by Stan Mason
At the end of the next working day, the Russian students were hauled back to the surface where Horace Trevelyan bade them farewell for the evening. They replied accordingly knowing that they would see the old man only one more time. They paused to convene a short meeting to go over their plan once more. Peter wanted everyone to be absolutely certain that they all knew exactly what was going to happen to avoid error or confusion. It wasn’t long before they returned to their homes to prepare for the journey to South America. The emphasis was on essential needs; everything else had to be abandoned. The ‘women and those refusing to work at the mine were charged with amassing food and hiring a coach to take them to Penzance where they were certain to find a suitable craft. The rest of them would go to work at the mine the next day conserving as much energy as they could for the exodus scheduled that evening.
After Anna and Peter had finished the evening meal, they set to work clearing out their cupboards in the cottage and gathering articles of sentimental value. When she had nearly finished packing their suitcase, Peter smiled at her weakly, throwing some clothes across the bed.
‘It’s amazing how much junk one collects in such a short time,’ he commented, breaking the long apprehensive silence.
She folded the clothes neatly and placed them on top of the articles resting in the case. ‘Are you certain we’re doing the right thing, Peter?’ she asked unhappily, casting doubt in his mind.
He gazed out of the window for a short while before turning back. ‘I’d better find out how the others are getting on.’ He picked up his jacket which he placed around his shoulders and left the cottage, dwelling on the difficult time ahead. Their dreams for the future, which had been so exciting to consider in Russia before they left had gone from bad to worse and he refused to accept that fate would play such mischievous tricks with his life. Sadness returned to his heart and he found himself locked into the misery of the events which occurred either in the past or the present. What a mess had been made of their lives! In their present life they had lost all reason and stability. Freedom was a figment of one’s imagination! There was always a leader, a dictator, an authority, a government or a law, be it written or unwritten, as well as cruel people in positions of subrogated power. One always had to face a superior or a legal precedent and there was an essential need to follow rules or suffer the consequences... irrespective or not whether justice prevailed. On reflecting his own position, he asked what he was actually running away from. And then the realisation came to him. He was running away from himself! Freedom was an illusion, a mirage, a mystic ideal. People who never thought about freedom didn’t find it a problem and they were unaffected by its downside. The only variance was that liberty was less rigid in some places and tighter in others. The students knew that if they complained abut their treatment in Britain they would be sent back to Russia. It was far wiser to keep a still tongue and suffer in silence. Consequently, there was little alternative for them but to pack up all their belongings and sail off to South America.
Some time later, Anna lifted little Ivan and placed him gently in his cot. He lay quite still, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. She noted how much his features resembled those of his father, putting her finger in his tiny hand which he clutched instinctively. At that moment, Josef entered, smiling as he saw them together.
‘Peter’s outside with a few of the others,’ he informed her walking towards the cot. ‘All packed?’
‘Nearly,’ she replied with a catch in her voice.
Josef held little Ivan’s other hand and looked into the child’s eyes. ‘Hi tovaritch!’ he greeted in a tiny voice.
‘Josef!’ cried Anna in a moment of nostalgia. ‘I don’t want to go!’ Tears welled up in her eyes and she found it difficult to speak.
Her brother stared at her in surprise. ‘Why not?’ he asked perplexed at her attitude. ‘What can we hope to gain by staying here?’
A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘You don’t understand. This place has memories for me.’
He took hold of her hand to comfort her. ‘It might be better to forget them.’
‘How can I?’ she sobbed. ‘All the important things in my life happened here.’
He released her and slapped his thigh in anger. ‘You still can’t forget Ivan, can you?’ He wanted desperately to destroy the man’s image in her mind once and for all. ‘What’s the matter with you, Anna? If he loved you he would have come back. He got what he wanted and left. One day you’ll realise your folly.’
His tirade was forceful but Anna refused to accept the argument. The tears ran down her face and her chest heaved with sobs. ‘I refuse to listen to such comments.’ She placed her hands over her ears pressing hard so as not to hear him. ‘I won’t listen!’
Little Ivan began to cry at her anguish and she lifted the child from the cot holding him close to her protectively, rocking him from side to side as Josef stormed out of the room. She cried for a while longer until the sting in her brother’s remarked eased and then laid the child back into the cot. The past was gone and finished. One could live only for the present and the future, leaving cherished memories to be recalled when alone. It was important now for her to invoke some self-discipline and to condition herself to their current plans. Ultimately, she occupied herself by collecting the last pieces of requirements for little Ivan for the forthcoming exodus. One didn’t need to be a genius to realise that their departure was inevitable. It was simply a matter of adjusting to the change, to the people, to the country!
