My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
65
“What’s the matter, Francis?” I asked, looking up from my desk.
He’d returned from flying Lee and Joe to A- Coruna’s harbor a few hours ago. The
boys had decided to walk to the hotel that Mrs. Piccadilly’s group was registered
at. I suppose Lee wanted to work off some of his frustration with a bit of exercise.
“Well,” Sharkey replied, “it’s just…I could tell that he really
didn’t want to go, sir.”
“I know. And that might just mean he’s coming around to the fact
that he belongs here.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m real glad about that, but…I just don’t like
seeing him unhappy. Even if he did pilot FS1 himself. Oops, I wasn’t supposed
to say.”
“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “he got his feet wet
again, in a manner of speaking.”
“Yeah. He really enjoyed it even if he wasn’t supposed to take the
joystick until he gets recertified.”
“Probably made it more pleasurable.”
“That’s what I thought. Anyway, after we dropped him off, he
reminded me to keep him posted about what goes on in Scotland. And for a moment,
I coulda’ sworn he was going to turn tail right then and come back with us.
But,” Sharkey sighed, “he went ashore anyway.”
“He had promises to keep, and Seaview’s functioning well enough
right now.”
“Yeah, but…”
“I know. We all want him to be happy.”
“Well, he ain’t gonna’ be, not completely, not till he takes
command of Seaview back.”
“He thinks he’s protecting the interests of others.”
“You mean Mr. Morton?”
“The skipper's gotten it into that thick skull of his that it’s
best for Mr. Morton to remain in command.”
“But that’s just plain stupid!”
“Indeed, but that’s just between us, Francis.”
“Yeah,” Sharkey grinned and checked his watch. “They should have
found the hotel and checked in by now…want me to call? He won’t mind if I’m
just keeping you in the loop as ordered. In the meantime, maybe you can
interrupt me and have a little chat with him, you know, personal stuff, now
that you’re both on speaking terms again.”
“Good idea. I’ll be in the Wardroom. Just page me when you have
him on the line.”
“Aye sir!”
It was a very happy chief who left my cabin on his errand.
Due to our recent bout with seasickness, and the possibility of it
occurring again if the diving planes failed again, supper was canned fruit
cocktail and canned chicken salad. The Wardroom was not crowded.
“We have a newscast,” Chip said, as he entered, “they’re on
commercial right now. Sparks will pipe it in when they’re back.”
“Chip, did Lee seem depressed to you before he left?”
“Not depressed exactly…why?”
“Sharkey’s worried about him.”
“Sharkey’s always worried about him. He’s become Lee’s faithful
hound as much as he’s been yours.”
“Heavens, is it that obvious? Well, he’s certainly loyal. Anyway,
he did say that for a moment he thought Lee was going to change his mind about
Spain and come back to us.”
“I wish he had.”
“Broadcast coming on,” Sparks called out from the PA and the
monitor switched on. Everyone in the room turned to watch.
“We’re here at ‘A-Coruna’,” the reporter said, at a large and
crowded beachside café, of all things, named ‘Sea View’, “a Spanish port city
known today for its beaches, and surfing championships. For the past two
thousand years it’s been occupied in turn by the Celts, Phoenicians, Romans,
Arabs and now, American tourists. Such as Captain Nelson-Crane and Commander
Jackson, who’ve rejoined the Piccadilly Culinary Tour here after brief detour
to the disabled submarine Seaview, which is now underway to Scotland.
“This city is also the port from which the Spanish Armada set sail
to invade England. History is all around the place.
“No doubt, the arrival of the American captain will make it into
the history books as well, and not just for his heroism in recent events. It
was also verified through advances in DNA research, that he can claim descent
from
Philippe Henry Xavier Rodriquez, a conquistador, who may have departed for the
New World from this very port, though he never returned.
“We’ve been asked not to disturb the captain or the tour group at
request of this café's manager, who happens to be a Rodriquez. While he’s had no
DNA test to prove his relationship to the captain, he and his wife have still claimed
him as a long lost cousin.
“We’ll try to get an interview later on, before the group boards a
cruise ship which will be sailing to Ireland. And now, in other news....”
The monitor clicked off amid the satisfied grunts from the
Wardroom’s diners.
“He didn’t look depressed to me,” Chip said as he dug into his
chicken salad.
No, he hadn’t. But then I’d noticed how he’d kept glancing at the
far surf, as if he was searching for something. His attention had been rather forcibly
returned to the group, as Mrs. Rodriquez began trying to force feed him some
kind of fish stew, the squid’s tentacles draping over the large spoon as she
placed it on his lips. He’d no choice but to open his mouth and accept it.
Nodding ‘yes’, he’d made her day as he indicated it was good. Soon, everyone in
the group was having some. She was positively beaming with joy.
It was a few hours later in the Control Room when Sharkey informed
me that Sparks had made contact with the skipper and that he and Jackson were
just about ready to board the cruise ship.
“I’ve already told him there wasn’t anything new to report and
that you were standing by...” Sharkey said and handed me the microphone and
headset. He wanted to make sure I had a little privacy, though he and the
entire Control Room crew could hear my side of the call....
“Lee? No, nothing new here...we saw you in town on a news broadcast.
I think you’ve been adopted by the Rodriquez family...yes, I saw the stew. Oh,
well it looked good on TV at least. Yes, I hear the ship’s horn...well, have a
nice couple of days cruising to Ireland....you should be able to get a lot of
nice pictures. Yes. I’ll keep you informed on what we find out in Scotland...
yes Lee...we won’t push her...Miss Smith? No, she hasn’t called. Of course, I
forgot about that...yes, Lee, I’ll get in touch with Angie to see if NIMR’s
received the sketches you commissioned of Seaview. Phone number? Well, it’s Joe’s own
fault if he lost it...that horn’s getting louder. You’d better get aboard...yes,
Lee, I’ll take good care of her...Bon Voyage.”
Even Chip had a soppy grin on his face after I ended the call.
“Mr. Morton?” I asked, “please tell Cookie that the captain did
not like the fish and squid stew we saw on TV. He don’t want the crew to have to
try it either.”
“Kind of got the gist of that from the call,” Chip laughed.
“Besides, Cookie’s on a Scottish kick now.I didn’t know Lee commissioned any
sketches...”
“Er, yes...some of me, too, I'm afraid."
And so it stands. We’re underwater headed through the English Channel
while Lee is topside on a luxury cruise ship traveling from Spain to Ireland.
I wonder if he and Joe will get seasick. No, Poseidon wouldn’t
dare. Especially if they get invited to the bridge to take the helm.
We’ll see.
