Andy - Cover

Andy

Copyright© 2018 by Peter H. Salus

Chapter 4

Andy booked into the same hotel near the Domain. In the morning he’d stop at the tailor’s and the saddlery and then wend his way to the office. The Katoomba should be in port; perhaps he could tour her, speak to some of the officers, and begin to get acclimated to “fancy” passengers.

He tried on clothes and minor adjustments were chalked on them, noting he was classed Third Officer, with one gold band and one thin gold band. He’d pick up everything the next day. Eddie told him which berth at Millers Point Katoomba was in, but appeared to be very busy, so he consulted the doorman and walked to the waterfront. The red-and-black stack of the Katoomba was readily visible.

“Permission to come aboard!”

“Come ahead; there ain’t no guard set.”

“Are you an ABS?”

“Nah, just a stoker come to see what the light’s like.”

“Any officers about?”

“Cap’n wuz up’n the bridge ‘while back.”

“Can I go up there?”

“Why not?”

So Andy went to the companionway and again called for permission.

“Come ahead!” came the response. And so he met Captain E.L.D. Moodie-Heddie, who’d conned the Katoomba for the past decade. The Captain was very courteous and polite, but not cordial. He appreciated “Mister Hollister’s interest” but he kept his distance. He told him the Purser would be back around two and the first mate “before dinner.” Andy thanked him and said he’d return after lunch.

The next morning, Andy (and his trappings – old and newly acquired) was installed in a comfortable bunk and he was about to explore the contents of the chartroom. There was a shortwave radio-location device, which he’d need to read up on, as well as two sextants, an ephemeris, and a library of charts. A wallful of the Pacific as far north-east as the Hawaiian Islands, west past the Marianas to Japan and then south past the Philippines to Australia. Then a section on the Philippine Sea, the Java Sea, the Celebes, and east to the Bay of Bengal and the Laccadive Sea, including Formosa and Hong Kong at the top. And finally a set of the Australian coast and charts of the ports, harbours and rivers. As soon as he had the full routing, he’d pull all the charts and lay them out in order.

The first thing he heard in the morning was the beginning of loading coal, a noisy and dirty job. Several papers had been pushed under his door: notices about meals and laundry; injunctions about “coarse” language once there were passengers; injunctions about “appropriate dress” and an “invitation” to a meeting of “all staff and crew” at “15:00 hours, 3 p.m.” in the Main Dining Room. He had no illusions as to the optionality of the “invitation.”

At 2:45, when Andy arrived, the tables and chairs had been cleared to the sides and there was a long table at the end of the room. The Purser, standing at the doorway, had a list. “Mr. Hollister,” he said, “You’re with the officers by the table.”

“Can I help?”

“No, thank you. I’ve done this before.”

Andy walked the room and stood beside the only person he’d met: the chief engineer.

“I suppose you’ve been through this before,” he said.

“Aye, laddie. Aboot a tusand times.” (Were all chief engineers required to be Scots?)

People were entering in a steady stream now. “Lot of folks.”

“Five hunnert passengers means five hunnert crew,” was the response.

The Purser introduced Captain Moodie-Heddie. “He’s the boss. If you see him, he’s working. If he tells you to do something, say ‘yes, sir’ and do it. He’s responsible for everything. But don’t bother him. Captain.”

“Thank you, Purser. I hope I’m not really that cold and forbidding. But remember, we’re all working for the passengers and they’re paying a heap of dosh for the trip and the service that we give them. And they’ll be coming aboard starting at ten tomorrow morning, when we will all be on best behavior. Now, here are the folks you need to know...” And the Captain worked his way from the First Mate to the Engineer and then pointed to me. “This is Mr. Hollister. He’s just served His Majesty on the Albatross for the past half dozen years. Ever run her aground, Mr. Hollister?”

“No, sir.”

“Think you can get us where we want to go and back here safely?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So there you are, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Hollister will tell us where to go, the Engineer and his crew will supply the power, the Cook and his staff will keep us fed, the Mate and his officers will make certain it all works ... and I’m the monkey wearing a hat and the fancy jacket and to keep the audience amused.”

“Three cheers!” cried the Purser. And so they did.

“A fine performance, eh?” the Engineer asked.

“Very impressive. Who’s the lass in white?”

“Nursie. Nominally, ship’s medical officer.”

“Maybe I’ll fall ill.”

“Take a care. She’s only been on the one trip ta Fremantle an’ wasna welcoming tae approaches fra passengers.”

“Ah. Well, I’m a junior officer...”


The next morning, having learned that they would ship with the afternoon tide and that the harbor pilot would come aboard “after three,” Andy stood near the head of the forward gangplank in his dress whites. The Captain nodded to him and the First Mate said “Good morning, Mr. Hollister, you look ready for the tycoons and dowagers.”

“Not that bad, I trust, sir.”

“Not until they hit the food and drink. But you’ll do us proud. If anyone asks anything, do your best to comply or respond.”

“Yes, sir.”

Most of the next three hours Andy stood (or leaned against the rail), tried to smile, and greeted passengers who had been checked off by the Purser on the pier. He aided an over-powdered woman get three hatboxes up onto the deck, but a hand took them to her cabin. Near one, the Mate told him to get some lunch, but to be ready to “assist” the pilot when he came on board. In the dining area, he found a vast spread being ravaged by an ever-increasing horde of locusts and a few fellow-staff sitting at two tables in a corner. One was the nurse. He filled a plate, walked over and asked “May I join you?”

“Of course. You’re the valiant Mr. Hollister, who will fend off tropical storms and keep us safe.”

“I’m at a disadvantage. You’re... ?”

“Sybil Watkins. As you may perceive from my rig and badges, I’m the nurse.”

“My pleasure. And I’m Andy.”

“Have you been on one of the other liners till now?”

“No. I’ve spent most of the past six years in His Majesty’s Navy.”

“Oh! I’m certain the military is easier to accommodate than paying passengers.”

“I’m sure of it. Disobedience in the Forces can lead to hanging, though rarely.”

“Are you serious?”

“Every member of the Navy of every rank is read the Articles of War of 1757 and they prescribe death as the penalty in several cases.”

“Even now, in 1933?”

“Even now. But I must admit I’ve not heard of any executions recently. And historically most have been the result of desertion or violence.” Sybil really looked lovely. She’d flushed through this past exchange. “Now, tell me of the horrors of your office.”

“Well, let’s see. An ABS burnt himself badly in Esperance with his own welding torch. We landed him back in Bunbury, St. Johns, I think. One inebriated passenger broke his left tibia falling down a companionway. I plastered that. And I distributed vast quantities of aspirin and laxatives. Some antacids and a bit of quinine. That’s about it.” She laughed.

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