Chapter 4

 

I was awoken in my hotel room the following morning by the ringing of the telephone. It was Tanya asking after my health. It seems that I passed out and a doctor had been called. He arranged for me to be brought back to the hotel, suggesting that I needed nothing more than a good night’s sleep.

I had a hundred and one questions that I wanted to put to her but could not get my brain to function. She finished by telling me that she would not be flying back with me that afternoon but would catch up with me in London in a couple of days time. It was only after I had put the phone down that I realized that I had not congratulated her on her ‘good’ news.

I caught the afternoon KLM flight to Gatwick and a forty minute drive brought me to my South London flat. I could not face the pile of letters awaiting me on the doormat and so I put them into my desk to join an ever-growing backlog.

I could not put Tanya out of my mind. I ran the gamut of emotions from jealousy, concern, even happiness but above all there was a desperate need to understand how things had come to pass. I was not scheduled to meet with her again for another two days when we were due to do a photo shoot for a new dinghy sailing magazine and so I decided that I must get on with my own life until then.

I accepted a dinner invitation that evening from two old college friends and the following day attended a seminar on Operation Drake, the organization that arranges working holidays for young people on Tall Ships. They were looking for experienced sailors to crew the vessel and do some teaching on a three-month haul down to, and through, the Caribbean. For various reasons I had written off my chances of a berth on the “Bellhawk Challenger” and I began to give serious consideration to submitting an application.

The magazine photo shoot was to take place at St. Katherine’s dock, just a stone’s throw from the Tower of London. I got there in good time, half expecting Tanya not to show; after all her new status as Fullers fiancée suggested that money was no longer going to be a problem. It was a great surprise, therefore, to find that Tanya was already there and looking more radiant than ever. She greeted me with genuine joy and affection and I felt my heart lift. The shoot took place on an old Thames sailing barge which sat like an aging dowager amongst the modern millionaires’ yachts that filled the dock. It was over by lunchtime and, not for the first time, I felt guilty about earning so much money for just two hours’ “work”.

We turned down the photographer’s invitation to lunch and walked until we found a quiet wine bar where we ordered salads and, pushing the boat out, a bottle of Chablis. I could see that Tanya was bursting to tell me something and I hoped for an explanation of her lightening courtship but it was altogether different news that she had to break.

“Can you be in Falmouth tomorrow afternoon?”

“I suppose so. Why do you ask?”

“Martin’s letting us crew the “Bellhawk”. We start training with Jane tomorrow.”

She was as excited as a young schoolgirl but I was still trying to take it in.

“He’s happy about this? It’s a dangerous undertaking.”

“He’s a pussycat. He knows it’s what I want.”

She must have seen from my face that the last thing I thought of him as was a pussycat.

“Look, I know this is a surprise for you, I guess I’m still a bit shell shocked myself, but I’ve never met anyone like Martin before.”

I took hold of her hand across the table.

“Are you sure about this? His attitude to women seems a little …unusual.”

She smiled. “I know what you mean but all the men I’ve dated before have usually been in awe of me and then they get into that whole jealousy thing. Martin’s not like that. Anyway, you must know what I mean, you attract men like a magnet.”

For a brief moment I was going to blurt out the truth and tell her that I had no interest in men but I held myself in check and listened to what she had to say.

“Martin likes to take command and I guess that’s what I like about him.”

“But that party … it was nothing short of sadism.”

She paused for a moment before replying.

“It’s hard to explain. I suppose that it’s the ultimate form of trust. I submit to him and there is an element of pain but the trade-off is the most satisfying orgasms I’ve ever experienced.”

“But he loaned you out, for God’s sake!”

She smiled almost condescendingly.

“How many marriages do you know where the partners remain faithful? At least this way it remains in control and, besides, variety is the spice of life.”

I wanted to tell her that her logic was warped but it seemed like the wrong time to get into an argument; anyway, we could now look forward to long hours at sea together and I could try a more circumspect approach. I did, however, have one major qualm.

“That girl, at the party, do you think she enjoyed it?”

“It’s what she wanted. Why else would she volunteer?”

