“Then if he leaves now it’ll be over a week before he gets here.”
Campbell put down his empty glass with a click. “Then we’ve got to get
going as soon as we can,” he said.
I saw Geordie coming into the foyer and waved to him, and he came to
the table. He was dirty and looked tired, and the half-healed scars on
his face didn’t make him look any better.
He put a little glass pot on the table with a hand stained black with
grease, and said, “We’ve got trouble.” I said, “Sit down and have a
beer.” “What’s the trouble?”Campbell asked.
Geordie sat down and sighed. “I would like a beer,” he admitted.
He unscrewed the top of the jar and showed that it was full of
grease.
He pushed it over to me and said, “Rub some of that between your
fingers and tell me what it feels like.” .-M, I dipped up some of the
grease on my forefinger and rubbed it with my thumb. It wasn’t slick
and smooth as grease should be but seemed gritty. Campbell reached
over and tested it for himself.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded “It came from the main bearings
of the winch motor,” said Geordie. “And the grease in the bearing of
the winch drum is the same – all doctored with carborundum.”
“Christ!”
I said. “If we’d have used the winch the whole damn thing would have
seized up. What put you on to it?
“Partly routine maintenance. But I also thought about what I’d do if I
were Kane ‘ and I wanted to put a stop to Mr Campbell here. I wasn’t
looking for anything definite, mind you, but I thought I’d have a look
at the winch. I never thought I’d find grinding powder mixed with the
bearing grease.” Campbell swore violently, then looked at Paula.
“Sorry,”he mumbled.
“That’s all right. I know those words.” I said, “How long will it
take to fix?” “A week,” said Geordie definitely. “We’ll have to strip
the winch right down, and that’s a big job. But it’s not what I’m
worried about.” ,isn’t it enough?”grumbled Campbell. “What else is on
your mind?” “I’m thinking of things Kane might have done that we
haven’t found yet. I don’t think he got at the engine – but what else
has he done?” I said, “He can’t have done much. He was under
observation all the time.” “He got at the winch,”said Geordie
obstinately.
“Geordie’s right,” said Campbell. “We can’t take anything on trust.
The whole ship must be checked out.” The girls sat silent through this
but I could sense their frustration matched ours. If the intention had
been to foul up our operations it might have succeeded.
But if it was also intended to dishearten us then Kane had read his man
wrongly Campbell of all of us was the most determined to put things
right and carry on.
I drained my glass. “Let’s get to it. I kept the laboratory locked
but I suppose I’d better give that a going over too.
We went back to Esmerelda, rounding up crewmen along, the way, and I
went immediately below to the laboratory. A couple of hours’ work
showed nothing wrong – the spectroscope was in order, and the contents
of all the bottlles seemed to agree with their labels. It was a waste
of time from one point of view, and then again it wasn’t. At least I
knew my lab wasn’t gimmicked.
Ian came down with fuel oil samples from the main tanks.
“Skipper wants these tested,” he said.
“Tested for what?” He grinned. “Anything that shouldn’t be in fuel
oil.” I poured the samples into Petri dishes and burned them.
The sample from the starboard tank left little deposit, but that from
the port tank left a gummy mess on the bottom of the dish.
I went on deck to see Geordie. “The port fuel tank’s been got at,” I
told him. “I think it’s been doctored with sugar.” Geordie swore a
blue streak. “I thought we were using a hell of a lot of sugar – So
that’s where it went. How’s the starboard tank?” “It seems all
right.”
“Kane couldn’t get at the starboard tank without being seen it’s right
by the wheel. The port tank is different. I remember he used to sit
just about there quite often, when he was off watch.” “It wouldn’t be
difficult – a pound of sugar at a time.” “We’ ve been sailing a lot,
too. If we hadn’t we’d have found out sooner – the hard way. But all
the fuel we’ve used has come from the ready use tank in the engine
room, and we just kept topping that up in port.” Campbell came up.
“What are the long faces for?” I told him and he cursed violently.
“We dump it,” I said. “We can’t dump it in harbour – they’d scream
blue murder – so we go to sea and dump it.” “All right,” said
Geordie.
“I’ll fill the header tank from the starboard main tank.
We’ll need some power to be going on with.” “Nothing doing,” said
Campbell. “Kane might have been clever enough to put something else in
there. Fill the header tank with new fuel from the Shell agent
here.”He paused. “It’s going to be difficult. There’s probably a lot
of undissolved sugar lying on the bottom of the tank. When you put in
new fuel you may be just as badly off.” I said, “I can test for sugar
in water. We’ll keep washing out until we’re clean. How are their
water supplies here, Geordie? I’d rather use fresh than salt.” “We’re
lucky. In the dry season they can run short, but I think right now is
okay. We’ll have to pay through the nose, though.”
He thought about the job. “We’ll have to wait until the MP tanks dry
out. Maybe I can rig up a contraption that’ll push hot air into the
tanks – that should speed the dry-out.” “Do that,” said Campbell.
“How long do you think it’ll take us to get ready for sea again?” We
did some figuring and the answer was again not less than a week.
Campbell shrugged. “That’s it, then. But we’ve lost our lead.
We’ll be lucky to get out of here before Ramirez pitches up.” “He may
wait until we go,”I said.
But guessing was futile, and we left it at that.
Next day we went to sea and pumped out both main tanks and refilled
them with water from the fresh water tanks. I checked for sugar and
found an appreciable quantity in the water of the port tank, so we
pumped out again and went back to Nuku’alofa. We filled up with fresh
water again, both in the water and the fuel tanks, much to the surprise
of the suppliers, and then put to sea again.
I still found a little undissolved sugar in the Dort tank, so we did it
all again. By this time I reckoned we ere clean so we put back to port
and Geordie rigged up his hot air contraption to dry out the tanks
before we put in new fuel oil. A couple of days was spent on this and
we used partial crews each time, MEL.
spelling the others to have time ashore. God knows what stories were
put about in the port, but our lads had orders to remain quiet and
ignorant.
While Geordie and one team were checking the winch and its auxiliary
equipment, aided by Campbell, Ian set another group to stripping
Esmerelda. They took down all the rigging, both running and standing,
and inspected everything. They found nothing wrong and we were sure we
were fit for sea when they had finished. But it took time.
No more of Kane’s sabotage came to light. He had carefully selected
the two things which could do us the most damage doctored grease and
sugar in the fuel. If he hadn’t been watched he might have got away
with a lot more, and as it was he’d done more than enough.
A Campbell was Napoleonic about the food stores. “Dump the lot,” he
said.
“We’ve no need to dump the canned stuff,”objected Ian, his thrifty
Scot’s soul aghast.
But Campbell insisted. “Dump the lot. That son of a bitch was too
clever for my liking. I’ve no hankering for cyanide in my stew.”
So on our last run out to sea for testing we dumped the food supplies,
and also recalibrated the echometers against proven and charted
soundings.
They were all right but it was as well to make sure. The local
tradesmen were delighted at our liberal purchase of fresh food stocks,
and no doubt it all added to the gossip concerning the Esmerelda.
Seven days after we had discovered Kane’s sabotage Geordie said, “That
just about does it. We’re ready for sea.” “Let’s hope Kane hasn’t