The rocks were slippery and he kept stumbling. From the summit he could see the Blenda, riding at anchor in the distance. He had his telescope with him and aimed it at the ship. Watching people and things through a telescope always gave him a feeling of power.
Lieutenant Jakobsson was standing by the rail, peeing out over the water. He was holding his penis in his deformed hand.
Tobiasson-Svartman put the telescope down. What he had seen disgusted him. He took a deep breath.
From now on he would feel repugnance towards Jakobsson. Every time they sat down at table together he would have to fight back the image of the man peeing through the rail, using his deformed hand.
He wondered what would happen if he wrote in the letter to his wife: 'This morning I surprised the ship's master with his trousers down.'
He sat down in a rocky hollow where the ground was dry and closed his eyes. After a few seconds he had conjured up the smell of his wife. It was so strong that when he opened his eyes he half expected to see her there on the skerry, standing close to him.
Shortly afterwards he climbed down to the tender and rowed back to the gunboat.
That same afternoon they progressed as far as Halsskär and began a methodical search for a sufficiently deep channel along the west side of the skerry.
CHAPTER 32
It took them seven days of hard, relentless work to confirm that it was possible to route the navigable channel on the west side of Halsskär. All the ships in the Swedish Navy, apart from the largest of the battleships, would be able to pass with a satisfactory safety margin.
At dinner, consisting of poached cod with potatoes and egg sauce, he told Lieutenant Jakobsson what they had established. He was not absolutely certain that he was allowed to pass on such details, but on the other hand it seemed odd not to be able to speak openly with a man who could observe what was going on with his own eyes.
'I'm impressed,' said Jakobsson. 'But I have a question: Did you know in advance?'
'Know what?'
'That it was deep just there? That it was deep enough for the big naval vessels?'
'Hydrographic surveyors who guess their way forward are seldom successful. The only thing I know for sure is that it's impossible to predict what is hidden under the surface of the sea. We can pull up mud and fish and rotten seaweed from the sea, but we can also bring up some significant surprises.'
'It must be a remarkable feeling, to look at a sea chart and tell yourself that you were responsible for its accuracy.'
The conversation was interrupted by Jakobsson's second in command, Fredén, appearing to announce that the Svea had been sighted, heading northwards.
Tobiasson-Svartman quickly finished his meal and hurried to write up the latest of his data. He checked through the notes briefly, then signed the record book.
Before leaving his cabin he wrote another short letter to his wife.
The destroyer towered over the Blenda. As it was almost perfectly calm, a gangplank was laid out to act as a bridge between the two vessels.
Captain Rake had a bad cold. He asked no questions, merely accepted the record book and passed it on to one of the cryptographers. Then he offered Tobiasson-Svartman a brandy.
'Bosun Rudin?' Tobiasson-Svartman asked. 'How is he?'
'I'm afraid he died during the operation,' Rake said. 'It's very sad. He was a good bosun. Besides, with his death my personal statistics look less good.'
Tobiasson-Svartman suddenly felt sick. He hadn't expected Rudin to be dead, and for a moment he lost his self-possession.
Rake was watching him intently. He had noticed the reaction.
'Are you not well?'
'I'm fine, thank you. It's just that my stomach has been a bit upset these last few days.'
Neither of them spoke. The shadow of Bosun Rudin passed through the cabin.
They took another glass of brandy before Tobiasson-Svartman left.
CHAPTER 33
On 31 October, early in the afternoon, the central east coast of Sweden was struck by a storm
Lieutenant Jakobsson was standing by the rail, peeing out over the water. He was holding his penis in his deformed hand.
Tobiasson-Svartman put the telescope down. What he had seen disgusted him. He took a deep breath.
From now on he would feel repugnance towards Jakobsson. Every time they sat down at table together he would have to fight back the image of the man peeing through the rail, using his deformed hand.
He wondered what would happen if he wrote in the letter to his wife: 'This morning I surprised the ship's master with his trousers down.'
He sat down in a rocky hollow where the ground was dry and closed his eyes. After a few seconds he had conjured up the smell of his wife. It was so strong that when he opened his eyes he half expected to see her there on the skerry, standing close to him.
Shortly afterwards he climbed down to the tender and rowed back to the gunboat.
That same afternoon they progressed as far as Halsskär and began a methodical search for a sufficiently deep channel along the west side of the skerry.
CHAPTER 32
It took them seven days of hard, relentless work to confirm that it was possible to route the navigable channel on the west side of Halsskär. All the ships in the Swedish Navy, apart from the largest of the battleships, would be able to pass with a satisfactory safety margin.
At dinner, consisting of poached cod with potatoes and egg sauce, he told Lieutenant Jakobsson what they had established. He was not absolutely certain that he was allowed to pass on such details, but on the other hand it seemed odd not to be able to speak openly with a man who could observe what was going on with his own eyes.
'I'm impressed,' said Jakobsson. 'But I have a question: Did you know in advance?'
'Know what?'
'That it was deep just there? That it was deep enough for the big naval vessels?'
'Hydrographic surveyors who guess their way forward are seldom successful. The only thing I know for sure is that it's impossible to predict what is hidden under the surface of the sea. We can pull up mud and fish and rotten seaweed from the sea, but we can also bring up some significant surprises.'
'It must be a remarkable feeling, to look at a sea chart and tell yourself that you were responsible for its accuracy.'
The conversation was interrupted by Jakobsson's second in command, Fredén, appearing to announce that the Svea had been sighted, heading northwards.
Tobiasson-Svartman quickly finished his meal and hurried to write up the latest of his data. He checked through the notes briefly, then signed the record book.
Before leaving his cabin he wrote another short letter to his wife.
The destroyer towered over the Blenda. As it was almost perfectly calm, a gangplank was laid out to act as a bridge between the two vessels.
Captain Rake had a bad cold. He asked no questions, merely accepted the record book and passed it on to one of the cryptographers. Then he offered Tobiasson-Svartman a brandy.
'Bosun Rudin?' Tobiasson-Svartman asked. 'How is he?'
'I'm afraid he died during the operation,' Rake said. 'It's very sad. He was a good bosun. Besides, with his death my personal statistics look less good.'
Tobiasson-Svartman suddenly felt sick. He hadn't expected Rudin to be dead, and for a moment he lost his self-possession.
Rake was watching him intently. He had noticed the reaction.
'Are you not well?'
'I'm fine, thank you. It's just that my stomach has been a bit upset these last few days.'
Neither of them spoke. The shadow of Bosun Rudin passed through the cabin.
They took another glass of brandy before Tobiasson-Svartman left.
CHAPTER 33
On 31 October, early in the afternoon, the central east coast of Sweden was struck by a storm
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