shipâs sides and as he was flying very low he couldnât have seen the red cross on the foredeck â the superstructure would have blocked off his view.â
âThat still leaves the red cross on the afterdeck. Even though it might have been only half light, he must have seen that.â
âNot with the amount of smoke you were putting up under full power.â
âThereâs that. There is a possibility.â He was unconvinced and watched with some impatience as the Boâsun spun the now useless wheel and examined the binnacle compass and the standby compass, now smashed beyond any hope of repair.
âDo we have to remain up here?â Patterson said. âThereâs nothing we can do here at the moment and Iâm freezing to death. I suggest the Captainâs cabin.â
âI was about to suggest the same, sir.â
The temperature in the cabin was no more than freezing point, but that was considerably warmer than it had been on the bridge and, more importantly, there was no wind there. Patterson went straight to the liquor cabinet and extracted a bottle of Scotch.
âIf you can do it I can do it. Weâll explain to the Captain later. I donât really like rum and I need it.â
âA specific against pneumonia?â
âSomething like that. You will join me?â
âYes, sir. The cold doesnât worry me but I think Iâm going to need it in the next hour or so. Do you think the steering can be fixed, sir?â
âItâs possible. Have to be a jury job. Iâll get Jamieson on to it.â
âItâs not terribly important. I know all the phones are out but it shouldnât take too long to reconnect them and youâre fixing up a temporary rudder control in the engine-room. Same with the electrics â it wonât take long to run a few rubber cables here and there. But we canât start on any of those things until we get this area â well, cleared.â
Patterson lowered the contents of his glass by half. âYou canât run the San Andreas from the bridge. Two minutes up there was enough for me. Fifteen minutes and anyone would be frozen to death.â
âYou canât run it from any other place. Cold is the problem, I agree. So weâll board it up. Plenty of plywood in the carpenterâs shop.â
âYou canât see through plywood.â
âCould always pop our heads through the wing doors from time to time, but that wonât be necessary. Weâll let some windows into the plywood.â
âFine, fine,â Patterson said. The Scotch had apparently restored his circulation. âAll we need is a glazier and some windows and we havenât got either.â
âA glazier we donât need. We donât need to have cut glass or fitted windows. You must have rollsand rolls of insulating tape in your electrical department.â
âIâve got a hundred miles of it and I still donât have any windows.â
âWindows we wonât need. Glass, thatâs all. I know where the best glass is â and plate glass at that. The tops of all those lovely trolleys and trays in the hospital.â
âAh! I do believe you have it, Boâsun.â
âYes, sir. I suppose Sister Morrison will let you have them.â
Patterson smiled one of his rare smiles. âI believe Iâm the officer commanding, however temporary.â
âIndeed, sir. Just donât let me be around when you put her into irons. Those are all small things. There are three matters that give a bit more concern. First, the radio is just a heap of scrap metal. We canât contact anyone and no one can contact us. Secondly, the compasses are useless. I know you had a gyro installed, but it never worked, did it? But worst of all is the problem of navigation.â
âNavigation? Navigation! How can that be a problem?â
âIf you want to get from A to B, itâs