I suddenly felt very afraid for her. There was no way in the world that the girl had been a volunteer and if Fuller had convinced Tanya otherwise he was an even more dangerous than I had originally thought. I kept my reservations to myself and we parted on good terms.

The following morning my mind was firmly focused on sailing. I packed my bags, locked up the flat, and drove out to the Battersea heliport where Fuller had laid on his own helicopter to get us down to Cornwall. We arrived in good time for lunch and met Jane in the restaurant of the Staging Post Hotel. It was fair to say that she was not altogether happy with the outturn of events but she was pragmatic enough to make the best of it and she presented us with a bound training schedule. It was very comprehensive and covered sea trials, circuit training, diet and even historic meteorological data for the Atlantic.

For the next two weeks she worked us hard and I gained a new respect for her professionalism. We would take the boat out to the most challenging seas around the Lizard Point and then, with the sails set in racing trim, we would carry out time trials on the short stretch out to the Isles of Scilly. I returned home feeling fitter than I had ever done but it was just a two day respite before an even more grueling ten days’ training prior to the start of the race.

If Fuller and the sponsors were looking for publicity value, they reaped massive dividends. The race was to start in Portsmouth and the press was out in force. Given the quality of the entry, our all-female crew drew a disproportionate amount of interest but I hoped that we could give them much more to write about in the weeks to come. A flotilla of recreational craft followed us out and then a single cannon shot from the quayside signaled the start of the race.

The perceived wisdom was to set a southwesterly course and then pick up the natural currents along the line of latitude forty degrees north. It would then be, more or less, a straight dash to the finish in Baltimore; but Jane had other ideas. She wanted to take us further south to pick up the current just off of Biscay. This was a high-risk strategy. It would involve three gruelling days sailing against the prevailing winds. She was pinning her hopes on the boat’s natural speed once we got into the currents but, if we hit bad weather after we changed to a westerly course, we would all be dangerously tired.

For the first twelve hours we remained in sight of other yachts but then the hard work began. Jane began to tack to the wind and for Tanya and myself it was sheer physical labour as we worked the graphite winches and took liberties with the Teflon foils that would have defeated old-fashioned sailcloth. We laboured through the night with two of us working the boat and the third sleeping but we got ahead of the schedule we had set for ourselves. The second day was even more exhausting but we were bonding as a crew and I could see that Jane had a new found respect for both of us. Finally, on day three, we changed course. For the first time we were able to set the automatic rudder and take a much-needed unbroken sleep.

Jane had set a demanding timetable which, weather permitting, would bring us to the finish in fifteen days and so we were overjoyed when, on the fourth day, we checked our position on the satellite system. She calculated that we would intercept the other competitors in third place which was well above our expectations. It was on day five that things started to go wrong. The barometer fell sharply and the meteorological data from the on board computer confirmed that a storm front to the south had turned sharply. Shortly afterwards we received confirmation from the race organizers and we battened down. The storm blew for almost twenty-four hours straight and at its height, we were riding a twenty foot swell. The boat behaved impeccably and Jane performed heroics. She was determined to turn adversity to advantage and commanded the rudder for fourteen hours without a break to take us through one of the filthiest nights of sailing I had ever endured.

The following morning the sun rose on a calm sea. Jane went to her bunk for a much-needed sleep and Tanya and I started the process of drying everything out. By midday, the temperature had risen to twenty degrees centigrade and we both stripped off completely to wash ourselves down and shampoo our hair. We sat naked, either side of the rudder, basking in the sunshine. We had a favourable wind and the boat was almost sailing itself. It was my turn to prepare the meal but I decided to let Jane sleep as long as possible.

I was in heaven. In the middle of the Atlantic on a yacht that, to my mind, was so sexy with its sharp racing lines contrasted by the feminine fulsomeness of its billowing sails and, to cap it all, Tanya, naked by my side. I turned to look at her but she misunderstood my motive. She smiled and put a finger to my lips.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

I was at a loss for an answer but I let my own fingers trace the line of a healing welt that defaced the front of her thigh.

“You had better get dressed before Jane wakes up. This might be hard to explain.”

“I’m not sure I can explain it to myself.”

I moved a little closer to reinforce what I had to say next.

