My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

8. Bermuda Shorts

“Excuse me, Admiral,” Riley interrupted my morning cup of ‘joe’ in the crowded Wardroom. And I needed that coffee. I needed it bad. (I’d had another night tossing, turning, and dying for a smoke.)

“What?” I grumped.

Edith, across from me, kicked me from under the table as Riley was just about ready to turn tail from the doorway. Even Mrs. Crane had raised an eyebrow at me.

“What is it, Riley?” Lee asked gently, as he scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate from the breakfast laden sideboard.

“Well, Skipper, the Chief says this bogey we’re looking for...”

“The Sea Nymph,” Miss Bates corrected. “I believe it’s bad luck to call to it a ‘bogey’ when it has a name, isn’t that right, Chipee, oh dear, I mean Commander.”

“First time I’ve heard it,” Chip replied, “and my friends may call me Chipee any time they like. And you’re indeed a friend, Miss Bates.”

Lee hid the pain he felt from Chip’s well aimed barb as he answered the question too. “There’s a lot of nautical folklore I’m afraid I’m unaware of, Miss Bates.”

“Well, fancy that,” Mrs. Crane said.

 “But she did go down in the Bermuda Triangle, right?” Riley asked Miss Bates. “Like the cabin boy’s recollections you found?”

“Well, we think she did,” I corrected.

“Then,” Riley perked up, “like, she might actually have gone down someplace else?”

“That’s right,” Lee said. “I’m not at all convinced that we can trust the recollections of a ninety year old man from when he was ten years old. Now, what’s really the matter, Riley?”

“Well, it’s just the place, Skipper. Did you know it’s also called the Devil’s Triangle?  People have been lost there, no trace of them. Planes, ships,  and all sorts of weird stuff’s been reported, monsters even…alien abductions have been reported too.”

“Monsters? Aliens?” Mrs. Crane snorted in derision.

“Oh, you’d be surprised, mother,” Lee said. “And that’s why we’ll be taking every precaution, Riley. So I expect you and all hands to be on your toes. Report anything unusual, and I do mean anything. I don’t like this cruise more than you.”

“I’m sure you could order someone to hold your hand, Lee,” Mrs. C. said.

“That will be all, Riley,” I said before things began to escalate even more between mother and son.

“Aye sir,” Riley said, but he still hesitated.

“Now what?” Morton asked.

“Well, me and the guys have been talking about when Captain Nelson, well, when his ghost visited the Admiral and the Skipper in Boston...”

“I wouldn’t worry about him, Riley,” Lee said, “he’s crossed over.”

“Crossed over? You mean...he went to Heaven? With all his sins?”

“Apparently he saw the error of his ways,” Miss Bates said.

“I don’t think it works quite like that,” Chip said.

“But we don’t gotta’ worry? Like, about him wanting to take over the Skipper’s body, like when Captain Krueger did?”

“Sheamus didn’t want my body,” Lee said, “and I’m sure he won’t want to or even be allowed to come back and haunt anyone now.”

“Well, that’s a relief. But if he does, Skipper,  or if any of his ghostie pals and acquaintances come aboard, you just let us know they’re here, and we’ll stop them from hurting you...somehow....”

“Thank you, Riley,” Lee said, “by the way, you might like to know that there will be a couple days shore leave in Bermuda.”

This was news to me, and I noticed it was to Chip as well.

“Shore leave?” Riley asked, “Like that’s great, man, thanks!” the boy said and smiled at his captain adoringly and departed.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the change in plans, Captain?” Morton fumed, “I need to make arrangements if we’re going to grant shore leave…”

“Only just thought of it. Besides, I’ve been thinking that there might be some historical documents about old ships that visited the island. Could take a few days to check if their government agrees.  And we'll have to mind our p's and q's. Did you know Britain  recently had a legislative change regarding  their territorial chains of command? Bermuda has a Prime Minister now in addition to a Governor. In any case, I'm hoping that there might be records of the slaves Sheamus may have bought or sold there.”

“Why didn’t I think of that,” Miss Bates clapped her hands. “Well done, Captain. May I come along?”

