Trustee From the Toolroom (28 page)

The
Mary Belle
made a quick passage to Papeete, covering the 2,400 nautical miles in twenty-five days. They carried a fair beam trade wind all the way but for one day of slamming about in the light airs of the Doldrums on the Equator. They never made quite enough allowance for leeway and passed within five miles of an island which from the latitude they assumed to be Vostok; they bore up two points and passed close to Flint Island. Thereafter they had no difficulty. They sighted Tahiti with the last of the light one evening, hove to for the night and went to sleep, and sailed into the harbour of Papeete next morning.

They had need of all their sleep, because in Papeete every man's hand was against them. On their non-arrival at Hilo the French officials had been fully informed by Honolulu over the radio of their suspected destination, and there was quite a reception committee waiting for them on the quay. The harbourmaster in his launch directed them where to drop their anchor and took a stern warp to the quay. As soon as the vessel was made fast a gangway was put down on to their stern and the reception committee came on board. There was the harbourmaster, an official in plain clothes from the Bureau de 1'Administration, an official in plain clothes from the Banque d'lndo-Chine, the Port Health Officer, and three gendarmes in uniform armed to the teeth.

There followed the most unpleasant hour that Keith Stewart had ever had to undergo. Jack Donelly could produce no ship's papers at all and no
cornet,
and was told that import duty would be due upon the value of his vessel on entry into French Oceania, probably at thirty per cent; he was also liable to a considerable fine. He had no bill of health. They would therefore be put in quarantine for thirty days and refused permission to land during that time; they would have to pay for the visits of the Port Doctor to inspect them each day, and would be fined for that as well. He had no passport and no visa to visit the islands; that merited another fine. Keith Stewart had a passport, which the police immediately confiscated. He pointed out that no visa was required for France; they said that a visa was required for French Oceania, and he would be fined. They were forced to produce what money and travellers' cheques they had, which the official of the Banque d'lndo-Chine immediately confiscated, giving them a receipt and stating that accounts would be opened to their credit, a first charge on which would be their liabilities to the Administration. After that the ship was searched very comprehensively by the gendarmes, who left everything in confusion. The party then departed, leaving one of the gendarmes as a guard at the head of the gangway. They were given to understand that they would be towed to the quarantine anchorage later in the day.

Jack Donelly was dazed and bewildered by this rude reception. ' I don't see why they want to be so mad about these tiddy little things,' he said. 'We haven' done nothing wrong.'

'I suppose we set about it the wrong way,' said Keith. He thought deeply for a few minutes while putting the nets back into the stern locker from which the gendarmes had dragged them. 'I think the thing to do would be to ask to see the British consul. Your consul, too.'

' I dunno,' said Jack. ' I never had no truck with one o' them. You ask to see yours first, 'n see what happens.'

Keith went to the gangway and spoke to the gendarme. He knew no French and the gendarme knew no English, so they did not get very far. 'British consul,' he said.

The man shook his head. Actually he was trying to convey the information that there was no British consul in Tahiti. Failing to get his message through, he tried again.
' Sous-officier viendra,'
he said.
'Apres le dejuner.
Spik English.'

Keith said,' I
am
speaking English.' He tried to move past the man to find someone on the quay who would interpret, but the gendarme barred his way with his rifle. Keith returned disconsolate to the deck of the
Mary Belle. '
I suppose we've just got to wait here till something happens,' he said.

There was a strong smell of vanilla in the port, and very soon little black iridescent beetles started to descend upon the ship in hundreds; they were everywhere. "They'd be copra beetles,' Jack observed. ' Ma used to tell me about them, when we were little nippers. They can bite.' He shook himself. ' Let's have some chow.'

They went below and cooked a meal upon an even keel for the first time in nearly a month. Jack was depressed and uneasy. 'They couldn't take the
Mary Belle
away, could they?' he asked. 'I haven't got no thirty per cent. That wouldn't be thirty cents, would it? I mean, it's something more ?'

