The director had called me up and said: "Well done, Mandzhura! Go on plugging away at things, as you are now. It's a good thing to work hard and fulfil your target, but use your brains as well. Let your imagination go!.. . You won't object if we put an engineer with you on the job for a week or so, will you? Not to make him a co-designer, of course, but to get your idea into proper technical shape." Naturally I agreed willingly.
Soon a placard appeared over the works gate: "Young Workers! Follow the example of the young foundry men. Vasily Mandzhura's rationalization proposal will save the plant 660 working hours per day. His proposal to get rid of the heaters and introduce a central heating system will also protect workers from catching cold and other illnesses!"
This placard, so I heard later, had been drawn on Golovatsky's advice by the same artists from the metalworkers' club who had caricatured the frequenters of Rogale-Piontkovskaya's dancing-saloon.
Rudenko thanked me publicly on behalf of the whole works and awarded me a prize of 500 rubles.
We were no longer in danger of having to make do with "tropical furniture." That night, while I chatted with Yuzik, my friends were sleeping at home on proper comfortable beds, with spring mattresses. And there was a bed in the attic for me, too, covered with a green woolly blanket.
With this unexpected windfall we subscribed to Home University for Workers, as well as to several magazines and a daily newspaper.
Following Golovatsky's advice I bought myself an excellent brown tweed suit and a good pair of shoes at the co-operative store.
And even then II still had ninety-five rubles left over. This I put away in the savings bank. I told none of my friends what I needed the savings for. That was a secret. I had decided to save the money in case Angelika needed it when she was in Leningrad. Whether asked for my help or not, I considered it my duty to assist her at the start of her independent life.
"Well, now I understand why you've been made a delegate to the conference!" Yuzik said, when I had told my story. "And what are your plans for the future?"
"Everything's decided, Yuzik!" I answered proudly. "All three of us are going to study at the workers' university. Work in the day-time, study in the evening. The winter will pass in no time... Where will you
be this winter, when the sea freezes?"
"On the Black Sea. Odessa-Sukhumi line. Or perhaps I'll get a job on an ice-breaker, helping the Azov Sea fishermen."
"Ice-breakers are little ships, aren't they?"
"Yes, not very big. Sailors laugh at them. 'Old tin cans!' they call them. But I don't mind. While you're young you can learn navigation even on coasting vessels. And soon, you know, we'll be having ocean-going ships here. That'll mean long voyages. We may even go up to the Arctic. Look up there," Yuzik nodded at the bookshelf, "I'm studying the charts of the Barents and Karsk seas in my spare time."
"So you like your life too, Yuzik?"
"Like it? That's hardly the word! As soon as I see a compass dial in front of me, I feel on top of the world. The waves slap against the bows, the engine- chugs down below, and I keep watch knowing that the lives of our passengers are in my hands. They sleep peacefully in their cabins, confident that I know my job, and it's my duty to steer the ship on a safe course!... And there are enough seas to last my lifetime. And stars to reckon by. . . Now let's get to sleep, Vasil! I'm due on watch at four." And Yuzik put out the light.
The waves kept heaving the ship up on their great crests, then letting her down into yawning troughs. Creaking and groaning she reared and fell over the oncoming seas, beating them into submission with her paddles. The engine thudded steadily below. It was powerful enough, as Yuzik had explained to me, to light our town and all the surrounding villages as well.
As the ship steamed on its course, I listened to the steady beat of the engine and thought how fine it was that we, chaps, had not been mistaken about our path in life. My father had said something good about that in his last letter to me from Cherkassy. He told me how he had once had to dissuade my aunt from the absurd idea of taking me with her to Cherkassy. "But I thought, Vasil," my father wrote, "that it would be better to let you stay at the factory-training school. Now your hands know a good trade, and although you had a lot of difficulty learning it, it's better than being tied to your aunt's apron strings. I am sure that now you are on a true, independent path of your own, you won't let anyone budge you from it. I also approve of your decision to go and study at the workers' evening university. Good lad! Soviet power is giving you, young people, things that we of the older generation didn't even dare dream about. And it would be wrong if you didn't take advantage of what we've gained by the Revolution. Learn and study, son, don't waste your life on trifles, remember that communist society can only be built by educated people with firm characters and a clear idea of what they are striving for."
Mariupol came up at dawn, wonderfully white and clean in the rays of the morning sun.
When I opened my eyes sleepily and saw the pink light of dawn filtering through the porthole, I jumped out of my bunk. Yuzik's couch was empty and the bedding gone. When he went on watch, Yuzik had left the cabin silently, without even waking me.
I washed my face quickly over the basin and feeling fresher slipped out of the cabin. Swabs were swishing up and down the deck and water was hissing out of hoses. Stalwart sailors, barefoot and with their trousers rolled up to their knees, were washing down the forecastle head. The deck gleamed wetly under my feet. Its clean boards smelt fresh. A bright pennant fluttered at the mast.
The white horses riding from the east were flushed pink in the windy dawn. But what were they to compare with the mountainous foam-capped waves of yesterday! Weasel had been right; the wind blowing from Rostov had not only tamed the storm, it had brought down a lot of fresh water from the Don. The sea had become even yellower and in some places looked like the sandy shores of Tavria.
Mariupol spread out before us. The chimneys of a big plant were smoking in the background. Flame-flecked clouds of smoke belched from the black, dumpy blast-furnaces. "That must be Sartana!" I
thought.
The railway station of Sartana outside the town was the place where the Ilyich plants were situated. Before the Revolution they had belonged to the Providence Company. Probably most of the delegates to the conference would be from these plants, for they were the biggest on the Azov coast. They had more Komsomol members in one of their shops than we had in the whole works.
And as soon as I thought of the conference, I began to feel worried. What should I say in my speech?
"Mind you speak, Mandzhura!" Golovatsky had advised me when he handed me my mandate the day before I left. "Tell them about your working experience. But don't get nervous. Think out what you are going' to say on the journey."
I had thought of everything but that!. . .
"Awake already, Vasil? Come up here!" Yuzik called out.
He was standing on the captain's bridge in a tunic with little gold chevrons on the sleeves and a peaked cap. A pair of binoculars dangled on his chest.
"How did you sleep? All right?"
"It was all right for me, but you didn't have much."
"We mustn't get into the habit. Our job's like that— sailors always sleep with one eye open."
"It's a lovely day," I said. "You were right with your forecast."
"But it's clouding up again in the East," Weasel answered, nodding towards la cloud that had crept up over the horizon. "There'll be another gale by the evening. But by that time we shall be safe up the Don. .