The Wreck Of The Mary Deare

She had been built on the Clyde in 1910 for the Atlantic trade. Patch had got her history from some old notebook he had found on board. He had even discovered the origin of her name; the result of some long-dead chairman’s dry sense of humour, his wife being called Mary and.his own second name being Deare. The ship had been torpedoed twice in the First World War, patched up and kept at sea in convoy after convoy, and then in 1922 she had hit a growler off the Gulf of St Lawrence and after that she’d been sold and for ten years had tramped the seas. The depression caught her in a Far Eastern port where she lay rotting until the shadow of another war raised shipping freights and she changed hands again and was put to work in the Indian Ocean and the China Seas. She was torpedoed again in 1941, just outside Singapore, packed with troops. She limped into Rangoon, was patched up and sailed to San Francisco. There she had the only decent overhaul in twenty years and went back to work again in the Far Eastern theatre. And then in the last days of the Japanese war, she was stranded on a coral reef under shell-fire. Half her bottom was torn out, her keel permanently kinked, part of her superstructure shot away.

‘Any modern ship would have broken her back,’ Patch said, and there was a sort of pride in the way he said it.

He went on to tell how she had changed hands again in 1947 — a Burmese owner this time; how she had gone on struggling from port to port throughout the Far East with a twisted back and botched-up repairs until she had been discarded in Yokohama, four years later, and left there to rot until the Dellimare Company purchased her.

In telling her story, he somehow invested the Mary Deare with personality. If he had laid stress on the fact that she was a broken-down old hulk on her way to the scrap-heap he could have demonstrated his ability as a seaman and as a Master in bringing her up through the Bay in one of the worst storms of the year. Instead, he told the Court that she was a fine ship, easy to handle, and explained that it was only the repairs, carried out in poorly equipped Far Eastern ports, that caused her to leak. His loyalty to the ship was impressive, but it lost him the sympathy he might so easily have had.

After that Holland was taking him over the details of the voyage — up through the Red Sea and the Suez Canal and into the Mediterranean; and all the time he questioned him about the crew, the officers, the relations between Dellimare and Taggart; and the picture that emerged was not a pleasant one — the crew ill-disciplined, the chief engineer incompetent, a poker addict, gambling indiscriminately with crew and officers, the captain keeping to his cabin, never on the bridge, and Dellimare roaming restlessly round the ship, feeding alone in his cabin, occasionally with Higgins, and sometimes shut up with the captain for hours on end.

The court was very still as Holland reached the point at which Patch had assumed command. ‘According to your entry in the ship’s log, Captain Taggart died some time in the early hours of March 2nd. Is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘You had no doctor on board?’

‘No.’

Janet Taggart was leaning forward, her face very pale, the knuckles of her hands white as they gripped the back of the seat in front of her.

‘Did you treat Captain Taggart yourself?’

‘I did what I could.’

‘And what was that?’

‘I got him to bed. I tried to get him to take a sedative, but he wouldn’t.’ Patch’s voice trailed off and he glanced quickly across the court at Janet Taggart.

‘Did you lock him in his cabin?’

‘Yes.’ His voice was scarcely above a whisper.

‘Why?’

Patch did not reply.

‘You state in the log that, in your opinion, Captain Taggart died of heart failure. Would you please explain to the Court what it was that caused his heart — if it was his heart — to fail?’

‘Mr Holland.’ Bowen-Lodge’s voice cut in, sharp and high. ‘I must remind you of what I said before. I do not consider this relevant or necessary.’

But Holland was obstinate this time. ‘With all due deference, Mr Learned Chairman, I consider it highly relevant. The witness is showing commendable restraint regarding the nature of Captain Taggart’s illness. That illness, however, has a considerable bearing on the efficiency of the command he inherited and in fairness to him the Court must be informed.’ And, without waiting for permission, he swung round on Patch and said, ‘Now that you know the reason for the question, perhaps you will answer it. What was the basic cause of death?’

Patch stood there, obstinately silent, and Holland became suddenly impatient. The man died locked in his cabin. Isn’t that correct?’

It was brutally put and there was a shocked look on Patch’s face as he nodded dumbly.

‘Why did you lock him in his cabin?’ And when Patch didn’t answer, Holland put a leading question.

‘Is it true that you locked him in his cabin because he was raving?’

‘He was delirious, yes,’ Patch murmured.

‘He was upsetting the crew?’

‘Yes.’

‘Making wild accusations?’