Living Silver 



back at the warps. 'You've got to watch the angle,' he kept say- 

 ing. *If they come too near they might dick the propellor. If 

 they float too far out then the trawl will turn over. Turn on the 

 wireless, Johnny. We might as well listen to their flickering fore- 

 cast.' 



* Hebrides, Bailey, Rockall, winds westerly strong to gale, per- 

 haps backing south west later in the day and strengthening. . . . 

 Forth, Cromarty, Forties,' 'That's us, Johnny,' 'fresh to strong, 

 perhaps backing to west in the evening.' 'Oh well, I don't sup- 

 pose that will matter much. We'll be in port by then. Eh, 

 Johnny,' and a series of invitational obscenities followed. But it 

 was quite obvious that the skipper was merely licking his chops 

 with the words, savouring them in a solitary enjoyment. He 

 wasn't really trying to say anything. He was certainly not speak- 

 ing to Jan. 'About two points, port' though, that had a different 

 sound. That had something to do with the warps at which he had 

 been glancing. He was biting into these words. They were the 

 bread and butter of his language. And so it went on, Jan making 

 infinitesimal adjustments to the steering gear in response to 

 Goldie's orders, adjustments so small that he couldn't really be- 

 lieve they were having any effect on the ship's motion. But the 

 Goldfish seemed happy, and that was all that mattered for the 

 moment. 



It was high in the wheelhouse, so that the swell was exaggerated 

 and every dip of the stem into a trough seemed certain to be the 

 last. A good grey body of climbing water and spray would build 

 up to weigh it under. There would be a simultaneous pitch to- 

 wards the warps and a thin green ledge of the unbroken sea would 

 sweep beneath them over the port rail. And yet, overlooking 

 these mingling but distinguishable colours, though he felt as though 

 he were living on a fantastic Leaning Tower or had been reduced 

 to one letter on a placard that swayed at the head of a mob of 

 revolutionaries, Jan's brain was slowly clearing, his thoughts 

 coming through the thickness of their vertigo, and his stomach 

 began to settle back to its normal stability. Perhaps it had some- 



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