'Come on, Jack,' Sedeno said wearily. 'That's all bullshit. We both know that it won't be particularly hazardous. Going via the Canary Islands is not a route in which you'll encounter all weathers, as you say.'
Jellicoe stared off to starboard as if searching the dockside for a better argument. 'Well, what about the ship's insurers? What do they have to say about it?'
'We are only responsible for each vessel. Not for the supernumeraries who come aboard them. They have made their own personal insurance arrangements.'
Jellicoe thought for a moment, his long bony jaw quivering as he racked his brain for yet one more objection.
'Batteries,' he said triumphantly. 'Ships' batteries.'
'What about them?'
'Only this: that if they go on board their yachts, where will they get their power? Eh?' A small grin of satisfaction appeared on his lean bearded face. 'Tell me that, if you can? Without running engines their batteries will be flat in no time. And I'd like to see the multi-millionaire who can do without his microwave lobster dinner and the TV to watch while he's stuffing it down his neck.'
Sedeno shrugged.
'Many of them have solar power panels, while others need only run their engines in neutral to charge up their batteries. This can be organized in rotation, so as to minimize any fire risk. No, this is not a problem.'
Jellicoe twitched visibly. 'Next thing you'll be asking me to organize a game of quoits on deck. I'm the master of a cargo ship, not a cruise captain. What am I supposed to do with them? I've enough to do with the running of this ship without the
effort of being nice.'
'Jack, Jack, surely that's not much of an effort,' argued Sedeno.
One of the other two officers who were on the bridge laughed out loud and Jellicoe looked around angrily. Like himself they were dressed in the tropical uniform of the British Merchant Navy -- white shoes, white socks, white shorts, white shirts with epaulettes, and white cap.
'Something amusing you, Two-O?' he asked his second officer.
'No sir.'
'Then get on with your work. I shall of course expect visual bearings for position before we leave port. Not the radar range and bearings. There'll be none of that kind of slackness on this ship, d'you hear?'
'Yes sir.'
'And Three-O? I shall want you to execute a full stowaway search before we sail. On every one of those picnic trays called yachts.'
'There are seventeen of them, sir,' protested the ship's third officer.
'I'm sure I don't have to remind you, Three, that a stowaway search is normal shipping practice on leaving port. I shall want a signature to that effect from every supernumo yacht captain.'
'Someone looking for me?'
The voice belonged to a tall, blonde Amazon of a woman dressed in a pink Ralph Lauren shirt and shorts. Jellicoe wheeled around fiercely. Like cats and alcohol, women were never allowed on Jellicoe's bridge.
She said, 'I'm Rachel Dana, captain of the Jade.'
'Are you indeed?'
Jellicoe caught Sedeno's eye and stretched his face into a smile.
Rachel pointed to the largest yacht, nearest the bridge.
Jellicoe followed the line of her well-muscled, tanned forearm and a long pink fingernail.
'Very handsome,' he allowed.
'Isn't she just? She was built in 1992 to ABS Al and AMS Classification.'
Jellicoe tried to look impressed although he hadn't the faintest idea of what any of this meant.
She said, 'Normally we run with a crew of about ten, but for the purposes of this voyage, we're down to just three.'
'Really? And how do the, urn, how do the men find having a woman as ship's captain?'
'You noticed that, huh?' Rachel shook her head. 'There are no male crew on the Jade. Just us girls. We're an entirely female crew. You might call it the owner's little conceit. Like Charlie's Angels.''
'Outside the pages of Homer, I never heard of such a thing,' Jellicoe said brusquely. 'Well, well.'
'Anyway, I thought I'd better come and introduce myself. And I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying just now. Is there a problem?'
'Jack?' said Sedeno. 'Is there a problem?'
Jellicoe said nothing.
'If you still object to all these supernumeraries, I can always sign the way bills myself,' Sedeno added.
'Did I say I had a problem with them? I was merely doing what any responsible captain would do under the circumstances. I was voicing all the potential safety concerns.'
'Supernumeraries, eh?' said Rachel. 'That's what you call us passengers, right?'
Jellicoe found himself both attracted to and irritated by the woman in pink. Women aboard a merchant ship were always a distraction. Especially when they were good-looking women like this one. He saw that his officers had already noticed the outline of Rachel Dana's nipples on her cotton polo shirt. Not to mention the large and thrusting breasts.
'That's right,' said Sedeno. 'You see, we can't call you passengers because that would mean we'd have to conform to a different set of shipping regulations. We'd have to do things like have a doctor aboard, instead of making do with the ship's carpenter.' He laughed at his own little joke. 'So we call you supernumeraries. Or supernumos, for short.' His grin widened as he smoothly added a compliment. 'It looks like we got the super part right, if you're anything to go by, Captain Dana.'
'Will you be joining us on the voyage?' she asked coolly.
'I'm afraid not. Business here in Fort Lauderdale prevents me.' Sedeno extended a hairy hand and said, 'Felipe Sedeno, ma'am, at your service. I'm the shipping agent. And this is the ship's master, Captain Jellicoe.'
'Pleased to meet you. This is such a fascinating ship you have here, Captain.'
'Is it?' Jellicoe advanced to the window of the bridge, towing Rachel Dana in his wake, and stared gloomily down at the sculpted, almost sensuous flowing shape of the Jade. 'It's not much more than a glorified car ferry. No different from all the other roro freighters that come and go in this port.'
'Ro-ro?'
'Merchant shipping term. Cargo that can be rolled on and rolled off. I suppose we're rather more flo-flo, if you follow me. Anyway, beauty's not our strong suit. We leave that kind of thing to our customers.'
Mistaking Jellicoe's baleful gaze as admiration of her ship, Rachel Dana asked him if he would like to see round the Jade. 'Thank you, but some other time,' he said. 'I have business on deck.' Jellicoe turned to the second officer. 'Where's the chief?'
The second officer pointed outside.
'Supervising the cargo loading,' he said in a where-else-would-he-be? tone.
Jellicoe replaced his cap.
'You have the bridge, Mister Niven. I'll be on deck.'
'Yes sir.'
'I'm afraid you'll find us much less formal on the Jade,' she said.
'Oh, we're not so very formal, you know.' Jellicoe glanced warily in the direction of his two officers as if defying their contradiction.
'Well, I'd better be getting along myself,' announced Captain Dana, and she followed Jellicoe out of the bridge and onto the narrow walkway that led along the twenty-foot-high dock wall that was the Grand Duke's starboard side.
Under the watchful eye of a short, balding officer wearing the same tropical gear as Jellicoe, an assortment of stevedores and yachts' crewmen were drawing an 80-foot luxury sport-fisher toward the stern of the Jade by means of two pairs of headlines that were attached to the sport-fisher's bows.
'Watch that bleedin' bow pulpit,' roared the chief in a broad cockney accent. 'You'll have it through her arse. D'you hear?' He averted his eyes as the pulpit stopped a couple of inches short of the Jade's stern. 'Dozy bugger,' he muttered and then sighed wearily as he saw Jellicoe advancing on him with Captain Dana following on