The White Voyage by John Christopher Read Free Book Online Page A

going to convince each other, you know.’
    ‘If there were time,’ Mouritzen said, ‘I would convince you.’
    ‘I don’t think so.’

Chapter Four
    The
Kreya
followed the winding Arques into the heart of Dieppe, and tied up at an inner wharf soon after two in the afternoon. Meeting Captain Olsen as he came down from the bridge, Jones said:
    ‘Do we stay here long?’
    ‘We sail at midnight. But you cannot go ashore yet. We must wait for the Customs Officer to come.’
    ‘We may not go ashore.’
    Olsen nodded indifferently. ‘Inform the steward if you are staying on board, so that he can make arrangements for dinner tonight.’
    He gave Jones a quick mechanical smile and went on. On the deck, by the forward hatch, Josef Simanyi was setting up a fishing rod. Olsen came up behind and tapped him on the shoulder.
    ‘What are you doing, do you think?’
    Josef glanced over his shoulder. ‘Fishing.’
    ‘Forbidden,’ Olsen said. ‘Three thousand francs’ fine for any who fish within the harbour.’
    ‘Truly?’
    ‘Truly. Give me the rod. If anyone sees you, it is my rod and you are holding it for me.’
    ‘Then you pay the fine.’
    Olsen smiled. ‘No one can fine a captain who casts a line from his own ship. What bait do you have? Liver? From our kitchens. Let us see what we shall catch with it.’
    There was a small floating dock opposite the
Kreya
, holding a battered fishing smack. Olsen cast a line well out in that direction. It struck the oily water, covered with floating refuse, and sank out of sight. A few moments later the float began to jerk as the line was taken down below.
    ‘Ho, there!’ Olsen said. ‘We have it.’
    He began to wind in. A long, threshing shape came into view at the end of the line.
    ‘We have you, Mr Eel,’ Olsen said.
    But as the eel broke water a convulsive jerk freed it from the hook. It sank back into the depths and the line came up uselessly.
    ‘You have bad luck, Captain,’ Josef said.
    ‘Next time we get him,’ Olsen said.
    He re-baited the hook and cast again. Josef looked after the rod with disappointment and longing.
    Stefan came out from the lounge and stood near them.
    He said: ‘She has stopped rolling. At least I will eat something tonight.’
    ‘And tomorrow morning,’ Olsen said, ‘you give it to the fishes. It is of small value.’
    ‘Maybe not,’ Stefan said. ‘After two days, generally I am less sick.’
    ‘Tomorrow,’ Olsen told him, ‘you will be sick. The weather forecast is for storms. The
Kreya
will roll like a porpoise, all the way from here to Amsterdam.’
    ‘That is a joke?’ Stefan suggested uneasily.
    ‘Ask Mr Mouritzen if you do not believe me.’ Mouritzen was approaching them from the direction of the forecastle. ‘Is it not so, Niels?’
    ‘He has taken your rod, has he?’ Mouritzen asked Josef. ‘Yes, the forecast is bad, but forecasts are not always accurate. On the outward trip we were promised good weather, and we had storms all the way to Dublin.’
    ‘My appetite has gone,’ Stefan said, ‘before I could regain it.’
    Mouritzen grinned and went on. He called back over his shoulder:
    ‘Give him back his rod, Captain. You will catch nothing.’
    ‘I will catch something,’ Olsen said. ‘If I must stand here until we sail, I will have something.’
    ‘Shall I hold the rod for a time?’ Josef asked.
    ‘I will give it back to you with a fish on the end,’ Olsen said. ‘That is a promise, and where I promise, I perform.’
    Josef gazed disconsolately at the sluggish dirty water. Mrs Simanyi and Nadya came out to join them.
    ‘Now we have docked,’ Nadya said, ‘can Katerina be exercised?’
    Olsen shook his head. ‘Not yet.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘They begin to unload the horses very soon. She must wait until that has been done. It will not take long. One hour here, two hours in Dublin, three in Amsterdam. The Hollanders are frightened of horses.’
    ‘And the fish are frightened of you?’ Nadya