Igor patted her on the shoulder. “Calm down, lady. They’re just the tins. Made in China and shipped to Germany to be filled with cookies and candy. Then they go to America and get sold to people who give them as Christmas presents, and most of the cookies and candy go in the trash.”
“I always keep the pretty tins,” offered Katy with a laugh.
“Hey! I like those cookies!” said Dennis, and he patted his stomach. “I wish I had a handful now!”
“What’s this? It says StarTron, and by it it has a notation ‘shelf stable’.” Darlene pointed.
“That’s a fuel additive,” Igor said, peering at the words. “It’s a stabilizer and emissions reducer. It’s used by pleasure boaters who don’t use their boats for long periods of time, to keep the fuel good, among other users.”
“Oh. Sort of like the stuff we use at home in gas and other fuel we store for long periods of time,” Darlene said. She sighed. “I suppose we can’t drink that!”
“Why do you store gas? Do you mean in cars you don’t drive often?” Igor asked.
“We store gas for our back-up generator and diesel for our tractor. It’s not practical to drive the long distance to town to buy fuel every time we need it.” Darlene didn’t add that it was also a hedge against economic collapse and financial disaster. Even with the world falling down around them, most people didn’t believe it was happening.
“Here’s a container that was just picked up at Calais, France! It has cheeses and other fine foods!” Darlene cried triumphantly. “And things that sound like pretzels or breadsticks!”
“Copy down the number and I’ll go to the office and see where it was placed!” Igor said. Darlene did that and handed him the slip of paper. After he left, Darlene continued to read over the list on the manifest, finding out as much as she could about what the ship carried. That could prove to be valuable information.
The ship’s motion increased and Darlene assumed they were at sea. She was beginning to get hungry, so she pulled out the bag from the woman at the bakery in Hamburg. That seemed so long ago that it didn’t seem real, but the rolls, butter, honey, and cheese she pulled out were very real. She invited Dennis and Katy to join her. Then she took the rest of the bag up to the bridge and handed it through the door to some very appreciative men!
Snow swirled around Darlene’s feet as she climbed back down the stairs. The sky was a steely gray and the wind seemed to be moving downward as much as sideways. She was careful of her footing and hung onto the rails attached to the walls as she returned to the galley.
Igor was back and said he’d located the container. They were difficult to open but had the tools to do so when the time came. He excused himself with the explanation that he had duties to attend to.
An alarm sounded in the bridge and Mike turned to the radio phone controls. He spoke urgently with someone, then turned to Hendrik.
“Pascal has spotted a fishing boat. It seems to be in distress. There are people waving white pieces of cloth.” Mike grabbed a pair of binoculars and went to the window. “There! Starboard, about 23 degrees off the bow!”
Carl took the binoculars and looked. Hendrik stood next to him with his own binoculars.
“Slow astern,” Carl commanded. “Mike, is there a mayday?”
Mike turned from the radio and shook his head, then resumed trying to radio the boat.
“Who do we have that we can send to check on them?” Hendrik asked Asmus.
“One of the watches and maybe one of the crew from the engine room. I can go, if need be,” Asmus offered.
“Go get them started, and if they need you, go along!” Hendrik ordered.
Asmus left the room, hurrying down the stairs and rounding up the two people he recommended. Mike jogged down the stairs and handed Asmus a hand-held radio, which Asmus clipped to the inside pocket of his jacket.
A small motorboat was lowered to the water and the 3 men slid down ropes into the boat. It was tossed about in the waves as it headed for the fishing boat. The people on the fishing boat stood by the railing, hugging each other and cheering.
The little boat pulled alongside and a rope was thrown to them. Asmus signaled for the others to remain in the motorboat while he checked out the situation. The rough water made it difficult for even one as sea-nimble as Asmus to get aboard the bigger boat, but he made it.
They gathered around him with cries of “Danke, danke” and "Gott sei Dank", meaning “Thank you” and “Thank God” in German.
“Does anyone speak English or Danish?” Asmus asked.
Several people said they spoke English and one said he also spoke Danish. They explained that they had fled the port at Husum after hoodlums ran through the streets burning homes and businesses. They ran out of fuel and had been adrift for hours, and they were cold. The small boat offered little protection from the wind.
Asmus did a head count. There were 5 men, 3 women, and 3 children. The children appeared to be between the ages of 10 and 15. He radioed the information to Mike and waited for a reply. He knew Mike would relay the information to Hendrik, who would decide what to do. In normal times they might have given them fuel, but they could not afford to do so now.
Soon the answer came to ferry them over to the ship, as many at a time as Asmus deemed safe. Asmus looked at the water splashing up between the two small boats in the rough water. He explained the plan and asked for rope.
He threw the end of two ropes to those in the smaller boat and watched them secure it. Then he made loops with a third rope, creating a harness. He motioned the first man to come over and he quickly wrapped the harness around the man and slid a loop of rope around one of the lines between the boats. He told the man to hold the other rope and he would guide him over to the men in the other boat.