“Tanya, if you love him and this is genuinely what you want, then I won’t try and stop you. I’m not sure I can give you my blessing, nor will I ever understand it, but if any woman knows her own mind, it’s you.”

She leaned forward and gave me a chaste peck on the lips.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

She remained there, inches in front of me, her eyes searching mine and I could not help myself. I kissed her again, tasting the salt on her lips. She moved away, shock registering on her face, and I blustered an apology.

“I’m sorry. I should not have done that.”

She remained still looking deep into my eyes.

“Are you ...?”

“A lesbian? Yes.”

“But …all those men...”

“I enjoy men’s company, I even slept with one or two in the past, but I know it’s not for me.”

“I can’t believe that you didn’t let me know!”

She looked both bemused and betrayed.

“Tanya, I couldn’t let you know, you least of all.”

She took in the import of the words and then spoke quietly.

“You have feelings for me?… But you never … you know …came on to me.”

I smiled, trying to lighten the tension.

“And how would you have reacted?”

She seemed to give this serious thought.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been with a woman. I guess I would have been flattered.”

“But you would have turned me down?”

Her reply caught me unawares and made my heart lurch. She stroked my cheek with the back of her finger.

“I think I would have tried it …just once …and only with you.”

Before I could react she had her lips on mine and I felt the tip of her tongue probing gently. I opened my own mouth and met her half way, our two tongues touching tip to tip. We stayed like that for a few moments, breathing in one another’s breath and then she demanded more. She turned her head slightly, opening her mouth wider and I accepted her invitation. Our tongues played together in her mouth and I almost swooned with the pleasure of it. I wanted it to last forever and when I heard her give a muted groan my body flushed with excitement.

Neither of us had used our hands and I sensed her nervousness. I put my hand behind her head and then slipped around so that the rudder was no longer between us. I kissed her again and put my other arm around her waist, drawing us together. Her mouth now sought mine with a genuine hunger and we meshed with the desperation of young teenagers. Her hands went around my back but she was still unsure and so I continued to take the lead. I drew her head into my shoulder and began to nuzzle her ears and neck.

“Ooohhhhh yessss!”

Her voice was husky and I was fired with lust. I kissed down over her shoulders and then moved on to the upper plane of her breast. How often I had dreamt of that moment, waking in a rumpled sweaty bed with my tired hand buried between my legs. She twined he fingers behind my head, drawing me on to her engorged nipple, and I sucked it in and worked it with my tongue. I sought out her other nipple with my fingers and stroked it gently, reading every tiny dimple as though it were a love letter written in Braille.

I remained that way for long minutes, her mewling giving me encouragement, but then I began to kiss downwards towards her navel, only for her to take my face in her hands. She looked at me in concern.

“I don’t know if I can…you know …go down on you.”

In truth I felt a sharp pang of disappointment but I was determined to show her that only a woman could reveal to her the true secrets of her body. Now I was kneeling between her legs and my tongue wormed its way into the deep pit of her navel before venturing further south to the true taste of paradise. She splayed her legs widely and I teased her inner thighs with my lips before licking along the crease where her leg gave on to her pudendum. She was particularly sensitive to this and I could smell her growing arousal. I moved back a little so that I could contemplate the shrine that I had lusted after for so long. Her labia were the palest pink and stood out from a neatly trimmed frizz of pubic hair. I could wait no longer. With a deep groan I dropped my head and ran my tongue between them. They parted easily and I was greeted with a flood of moisture which I lapped up eagerly running my tongue almost down to the tight rosette of her anus to gather it all.

Her eyes were closed and her head was shaking as her excitement mounted and I used my thumbs to part her. Her coy clitoris was revealed still cloaked in its fleshy hood but a knowing caress with the tip of my tongue was sufficient to coax it out into the open. I started to lick along her inner lips up to, but not over her clitoris, and this took her to new heights. She was panting with lust but I continued to tease until, finally, she took hold of my head in both hands and pulled me into her.

“Suck me!”

I took her clitoris gently between my lips and sucked it onto my tongue. A few strokes were sufficient to take her over the edge and then it was hard to stay in contact as her body thrashed with the intensity of the sensations. I continued to lick and suck as she came down from the summit, savouring her taste, and than I began to think about doing something for myself. I shook my hair out of my face and made to rise but she pushed me back down.

