.”