“Come along? Why, Miss Bates, if we do become guests of Her Majesty’s government in Bermuda to check things out, you’re going to be in charge!”

“Oh how wonderful, isn’t it, Mrs. Crane.”

“Just ducky.”

“I think I’ll also check into available tours or the island. Landmarks, historical attractions...shops even,” he cast a glance toward Edith, and then his mother.

“I do hope,” Mrs. C said, “that you won’t include me in your little excursions.”

“Wouldn’t think of it...” Lee said coolly, setting his plate down on the counter, the food uneaten, and left.

“I’ll take it to him,” I said, getting up and retrieving the plate.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Mrs. Crane said. “You may have usurped Edward Crane in my son’s life, but you don’t have to treat Lee like the pouting, spoilt child that he is.”

“For your information, Mrs. Crane, he’s still under medical observation. Frankly, I won’t hear the end of it from Doc if the captain of this vessel collapses from lack of nourishment. He’s still recovering from a gunshot wound and strained ankles. By the way, Cookie?” I called toward the ‘tween through’, “coffee’s not up to your standard.”

“Sorry, sir. I’ll brew some new right away.”

I found Lee in the Observation Nose. Just standing, staring out the viewport.

“You didn’t finish your breakfast,” I said setting the plate  and fork on the table.

“Not hungry.”

“Hardly surprising. I really am sorry about all this animosity between you and your mother, but, Lee, why didn’t you check with me first, about Bermuda? Stopping there will delay our search.”

“I’m still in command, Harry,” he said, then turned toward me. “It’s a good idea in case the cabin boy’s recollections are off the mark,  and you know it.”

I was about to inform him that it was ‘my’ expedition, when I remembered that as co-owner of NIMR and Seaview, it was his too.

 “It is a good idea, son,” I said, “sorry I snapped. Perhaps I need to up my patch dosage. Now, sit down and eat your eggs. Go on. I told the crowd that Doc would kill me if you fainted, or words to that effect, and before you look at me like that, it’s the truth, well, half- truth…now, eat.”

Lee grinned and suddenly everything was all right again. A Déjà vu moment, as I remembered his other sunshine smiles that made the boo - boos in our lives go away.

“By the way,” I said, “Cookie’s making a fresh pot of coffee. I’m surprised it was so bad.”

“Tasted fine to me. Maybe you’re just having a side effect from going cold turkey?”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll check with Doc. After I have a new cup, that is.”

“Speaking of Doc, he’s still trying  to talk me into decaffeinating. I’m just not sure I can. “He also said he thought it might help you if I needed you to support me....”

“Don’t you dare. Remember the decaffeinating experiment a few years ago? No way I want anyone to go through that again, especially not you. By the way, your mother thinks I’m over protecting you.”

“Take a number, get in line... I really don’t have much of an appetite, Harry. Is it cold in here?”

“No, don’t think so, why?”

“Must have just caught a draft...at least I hope that’s all it was. Perhaps Riley isn’t all that wrong about ghosties and ghoulies.”

“We’re nowhere near the triangle yet. You know, son, I almost wish Sheamus could come back; tell us where the ship went down and save us the trouble trying to find her.”

Lee laughed and actually began to eat his breakfast. I’m glad to say he even called the galley to send down some more hot buttered toast along with the fresh pot of coffee.

But alas, the new brew tastes just as bad as the first, while Lee thought it was fine. So I have to chalk up another blasted side effect of quitting smoking.

And so, here I am, a couple of hours later, going over some of the protocols Chip researched that we need to bear in mind when we visit a British territory. Bermuda has its own peculiar culture but it’s mixed in with England’s. No doubt he’ll do his homework so we don’t make  a faux pas.

Edith’s rather pleased about touring the island, and has already begun researching places to eat and drink, including a place called ‘Blackbeard’s Hideout’ specializing in Fish Chowder. I hope it’s just a name and that old Edward Teach had nothing to do with it literally. I don’t fancy meeting him again. Ha ha.

One thing’s for certain, wherever we go to dine, at least they’ll know how to make a decent cup of tea.