“Stay there! I want you to do me again.”

I was just framing some unkind thoughts when there was a sickening lurch. The yacht reared up in the water and I was thrown to the deck. I looked over the side to find that we were riding over what appeared to be a metal raft pitted with a random pattern of holes. Jane appeared at the hatchway. She took half a second to take in our nakedness and then shouted.

“Deploy the life raft!”

I did it without having to think. I flicked the retaining latch and armed the gas canister. The yacht pitched and the life raft slid over the side where it immediately began to deploy. I turned to find that Jane had gone back down into the cockpit which was quickly filling with water.

“The beacon’s on! The radar is showing a ship about two miles north.”

My nautical instincts kicked in.

“North? That’s not in the sea lanes.”

She rechecked the screen.

“It’s north! Get into the dinghy!”

At that moment the yacht heeled over and failed to recover. The tall sails dipped into the waves and I was thrown into the sea. The sudden cold was a shock to the system but I swum the few feet to the dinghy and hauled myself in. Tanya followed me and there were a panicked few seconds before Jane appeared. We sat in the pitching dinghy and gathered our wits. Looking at the yacht we could see that both rudders and a large part of the keel had been ripped away. Tanya asked the obvious question.

“Is she finished?”

Jane replied.

“The buoyancy tanks are okay. She’ll stay afloat until she can be recovered.”

“And us?”

“The distress beacon’s on and there’s a ship somewhere over there.”

We all looked in the direction she was pointing and, sure enough, there was something on the horizon.

“Tanya, let off a distress flare.”

Tanya fired the pistol and the flare arced into the air. A few minutes later we could see the ship drawing closer and whilst we waited I tried to describe to the others what I had seen. The ship was an old tramper with a couple of containers on deck but it was Jane who picked out what was odd about it.

“It’s a ship without a name.”

The ship drew alongside and six smiling Mediterranean faces appeared at the ship’s rail. A rope ladder was cast down and Jane shouted out for some blankets but the crew appeared not to understand. As a result Tanya and I had to make our way up to the deck totally naked and Jane, who had been sleeping in a tee shirt and shorts, was not much better off.

The crew cheered as we came up over the rail but made no attempt to help us conceal our modesty. Jane looked around her.

“Where is the Captain?”

The tallest of the six men stepped forward. He was dark and swarthy with a couple of days growth of beard. He wore a dirty tee shirt stretched over his muscular torso and a pair of oil stained jeans. He looked about thirty but might have been older.

“Captain. We need some clothes and we need to make an emergency radio call.”

He smiled but otherwise made no acknowledgement other than to nod his head to one of his colleagues. Jane, thankful that she appeared to have got her message across smiled in return but her face fell when the crewman produced, from behind his back, an ancient looking machine gun. He leaned over the side and fired into the dinghy and then, for good measure, he shot away the yacht’s radio mast.

Tanya screamed and I put an arm around her. Jane took a second or two and then exploded.

“What the hell are you doing!”

The Captain nodded again and two of the crew stepped forward and pinioned Jane’s arms.

“Leave me alone!”

The Captain made a twirling motion with his finger and a small deck crane thundered into life. A heavy chain rattled and a hook was lowered to the deck. Jane began to scream but the two crewmen fought her to the floor. They produced a length of timber with holes drilled at both ends and, despite Jane’s frantic struggles, they forced the wood between her ankles and tied it in place using ropes threaded through the holes. Her legs were spread a metre apart and they now tied a longer rope to both ankles. Once it was secure they lifted the loop over the hook and Jane gave a dreadful scream as she was hauled up into the air.

The crane stopped was she was hanging upside down a foot above the filthy metal decking.

Tanya was shaking with terror and I tried to comfort her but I could not rid myself of the thought that the length of wood had been all too convenient and I began to wonder how many times they had done this before. This opinion was reinforced when, without a word, another crewman stripped off his shirt. He was a squat brute of a man with a body bearing a variety of scars. He had huge, well-muscled arms, almost completely covered in tattoos and when he moved he appeared almost simian. He took up a duffel bag and I gasped when he produced a cat o’nine tails. Somewhere from the depths of my fevered mind I dredged up the fact that Portuguese vessels still sailed with a cat o’nine tails as a good luck charm and I wondered if this gave some clue to the vessel’s nationality.