That evening, the group met at an arranged location where the coach had been parked. The all climbed aboard for the ten mile journey and Anna held little Ivan tightly in her arms. The old coach lurched forward slowly to start the adventure, rattling noisily as every part of it seemed to try to shake itself loose. As it picked up speed, a regular clicking sound seemed to come from one of the wheel-bearings almost the same as that which could be heard by the wheels of the train. ‘Goodbye, goodbye, never forget! Goodbye, goodbye, never forget!’ She glanced at her husband who wore an impassive expression and she felt as though she wanted to cry but the tears failed to come. Clasping the baby to her bosom, she closed her eyes unhappily and sat still with an aching heart. There were many chapters in her life. Another one had ended!
It was getting dark when they arrived at Penzance. The coach ran westward along the sea front towards Wherrytown where a half-submerged reef showed itself offshore at low tide. They alighted, gathered their belongings and made for the quayside. The extensive harbour for small coastal craft spread out impressively before them. They rested there for a while gazing at the boats which were moored, trying to decide which one was most suitable for their purpose. Vessels of every kind graced the harbour, sticking their masts into the sky like toothpicks in cubes of cheese on a plate at a cocktail party. The port was used as a mainland terminal for transport to and from the Scilly Isles; all fishing activities had been transferred to the nearby port of Newlyn. Although very beautiful, all the attractions of the market town and seaport on the shore of Mounts Bay were of little interest to the students as they concentrated on the next stage of their plan.
One of the students had acquired a pair of binoculars and he peered into the dusk to determine a suitable vessel. Eventually he settled on a craft that appeared to be sufficient in size to accommodate the group. ‘That’s the one!’ he told Josef confidently. ‘It’s big enough. Let’s hope it has enough fuel to get us into the Atlantic. We can operate by sail when it runs out.’
Josef took the binoculars and stared at the vessel before passing them on to Peter. ‘Why isn’t it being used?’ he asked suspiciously. It’s a fine vessel and looks so proud. Why isn’t anyone using it?’
The student shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. ‘Who cares?’ he remarked. ‘As long as it floats!’
‘It looks good,’ agreed Peter, noticing the sleek lines. ‘I say we take
it.’ He moved his gaze along the beach slowly. ‘Look there are three row-boats over there. We can use them to take us out.’
Josef was unconvinced. I don’t like it,’ he muttered unhappily. ‘It sits there like a giant mousetrap waiting for us to take a nibble at the cheese.’
‘You’re letting your imagination run away with you,’ laughed Peter. ‘Why do you view everything so poorly?’
‘Because it’s out of place. It’s too large... too good! And for some reason, it’s too far out in the bay.’
‘Well at least we’ll have quick access to the open sea,’ returned Peter.
Josef took the binoculars and stared at the craft again. ‘The Mary Jay,’ he said, reading the name painted on the side of the vessel. ‘That’s her name.’
There was no further dissension and Peter turned to the others to tell them of their choice. It was dark now and a thick mist began to roll in from the sea quickly. Within a short time, the relentless waves that pounded the shore could barely be seen. A ship’s foghorn could be heard to sound twice in the distance and the students could hardly believe their good fortune. On a night like this, their departure would go unnoticed and, provided there were no mishaps, the morning would find them a very long way from the shores of England. Visibility was becoming very obscure and they could barely see ten paces in front of them. Josef ordered the others to follow him and they made their way to the three row-boats.
‘Okay,’ Josef told them when they arrived there. ‘Peter and I will go aboard to check that no one else is aboard. Peter will come back to tell you and then you can all come across.’
The two men rowed out to the vessel and climbed aboard, looking around cautiously only to find it vacant moored there. It was a handsome vessel with eight bunks. How the large group of students would manage for sleeping purposes was another matter entirely. However, apart from that, it was uninhabited, available and it appeared to be very seaworthy!
When everyone was safely aboard, the row-boats were cast adrift to float with the tide.
‘There’s a fair amount of fuel with some extra drums on deck,’ Peter informed them, ‘plus a small amount of food in the galley.’
‘Why does she have so much fuel?’ questioned Josef with a worried look on his face.
After weighing the anchor, Peter started the motor and steered the vessel slowly out to sea. He acted as helmsman, holding the wheel firmly in his grasp peering through the mist although there was nothing that he could see. The engine throbbed sporadically until their ears became used to the rhythm and soon they were well away from the shore completely shrouded by mist. He produced a map which he unfolded and scanned closely with a few of the others.
‘Here’s the route,’ he explained calmly. ‘From Penzance we sail round the bay past Land’s End and the Scilly Isles keeping close to the shore.’
‘Why close to the shore?’ asked Josef unwittingly.
‘It will guide us in the right direction in this mist. When we’re some way out, we’ll steer south-west. Peter pointed to the compass resting in a binnacle near to the wheel. ‘This clever instrument will be our salvation,’ he told them. ‘I can read a compass, you know. Now how about breaking open some of that rum and whisky. I could do with something warm inside me.’
Joseph slapped him playfully on the shoulder. ‘That’s the best idea you’ve come up with so far,’ he laughed, getting into the spirit of adventure at last.
