Net Overboard 



thing to do with the privacy of the place. Wind and salt water 

 are very uncompanionable companions, a good deal less friendly 

 than even the Goldfish. Perhaps it was just that the height gave 

 him a sense of power over the elements. Or, more likely still, it 

 was simply that he was standing almost directly above the centre 

 of gravity of the ship and was therefore, in spite of appearances, 

 moving through a lesser and more regular arc than he had been on 

 the deck. But the wind was now on the starboard quarter and be- 

 ginning to come through the empty window frame of the wheel- 

 house. It was becoming cold, as cold as hell. Luckily his hour 

 was up and he could hand over to the shivering ex-colonel who 

 was wearing a greatcoat beneath his oilskin. He went down to the 

 shelter of the port side and back to the galley for tea again and the 

 comfort of a huge coal fire. 



The heat of it almost expelled him. It palpably pushed against 

 him. There seemed to be nothing but fire, black fire, an immense 

 kitchen range. And indeed, on second thoughts, there wasn't 

 much else, only a tiled footpath in front of it and four walls, one of 

 which, the one that faced the stern, was taken up almost entirely by 

 the space for the door. Three men cluttered the footpath, one of 

 them sitting on a tiny sink that looked as though it were made of 

 lead. Surely it would soon melt away beneath him. Since they 

 were not going to be at sea for even a full day there was naturally 

 no cook aboard. But the Caroon had been working for close on 

 fifty years and she must have seen many cooks. Jan pitied them. 

 No, no, they could not have been cooks. Only jugglers could 

 have worked in such a place. The floor, what there was of it, 

 swished back and forth carrying a mess of coffee grains. The ex- 

 schoolmaster couldn't drink tea. There was little chance of his 

 being able to drink coffee either so long as he stayed aboard. It 

 would all end up on the galley floor if he tried to make it himself. 

 And Jan had sympathy even for him. 



The kettle load of tea was almost new and untouched. Nor- 

 mally it would have been easy to pour, but now the sea roared up, 

 or it slid away from under Jan's cup and the scalding brown brew 



37 



