the mooring. The cable hole looked so far away, he thought, his mind as well as his body emptied by the exertion. So very far away. And he had no strength to pull himself up. The current spun him, turning him towards the shore. The cutter had left, he saw. The men were bending at the oars and the officers were standing in the thwarts, waving back towards Pitcairn.
An hour, he thought. He had no more than an hour. He locked his legs as well as his arms around the cable and pulled upwards, lips clamped against any sound, not able to feel whether his limbs were moving as he wanted. It took him almost fifteen minutes to clear the water and then the climb was even more difficult. He hung suspended, the rope sliding between his hands and with nothing against which he could jam his feet, to push himself up. He could hear the creak of the oars and the shouts of the men as they came near, on the far side of the vessel. Less than an hour now. Far less.
But he was ascending. Slowly, perhaps too slowly. But getting near the deck. The knowledge spurred him. He paused, straining for sufficient strength, then jerked upwards in a rush, knowing that if he failed to reach the anchor entrance with this spurt there would be nothing left and he would fall back into the water. He felt, rather than saw, the cable door. He snatched out, missing it first time and almost pulling himself away from the rope, then grabbed again, finding hand-holds at last. He allowed the briefest hesitation, just sufficient to inhale, then hauled himself into the opening, jamming himself there.
He began shuddering, uncontrollably, at the very point of collapse. He’d succeeded, he told himself. He was aboard. Aboard and, for the moment, undetected.
The cable door was a good hiding place, he accepted. But a limited one. Once the anchor was lifted, he would be discovered. And that would happen the moment they got the cutter aboard. On the far side, he saw the pulleys go out to bring it in.
The layout of the whaler was new to him and he wedged there, studying it. Aboard a ship again, he thought, suddenly. For the first time, in so many years, he was on a deck, feeling a vessel move and shift beneath him. There was no excitement, not like there had been that day when he and Edward had travelled to Liverpool and he had seen his first ship and held his brother’s hand with the thrill of it and promised, ‘One day I’ll be a famous mariner. You see, Edward. Famous.’
The rope locker. It was the obvious place, he thought, shaking off the reminiscence and locating the tiny shed. And very near, too, little more than five feet away.
He tensed, awaiting the proper moment. It came as the cutter reached deck level and everyone’s attention was upon it. He jerked away, bent double, body taut for any sudden challenge, scurrying across the intervening space.
He was very cramped. He had to pull himself down upon the coiled rope to prevent his body protruding the locker top off its rest. He lay there, tiredness pulling at him but resisting sleep, wanting to feel the ship move and know he was safe before he relaxed.
It seemed a very long time. He heard it first, the hiss of the cable up which he’d clambered being wound around the capstan and then there was the crack of sheets against the mast and the pitch of the ship under way.
It had been dusk when he got aboard and he waited for several hours, refusing to let his eyes close, before lifting the edge of the locker. They must all mess together on a whaler, he decided, sucking at the salt air. The deck was deserted, only the helm manned at all.
He crept out, accepting the foolishness of his action, but needing to do it.
He bunched in the cable door again, peering out through the tiny gap. He could just discern Pitcairn, jutting blackly against the horizon. Talaloo would attack almost immediately, Christian decided. The natives were probably on the cliff now, just waiting for the Topaz to get far enough away.
He’d warned them, Christian tried to assure himself. He’d warned them and they’d laughed at him, so there was no cause for remorse. He certainly didn’t feel any. He paused at the thought. It would be difficult to know any