On The Beach

John Osborne was waiting at the entrance to the trunk to run a Geiger counter over him and pass him as clean, and a minute later he was standing with a towel round his waist making his report to Dwight Towers in his cabin, the executive officer and the liaison officer beside him. "We got your signals on the radio here," the captain said. "I don't just know if they'll have got them in Australia-it's daylight all the way. It's around eleven in the morning there. What would you say?"

"I'd say they'd have got them," the radio officer replied. "It's autumn there, and not too many electric storms."

The captain dismissed him to get dressed, and turned to his executive. "We'll stay right here tonight," he said. "It's seven o'clock, and dark before we reach the minefields." With no lights he could depend upon he did not dare to risk the navigation through the minefields of the Juan de Fuca Strait during the hours of darkness. "We're out of the tide here. Sunrise is around zero four fifteen-that's twelve noon, Greenwich. We'll get under way then."

They stayed that night in the calm waters of the harbour just off Santa Maria Island, watching the shore lights through the periscope. At dawn they got under way on a reverse course, and immediately ran aground upon a mud bank. The tide was ebbing and within a couple of hours of low water; even so there should have been a fathom of water underneath their keel according to the chart. They blew tanks to surface, and got off with ears tingling from the pressure reduction in the hull, reviling the Survey, and tried again to get away, twice, with the same result. Finally they settled down to wait irritably for the tide, and at about nine o'clock in the morning they got out into the main channel and set course northwards for the open sea.

At twenty minutes past ten Lieutenant Hirsch at the periscope said suddenly, "Boat ahead, under way." The executive jumped to the eyepieces, looked for a moment, and said, "Go call the captain." When Dwight came he said, "Outboard motorboat ahead, sir. About three miles. One person in it."

"Alive?"

"I guess so. The boat's under way."

Dwight took the periscope and stood looking for a long time. Then he stood back from it. "I'd say that's Yeoman Swain," he said quietly. "Whoever it is, he's fishing. I'd say he's got an outboard motorboat, and gas for it, and he's gone fishing."

The executive stared at him. "Well, what do you know?"

The captain stood in thought for a moment. "Go on and close the boat, and lie close up," he said. "I'll have a talk with him."

There was silence in the submarine, broken only by the orders from the executive. Presently he stopped engines and reported that the boat was close aboard. Dwight took the long lead of the microphone and went to the periscope. He said, "This is the captain speaking. Good morning, Ralphie. How are you doing?"

From the speaker they all heard the response. "I'm doing fine, Cap."

"Got any fish yet?"

In the boat the yeoman held up a salmon to the periscope. "I got one." And then he said, "Hold on a minute, Cap-you're getting across my line." In the submarine Dwight grinned, and said, "He's reeling in."

Lieutenant Commander Farrell asked, "Shall I give her a touch ahead?"

"No-hold everything. He's getting it clear now."

They waited while the fisherman secured his tackle. Then he said, "Say, Cap, I guess you think me a heel, jumping ship like that."

Dwight said, "That's all right, fella. I know how it was. I'm not going to take you on board again, though. I've got the rest of the ship's company to think about."

"Sure, Cap, I know that. I'm hot and getting hotter every minute, I suppose."

"How do you feel right now?"

"Okay so far. Would you ask Mr. Osborne for me how long I’ll go on that way?"

"He thinks you'll go for a day or so, and then you'll get sick."

From the boat the fisherman said, "Well, it's a mighty nice day to have for the last one. Wouldn't it be hell if it was raining?"

Dwight laughed. "That's the way to take it. Tell me, what are things like on shore?"

"Everybody's dead here, Cap-but I guess you know that. I went home. Dad and Mom were dead in bed-I'd say they took something. I went around to see the girl, and she was dead. It was a mistake, going there. No dogs or cats or birds, or anything alive-I guess they're all dead, too. Apart from that, everything is pretty much the way it always was. I'm sorry about jumping ship, Cap, but I'm glad to be home." He paused. "I got my own car and gas for it, and I got my own boat and my own outboard motor and my own fishing gear. And it's a fine, sunny day. I'd rather have it this way, in my own home town, than have it in September in Australia."

"Sure, fella. I know how you feel. Is there anything you want right now, that we can put out on the deck for you? We're on our way, and we shan't be coining back."

"You got any of those knockout pills on board, that you take when it gets bad? The cyanide?"