' It means about a third of what the ship's worth,' Keith said. 'But don't worry about that. It's just a try-on. The consuls will put that right for us.' To console and amuse his captain he got out the little petrol generator set and started it with a flick of his thumb; there was still a little petrol left in the bottle. Jack Donelly got down on his hands and knees to watch it running. ' Smallest in the world,' he breathed, entranced. He raised his head. 'Those folks who came on board, the guy from the Banque and the guy from the Governor's office and all - they'd have been mighty interested to see this. Maybe we oughta showed it to them . . .'

They lay moored stern-on to the quay for most of the afternoon while Papeete slept; the sunlight on deck was torrid and they sweated it out upon their berths. At half past three there was a step on deck, and Keith got up. It was the
sous-qfficier,
very smart; he held two folded papers in his hand, and gave one to each of them. '
Citation,'
he said. 'What you say — summons. To the law court, the Judge.

On Monday, at eleven hours in the morning. I will come to fetch you.'

Keith opened the paper, but it was all in French. 'Can I see the British consul ?' he asked.

'There is no British consul in Tahiti,' said the man. 'He comes sometimes from Fiji.'

'Ask about the American consul,' growled Jack.

'There is no American consul,' said the
sous-officier.
He eyed Jack, puzzled. 'You are American?'

'I'm a US citizen,' said the captain truculently. 'You better watch your step.'

Keith said, ' If you're going to take us to court we'll have to have an interpreter. We neither of us speak French.'

The man nodded, not unfriendly. 'There is here an Englishman, Mr Devenish, who was consul many years. I will ask him to come and talk to you.'

'Will there be an interpreter in court?'

'The Judge speaks good English. Perhaps Mr Devenish also, he will come.'

'Will we get fined?'

The
sous-officier
shrugged his shoulders. ' Perhaps.'

'What happens if we haven't enough money for the fine?'

The man smiled. 'You will have to get some. Sell the ship, perhaps. Otherwise, there is the prison.'

He left them with that to think about and walked up into the town. They sat in the cockpit, dejected, waiting for something to happen. 'I don't like all this talk about going to prison,' Keith muttered. He had an idea that a permit from the Governor would be needed before he could visit Marokota Island, and prison didn't seem the best place from which to forward an application.

' I'd rather go to prison than have these Frenchies steal the
Mary Belle,'
said Jack. 'I haven't got no thirty per cent. What they making such a fuss about, anyway? We done nothing wrong.'

'I haven't any money to pay fines,' said Keith. 'But they can't put us in prison. There must be some way out..."

'Aw, that's nothing,' said Jack, comforting him. ' I been in prison. There ain't nothing to it.'

Keith raised his head in curiosity. 'What did you go to prison for?'

'Rape,' said the captain. He struggled to explain himself. ' Gloria didn't make no trouble about it. She'd ha' come with me again. But then her Ma turned nasty and she got a lawyer, 'n he said it was rape, 'n they made Gloria say all kinds of things in court. The Judge asked me why I did it 'n I didn't know what to say except that I just naturally wanted to. So he said it was rape too, 'n give me three months.' He stared out over the rippling, sunlit waters of the harbour. 'It was worth it,' he said simply.

Keith didn't know what to say to that. He grinned, and asked, ' What was it like in prison ?'

'Okay,' said his captain. 'Good chow, 'n not much work. They got the radio in every cell so you can lie and listen to it all the time. Television twice a week, 'n a movie every so^ often. It's okay.' He paused in reminiscent thought. ' Gloria would have liked it fine,' he said.

Towards evening the harbour launch came backhand towed them out from the quay to the quarantine anchorage.

They were sitting disconsolate on deck next morning, awaiting the arrival of the Port Health Officer, hoping to negotiate with him for supplies of water and fresh vegetables, when the
Flying Cloud
sailed in. She came from the north, and she came very quickly, for it was one of Captain Petersen's principles in making a passage that he carried sail all the time but whenever the speed dropped below about ten knots he put on his big diesel to help her along. In consequence he made good more than twice the speed of the
Mary Belle;
he had sailed from Honolulu thirteen days behind them, but arrived in Papeete only a day later.