He followed Peter through the tightly-packed crowd which had herded together uncomfortably and returned to the deck with the booty. They had all been told to limit the amount of baggage to be taken with them. Then there was the timing and the theft of an adequate vessel. It was all so simplistic. However, they all carried too much baggage. They had managed to fit it all in the coach, holding suitcases and packs on their laps, but the vessel was far too small for all that they brought with them. It had been designed for about eight crew but the group consisted of more than double that number and there were insufficient facilities to accommodate them all. Lastly, and most importantly, was the matter of food and water. No one could blame them for the haste with which preparations had been made. The food and drink they had brought with them appeared to be enough but, now that they had more time to consider it rationally, they would run out of water long before reaching South America. At the start, all these points were mere trivia which could be endured by stout Russian hearts but now that they had pulled away from the shore, the problems began to grow geometrically in their minds.
‘What’s on the compass?’ asked Josef with concern as they made their way ahead in the mist.
‘We’re on course, tovaritch’ came the confident reply. ‘Right on course!’
Josef nodded with a certain amount of satisfaction and he went into the crowded cabin to look for Anna. She felt cold and miserable in the damp atmosphere, empty at have to start a new life all over again in a country which might be even less sympathetic than Britain. She clutched little Ivan, huddling together with the other students to try to keep warm but this failed and she became numb both inside and out.
The sea began to grow more restless the further they sailed, and the vessel began to lurch heavily from one side to the other. Although she held the child tightly for fear that she might lose her grip, there was a greater danger of being crushed by the other students as they reeled in all directions when the waves pounded the craft. Peter could not reach his wife but after he had checked to see that she was relatively safe he returned to the bridge to find his brother-in-laws in great difficulty. As the boat was lashed by the pounding waves, Josef fought the wheel with all his might. Suddenly, he released a giant roar as the strain on his arms became intolerable.
‘I wish I was back in a test of strength with Ivan,’ he shouted above the roaring wind. ‘At least I knew I could beat him! I can’t control this wheel and we could founder in this swell!’
‘What can we do about it?’ asked Peter with alarm, trying to keep his balance as the boat bucked under him.
‘Get rid of all the excess weight,’ suggested Josef. ‘Throw it overboard.’
‘But all we have is our luggage! If we throw it overboard we’ll have nothing at all.’
‘Yes we will,’ declared Anna’s brother flatly. ‘We’ll have out lives!’
The impact of the suggestion was substantial. Peter staggered to the cabin to explain their dilemma to the rest of the group. Few voices objected and it was more than they could do to keep their balance for a few seconds with many of them starting to look ill. The message was clear. They could take their belongings to Heaven or Hell but if they wanted to stay in this world they would have to throw everything they owned into the sea. There was no alternative! It became a very sad affair.
Each time a suitcase or knapsack disappeared over the side to become swallowed by the choppy water, the students were filled with doom and gloom. Nevertheless, the end result offered them temporary reprieve from a watery grave for, although the boat behaved badly in a very rough sea, it remained intact and they managed to survive.
They had been sailing for some forty minutes when Josef’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can hear something,’ he muttered loudly. ‘There’s another boat out there!’
They listened intently and then Peter pressed his lips together with concern. ‘Maybe we should change course.’
‘Why?’ asked Josef with a puzzled expression on his face.
‘Because the only ships out here at night are likely to be the Customs & Excise, smugglers or pirates. We need to avoid them.’
‘No one can find us in this filthy weather,’ retorted the other man.
‘Douse the lights!’ ordered Peter urgently. Josef stared at him blankly. ‘Douse the lights I say!’
The helmsman obeyed him reluctantly and soon the throbbing of the other vessel could be heard clearly.
‘Cut t
he motor!’ added Peter equally urgently.
‘We could lose them in this fog,’ Josef told him. ‘They’ll never find us if we keep going.’
‘I said cut the motor!’ This time the order was imperative.
Silence fell as Josef obeyed but the other vessel cut its motor at the same time. Everyone remained perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe, each pair of ears capable of hearing only the sound of individual heartbeat. A minute passed by and nothing was heard. Two minutes passed by without a word or a cough from anyone... then a shrill sound cut through the cold night air. It was little Ivan who became scared at the golden silence and he began to bawl. Anna tried to muffle his cries by placing her hand over his mouth but this only had the effect of causing him to howl louder and struggle for breath. Then, without warning, a powerful beam of light cut through the mist and the stolen vessel became flushed with light to the sound of a voice cackling over a megaphone.
‘Stay exactly where you are, Mary Jay! We are Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise officers Do not move from your position or start your engine. We are coming aboard!’
‘I knew it!’ uttered Josef bitterly. ‘I told you she was sitting too pretty in the bay.’
One of the students appeared to be paralysed with fright for a few moments and then he sprang into action like a tiger. Pushing Josef off the wheel, he started the motor, and swung the craft in an arc of ninety degrees, almost causing it to capsize in the heavy swell.
