The bearded face of the First Lieutenant, his short erect figure rigidly at attention, reflected discomfort. ‘Quite so, sir,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I should not have made such a suggestion.’
Yashimoto’s manner softened. ‘You must not hesitate to make suggestions which you believe to be in the interests of the crew. That is your duty. In this case you overlooked the reality of our situation. The men must wait for Penang. There they can swim as much as they like.’ A burst of hammering from the conning-tower made Yashimoto pause. ‘I will be happy when that is done with.’ Frowning, he inclined his head in the direction of the noise. ‘Satugawa’s men make good progress. He tells me the forge is almost ready. All that’s needed now is a bellows. He hasn’t got one, but he intends to use an air pressure cylinder with a nozzle on the end of a flexible steel hose. It should work well. An ingenious man, our Engineer Officer.’
‘He is indeed, sir,’ agreed Kagumi, anxious to make amends.
Fifteen
The Swahili ended his long and colourful explanation — it had been accompanied by many gestures — with a shrug of his shoulders, after which he stared at the dial of the echo-sounder, apparently fascinated by the digits which clicked and changed as if moved by an unseen hand.
Peter Morrow spoke to the Captain who was leaning against the chart-table. ‘He’s added quite a bit to what he told me this morning, sir, but it’s rather complicated. While he was fishing a reef off Cape Ulu yesterday evening a man he knows from another village was fishing close to him. His name was Cassim. Cassim told Katu that he had heard from Mahmoud — he’s another catamaran fisherman — ’ Morrow smiled apologetically — that Mahmoud’s brother, I’ll call him X because Katu didn’t know his name, while fishing a reef south of the Nameguo Shoal two nights ago had seen a huge fish go by. Its fin was, according to X, as high as a chief’s hut. He was in darkness and it was in the moonlight, so it could not see him. He — that’s X, sir — said it was growling as it swam…’
‘Heading which way?’ interrupted Barratt who was staring at the Swahili as if he were the manifestation of a miracle.
After a brief exchange with the African in Kiswahili, Morrow shook his head. ‘He says Cassim didn’t tell him that.’
Chin in hand, eyes on the chart, Barratt nodded with slow deliberation as if confirming an unspoken thought. A long silence followed before he said, ‘It looks as though the man we need to see is X. Ask Katu if he can take us to him right away.’
There was another lively discussion with Katu after which
Morrow said, ‘He tells me he doesn’t know where to find X. They are not friends. But he knows where Mahmoud lives and can take us there. He says Mahmoud will not be fishing until this evening.’
Barratt was silent, his face a picture of doubt. ‘Ask him if Mahmoud’s village is on the coast, or on an island. And how far from here? Show him where we are on the chart. See if he can identify the place.’
The Navigating Officer, an interested onlooker, pointed to a cross he’d pencilled on the chart a few minutes earlier. ‘That’s our approximate position,’ he said, standing aside to make room for Katu and Morrow. The latter launched into an explanation in Kiswahili, pointing to the cross Dodds had made.
The African peered at it, looked up at Morrow, peered again, shook his head, said something which caused the Sub-Lieutenant to explode with laughter. ‘Sorry, sir,’ he said. ‘When I tried to explain where we were on the chart, Katu said, “No, Bwana, the ship is not there. It is on the sea.” When I told him about a chart, what it was etcetera, he said, “This picture is no good, Bwana. The paper cannot be the sea. A man will not catch fish on paper.” But he says Mahmoud’s village is on a little island — about an hour’s sail from here in a fair wind. That must be about four to five miles, sir.’
Barratt said, ‘Good. Bring him up to the bridge and we’ll see how he shapes as a pilot. If he wants to head for shallow water, you’ll have to take him with you in the skimmer for the rest of the journey. If you find Mahmoud, bring him back if you can. Strike the same sort of bargain you did with Katu.’
Restless headed down a narrow channel between two reefs several miles off a coast which shimmered and danced in a tropical mirage, the palm trees lining the beaches magnified and distorted by refraction. Katu had explained that once through the channel there was deeper water which would lead to Mahmoud’s islet, a mile or so along the coast. The destroyer was moving slowly ahead when an urgent warning came from Dodds: the water was shoaling rapidly. Barratt put both engines astern and Restless backed away into deeper water.
After a brief consultation the skimmer was lowered, its crew boarded and with Katu beside him Morrow opened the throttle wide and the little inflatable bumped and sprayed its way over a sea ruffled by the south-easter. The African gripped the skimmer’s handrail as if his life depended upon it, though his benign expression suggested to Morrow that he was enjoying the experience of travelling over water many times faster than he could ever have done before.
Within the hour the skimmer returned and was hoisted on board. Once more in the chartroom with Katu, the Sub-Lieutenant was explaining what had happened. ‘Good news, sir,’ he beamed. ‘We found this guy -1 mean this man Mahmoud. Katu told him he wanted to see X about the “huge fish” he’d seen a couple of nights back. Mahmoud told him it was not necessary to see Moroka — that’s X’s name — because he, Mahmoud, had later and more important news. Moroka was, he said, a very ignorant man. The so called “huge fish” was a big boat like a whale, not known in the islands but it was clearly a boat and not a fish. It had been seen by two men — one of them Mahmoud’s cousin — who had been fishing a reef close to the shore on Maji Island. That was after midnight two nights ago. The same night that is, that Moroka said he saw the “huge fish”. The boat they saw was off the island for some time. Then a rain squall came and later they saw the boat disappear round the northern side of the island and that was the last sight they had of it. They don’t know where it went after that.’
There was a gleam in the Captain’s eyes that Morrow had not seen before. ‘Did you find out where Maji Island is?’ he asked the Sub-Lieutenant.
‘A few miles south of us, according to Mahmoud.’
Barratt examined the chart with a magnifying glass. He shook his head. ‘The name Maji doesn’t appear anywhere here. But there are a good many unnamed islets.’ With some irritation he added, ‘Why didn’t you bring Mahmoud off to the ship?’
‘Not necessary, sir. Katu says he knows Maji Island well. It has a sheltered, deep-water creek and a fresh water spring. “Maji” is the Swahili word for water. The island has a small settlement of fishermen, he says; several families apparently. He has friends among them. He says he will take us to the island after we…’ Morrow smiled.
‘After we what…?’ interrupted Barratt.