Jane caught sight of it from her inverted position and became frantic. She screamed and shouted but the crew found this highly amusing. The squat man walked behind her, running the lashes of the whip through his hand as he went. Tanya whimpered and sank to the deck and I knelt with her offering such reassurance as I could.

The squat man took a deep breath and shook out the lashes. He turned his body, turning his muscle bound neck in the process and cast his eyes towards the Captain who took out a packet of cigarettes and, with calculated deliberation, lit one. He took a long puff, exhaled the smoke towards the sky and then nodded once again. There was a whoosh as the squat man pulled the whip through the air and then

a thrashing sound as all nine lashes broke across Jane’s back. She screamed and the tee shirt she was wearing, which was already hanging half free, fell over her arms and on to the deck. There were mutterings of approval from the crew as her breasts were revealed but the squat man was already drawing his arm back again.

This time he did not wait for approval. He struck again, hard and quickly, aiming for Jane’s ample buttocks. She howled out the word “No!” but the third stroke was already on its way. This one too fell across her buttocks with a dull whap but he clearly felt that her thin cotton shorts were affording her too much protection. He stepped forward and, taking hold of the legs, one in each hand, he ripped them from her body. This time the crew roared. Jane did not make any concessions to a bikini line and, when her dark thicket of pubic hair was revealed, they made a number of lewd comments in their own language. The Captain laughed along with them but, in mid-stream, he nodded again and the whip fell for a fourth time. Jane’s yell, as the lashes bit into her bare buttocks, was heart rending but some instinct deep inside me hoped that they would assuage their sadistic impulses on her and perhaps spare Tanya and I.

The thought was barely formed before the Captain clicked his fingers and two crewmen took Tanya by the arms. She screamed and clung to me but they dragged her away and I knew there was to be no mercy. They dragged her in front of the Captain and forced her to her knees. He said something to her in a language that neither she nor I understood but he illustrated his point more graphically by unfastening his jeans and revealing an impressive erection. One of the crewmen took a hank of her hair and forced her face forwards towards the bulbous head. She tried to turn her head and resist and, surprisingly, he let her go. She was now facing towards Jane just in time to see another brutal stroke being delivered. Jane screamed and then Tanya’s head was forced back to where the Captain held his erection in anticipation. Tanya shook her head as best she could and pressed her mouth closed. The Captain appeared unfazed. Tanya’s head was forced back to the right and once again Jane suffered as the whip took her across the top of the shoulders.

Now the message was clear; certainly it was to Jane. Through a mask of tears she shouted.

“Tanya! For God’s sake!”

The Captain laughed as he used his erection to raise her chin and she broke down.

“I’m sorry … I can’t … I’m so sorry.”

This time the Captain himself forced her head round as the hardest stroke so far smashed into Jane’s buttocks. Tanya brought her hands up to her ears as Jane bellowed.

“Pleaaaaase!”

Tanya’s shoulders heaved with sobs but the Captain was unmoved. He batted her hands away and she looked up to see that the squat man was holding the cat up over his head and he had changed his position so that he was ready to bring it straight down across Jane’s crudely exposed sex. Jane saw the threat and dragged up the final vestiges of her composure.

“Tanya … for pity’s sake …you have to do it!’”

“I’m so sorry …forgive me …”

Her head dropped as Jane’s blood curdling scream cut through the air and then she fell forward onto the deck. A bucket of water was produced and was tossed over her unceremoniously and she slowly began to stir. She looked across and her worse fears were well founded. Jane was sobbing and muttering incoherently and the squat man had the cat ready to strike at her sex a second time. Even from where I knelt I could see the red welts raised on her belly by the first stroke and I could only dimly imagine the pain she was suffering.

The Captain was growing impatient and slapped Tanya across the face to gain her attention. For a second or two I could see her fighting spirit return but when the Captain spoke to the crewmen and a second length of timber was produced she cried out piteously.

“NNNOOoooo!”