The man swallowed hard but merely nodded and stepped over the rail. Asmus watched the motion of the boats, then with a “NOW!” he heaved the man across into waiting arms. The man smiled and nodded nervously and removed the rope harness. Asmus pulled it back and turned to those waiting. “Women and children next!”
All three children and two of the women went across. The last woman refused to go until the end, when her husband, the captain, went. Asmus called for another of the men to go. Then he sent the boat back to the ship. After a careful and perilous trip through the waves the passengers were unloaded and the little boat returned.
Two of the remaining men scooted over the ropes into the waiting boat and Asmus signaled the Captain’s wife to go next. She hesitated, then came forward and held up her hand.
“We have supplies. Food, water, blankets. They are packed and easy to move. We should take what we can,” she said.
Asmus hesitated. He looked at the boat bobbing in the water. They were losing time getting to Esbjerg. But he also had no idea if they’d be allowed to make port in Esbjerg or how far and how many days they’d be at sea. The number of people they were taking aboard doubled the total number that would be on board.
“Okay, hurry. We might have to make another trip if the weight is too much,” he waved them off to get their supplies, then lifted the radio to his mouth.
They returned several times with duffel bags and stuff sacks. Asmus groaned inside, imagining clothing and what-not in the bags, but when he lifted one to attach it to the rope, it was heavy and jiggled with cans and jars. He sent over bag after bag, then waved the boat to make a trip to the ship. When it returned, the captain and his wife, and Asmus, boarded and headed for the ship.
On deck the people were sitting near the bags. Hendrik put Igor in charge of moving the people and bags to some of the empty crew quarters. The ship once more got underway.
It was mid-afternoon and the sky was the same slate gray and pouring forth snow. The wind began to die down toward evening, but was still a torturous howl. At least Darlene could walk across the deck to the stairs to the bridge without gripping rails and hand-holds. She carried a covered kettle in one hand and a bag with bowls and spoons in ano
ther.
The men in the bridge were happy to see the stew that Darlene had put together. They ate the last of the rolls from the Hamburg bakery with the stew. Darlene promised a pot of coffee would be sent up soon.
As dusk arrived the lights of Esbjerg appeared through the gloom. It was hours later before they actually pulled into the shelter of the waterway between Esbjerg and the coastal Island that sat like a protective barrier between the mainland and the North Sea.
Mike was busy on the radio, speaking to the port authorities and customs people, explaining what they needed. They kept telling him he could not come on in, to stay out of the port and anchor until an agreement could be reached.
“Given the circumstances elsewhere, I suppose we’re lucky they didn’t order us to leave,” Hendrik said. He turned to Carl. “Look at the maps with Mike and Asmus and find a sheltered place to anchor. I‘ll go deal with the authorities.”
Hendrik left the bridge. A place was picked on the east-facing side of the Island, north of Nordby, and they used the GPS coordinates to position the ship before ordering the anchors dropped.
Carl stretched his arms overhead, then bent over to touch his toes. He stood up and said, “Let’s go get some rest while we can.”
He felt weary and light-headed as he descended the stairs. He followed the sign to the lounge and galley. Darlene was about to open the door as he entered, a pot of coffee in her hands.
“Oh, was that ‘to go’?” he quipped. “I’ll just drink it here!”
Darlene laughed and went for cups. Carl dropped into a booth. Mike and Asmus had followed and they plopped into the next booth, both sitting sideways with their legs stretched out on the benches.
“Oh man. What a thing this is!” Mike said. He rubbed his hands over his forehead and down to his neck. “I could sleep right here!”
“Have some coffee and pie first!” Katy smiled. She had a pie in one hand and a stack of plates in the other.
Carl sat straight upright. “Pie?” he said in wonder.
“Yup. Made by your wife!” Katy replied. “Peach, and it smells good!”
Darlene smiled. She knew how much Carl loved pie.
After the pie and coffee was gone Mike and Asmus showed the two couples to their quarters. Carl and Darlene were given the Pilot‘s quarters, which, while slightly bigger than the regular crew quarters, were still very cramped.
They didn’t care. They’d been awake since the plane had started descending into London, and that was… how many days ago? They sunk onto the bed, clothes and all, and were asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.
It seemed only minutes later that they woke to pounding on their door, but it had been, in fact, a little over 3 hours. Carl struggled awake and went to the door. A very haggard Igor stood there.
“Hendrik is in the lounge with a Port Authority representative. He wishes you and your wife to join them,” Igor said.
“Sure, we’ll be there in a minute,” Carl said. He closed the door, and he and Darlene used the restroom and washed their faces to freshen up. Then they joined the owner and the official in the lounge.