For my own part I thought that I was to be the next victim, strung up and whipped whilst Tanya’s resolve was tested, but the crewman moved behind Tanya and spread her ankles apart. She shrieked and kicked out and the Captain offered up his erection one last time. She knew there was no choice and she put her hand out to his erection as though reaching for hot coals. She took hold of it timidly, as he relinquished it and brought it to her face. She opened her mouth slowly and allowed the head between her lips but the Captain wanted a more forthright approach. He took hold of her head in both hands and, cheered on by the crew, he began to jerk his hips.

Tanya had no option other than to accept her fate and she knelt limply as he used her as a receptacle. He worked mechanically, without feeling, but as he reached the point of no return he pulled himself free and began to hose Tanya’s face with his emissions. She stayed still with her eyes closed until he was finished and the crew gave another cheer as he stepped away to reveal the pearly beads coating her skin as if they were a mark of his virility.

As he readjusted his clothing he looked at me and beckoned me with his finger. I suddenly felt very weak. I knew my turn must come but I had held out the faint hope that they might be sated. I got to my feet and went to him as he pointed at the deck next to Tanya. I knelt down next to her and could see that she was still shivering with fear. It took a huge effort of will to look up into the Captain’s face and, as I did, he put out his tongue and made a licking gesture. For a second or two I misunderstood what he wanted of me but he made it clear by putting his finger to Tanya’s face. He ran it through the mess on her cheek and then put it to my lips.

I felt my gorge rising but I knew that if I did not keep control the consequences might be lethal. I prayed that, as there were three of us, they would not take all their pleasures at once and that an opportunity might arise to free ourselves. I closed my eyes and, moving closer to Tanya, I put out my tongue and licked her lips gently. She gave a start and I opened my eyes and found myself staring into hers. In that split second a thousand unspoken words passed between us and, as I continued to clean her face with my tongue, I found new strength.

The crew roared with approval but for a blissful moment my mind was on another plane until a new scream from Jane rent the air. The smallest member of the crew, who also looked to be the oldest, was kneeling in front of her and had his head buried in her sex. The noise was like a pig at the trough and he was trying to feed his miserably small erection into her mouth at the same time.

The Captain joined in with the laughter and walked over to where the ship’s lifeboat was being held inboard by two mooring lines secured with belaying pins. He pulled one of the pins from its board and I had a sickening premonition. The pin, about a foot long, was made from bronze and had a rounded head. It was designed to be pulled out quickly so that the line that it retained could be released without delay and I could see that this one was well greased. It had a wooden handle which, in years gone by, had made such pins popular as coshs particularly amongst press gangs.

He approached Jane from behind so that she would have no premonition of her fate. The old man made to move away but the Captain smiled at him and so reapplied himself. Jane was steadfastly refusing to take him into her mouth but he did not appear to be put out. He had taken himself in hand and was rubbing himself vigorously.

The Captain held the rounded head of the pin just above her rudely exposed anus and then, without further preamble, he used both hands to drive it home. Jane screamed and jerked so violently that the old man was knocked backwards provoking fresh gales of laughter. I thought that Jane had passed out but she shook her head and began to plead. The Captain turned to the rest of the crew and pantomimed removing the pin but they shouted him down. Instead, he put his hand into his pocket and fished out an old fashioned cigarette lighter. He flicked the lid open and there was a smell of petrol as he stroked the flint wheel to ignite it.

Jane became frantic and with good reason. The belaying pin was crafted such that the brass rod passed right through the wooden handle and was then hammered to form a decorative ferrule. The captain applied the flame to the ferrule and it was only seconds before the heat was transmitted along the whole length of the rod. Jane screamed and fought against her restraints like a furie but two crewmen quickly came forward to kneel and pinion her arms.

I could no longer look and, as I turned away, Tanya was violently sick. Oddly, given everything else that had gone on, this seemed to anger the crew and after a heated exchange with the Captain two of them came and sluiced down Tanya and the deck with buckets of seawater. We were then forced to our feet and escorted belowdecks with Jane’s renewed screams ringing in our ears.

We were taken down to the engine room level and slung into a bare room which was both hot and thunderously noisy. In the corner was another woman, middle-aged, a little dumpy, with Mediterranean features. She was naked and her body bore marks of recent abuse. She spoke in heavily accented English.

“Who are you?”

“We’re sailors. Our boat was wrecked after the storm. And you?”

“I’m the Captain’s wife.”

She saw the look on my face and corrected my misunderstanding.

“Not him. My husband was the real Captain. This is a Portuguese vessel, the “Rosa”, The company allows wives of Captains and First Officers to live on board for longer voyages.”

“You said “was”.”

“Our relief crew in Rotterdam did not show up. My husband had to recruit these men in a hurry. They took over the ship two days ago. They painted out the ship’s name and they locked my husband and the other officers in a deck container …”

She paused and gave a quiet sob.

“… they did not secure the containers properly for the storm …one fell overboard.”

She had no need to say that it was the one that had been used as a cell.

“… they could not get it back on board and so they tried to sink it with guns …”

She broke down and it suddenly came home to me what we had struck. The container did not sink. It just stayed low in the water until we were unfortunate enough to run into it. The same thought occurred to Tanya.

“Oh my God! Why didn’t they lock them down here?”

My father was an engineer in the merchant marine and I could guess the answer to that.

“There aren’t many places that you can secure someone on a ship where they are out of mischief.”

Tanya banged at the locked door in frustration.

“It seems secure enough to me.”

“Perhaps …help me with this deck plate.”

It took three of us to lift the snug fitting steel panel and underneath, as I had hoped, we found a large trough. It appeared to run through the ship and had a steel lid with inspection hatches at regular intervals large enough to allow a man to crawl through. I unfastened the wing nuts on the closest hatch and then lifted it. Inside it looked completely black but the throbbing of the engine in the next room shimmered the surface of a lake of oil. Tanya looked over my shoulder.

“We can’t get in there!”

I got up and went to the wall.

“Not yet we can’t.”

I unwound the high-pressure fire hose and, as I did so, it started to gush seawater. I plunged the hose into the trough and watched as the oil began to bubble violently.

“This is the engine sump. The chief engineer has to check the spaces for stowaways before each voyage.”

“So what happens now?”

“In a few minutes the engines will fill with seawater and begin to seize. Hopefully that will bring our friends down here.”

“And what good will that do us?”

“Wait and see.”

The trough was now full of seawater and, despite Tanya’s protestations, I lowered myself into in. I took a breath and plunged under the surface. A couple of strokes were sufficient to bring me into the engine spaces and the vertical overflow shaft. I entered the shaft and climbed the half a dozen rungs back into the open. Seawater was seeping out of the shaft and starting to pool on the engine room floor. It was probably the bravest and most foolhardy thing I had ever done but I could not conceive of the desperation that would drive a stowaway to try the same thing when the trough was filled with oil.

I was gambling that the entertainment being provided on deck would be drawing the attention of every man on board and, sure enough, the engine room was empty. I went out into the passageway and released the other two and only the look on Tanya’s face made me think about the condition I was in. My body was covered in thick gobbets of oil which was also dripping out of my hair.

I led the way back up to the deck and, just as we got into the open air, all hell broke loose. A klaxon began to sound and suddenly the whole crew was running for the companionways. The only man left on deck was the oldest and his leering expression suggested that he was not going to waste the heaven-sent opportunity to be alone with Jane.

He turned towards her but this seemed to give Tanya a new sense of purpose. She broke from cover and threw herself on his back. I ran to help but she seemed to having the better of it and she shouted at me.

“Get Jane!”

Jane was unconscious and it took all my strength to lift her free of the hook. I lowered her onto the deck and then ran to help the Captain’s wife who already had the lifeboat swung outboard. We winched the boat down a few feet so that it was level with the deck and the two of us manhandled Jane and dumped her unceremoniously into the bottom. We climbed in after her and manned the winches.

“Tanya! Now!”

Tanya got up off of the prostrate crewman and turned towards us but he grabbed her ankle and she fell to the deck. At the same instant the Captain’s wife shouted and I turned to see other members of the crew re-emerging on deck. For a split second I was in a blind panic but the Captain’s wife had seen enough. She hit the emergency release and the lifeboat plunged fifteen feet into the sea.