“The Danish government isn’t allowing them to take money in any form; cash, check, or charge. We’re going over the manifest trying to work out a trade deal for fuel,” Hendrik said. “Darlene, since you’ve studied the manifest I thought you’d like to help with the negotiation.”
The first thing that came to Darlene’s mind was to try to pass off the empty cookie tins as full ones and trade that container to them! But she dismissed the thought and sat at the table, and said “Where are we at now?”
“I don’t read English very well. What are these things in the containers?” the Danish official asked.
“Well, there’s house wares, like vacuum cleaners, and truck tires, and electronics such as CD players, and--” Darlene was glancing over the manifest while her mind raced to decide what NOT to tell him was on board, such as containers holding food items or medical supplies, when he cut her off.
“READ the list and I will decide if you have anything worth our oil!” he said brusquely. She knew some of it was posturing, to dismiss the cargo as worthless to them, to get a better deal. She started at the top and read. When she came to something he was interested in he wrote it on a sheet of paper in front of him.
“Tires, maybe yes.” he said. “And the one that has motor parts. Wait, back up, that one with tins of cookies and candy, that one too.” He wrote it down.
Darlene hesitated and glanced at the other men. She decided she better tell him the truth.
“It’s just empty tins. No cookies, no candy,” she said timidly. He looked up at her sharply. For a moment they just stared at each other.
“You bluff me!” he barked. He underlined it on the sheet. “We will have that one. You are trying to keep the cookies for yourself, I am no dummy!”
“No, really--” Darlene began in protest.
“Enough! It stays on the list. Now READ!” He was done with the discussion. Darlene went on down the list, leaving out key words that might indicate food. He made a list of half a dozen containers, then copied it on the bottom half of the page, tore that part off, and handed it to Hendrik.
“Find out where those are. I will return to shore and arrange a dock where they can be unloaded. When they are unloaded we will open them and see that they contain what you say, and then you will get your fuel.” He rose from the table.
“Wait. This is too much. It is more than the fuel is worth!” Hendrik said. He didn’t really know if it was, but figured the other guy over-reached in anticipation of negotiating.
“It is that or nothing. I do not have time for petty dickering. Take it or leave it.” He buttoned his coat under his chin and pulled his gloves on. “I will wait for your call!”
Igor opened the door for him, and the man swept out in a rush. Then Igor walked over to Hendrik and took the list and headed out the door.
“I tried to tell him. Those tins really are just tins. The tins are made in China and shipped to Germany, where they‘re filled with cookies and candy, then shipped all over the world.” Darlene said.
“We could be in big trouble if they get those containers on the dock and then decide not to give us the fuel,” Hendrik said wearily.
In short time Igor was back and said he had marked where each of the containers were. Most were near the top, but one was buried under a few others that would have to be lifted off first. It would take time.
Hendrik made the call to the port authority and was given a dock number. They steered the ship across the bay and to the dock. A crane began lifting the shipping containers to the concrete pads near the dock. After the first few were unloaded the crane returned the unwanted containers in order to have room for the others.
Carl paced and kept glancing at Darlene, who was wringing her hands. The wind had picked up again and sleet was blowing in their faces. He went to their cabin and brought back a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. She smiled at him in gratitude.
Finally the last container was removed and the crane began returning the containers moved to access the containers below. The port authority man came running and stopped the crane operator. He shouted over the wind.
“How much did each container on the list weigh?” he asked.
“The crane operator glanced down, then leaned over to hand the man a clipboard. A piece of paper whipped furiously and tried to free itself from the clip on the board. The man glanced at it, then tossed it back. He walked rapidly up the gangplank and stopped in front of Hendrik and Carl.
“The weights seem right, and I’ve got another ship coming in for fuel, and I must negotiate with them. Move now to the fueling area.” He turned to leave.
“What about the crates on the dock that are not part of the deal? We don’t even know what is in them!” Hendrik protested.
“Take it or leave it! We are a busy port!” he shouted as he walked back down to the dock. He waved the crane away and bus
tled over to a waiting launch.
“Negotiate, my ass!” Carl spat out. “Do we have any idea what IS down there?”
“I can find out but it’ll be a process of elimination, going over what is on board, and it’ll take time,” Igor said. “Once we’re at sea I’ll get to it.”
“Let’s go get that fuel and get out of here, before the price goes up!” Carl said.
Asmus appeared on board carrying a duffel bag and looking at the deck instead of at them. He walked over to Hendrik.
“My friend, this is home. I must stay here in Denmark and go back to my family. My parents are old, and my sister is not yet married. I must go to them,” Asmus said in a voice torn with anguish.
“I understand,” said Hendrik. “We will miss you. I will miss you. You are a good sailor and a good friend. Now, in these terrible times, you must go be a good son and a good brother. Godspeed, my friend.” They hugged quickly with a clasp on the shoulder.
Prepper Fiction Collection: Four Books in One Page 18
