Williwaw

by Gore Vidal

  “You taking over now?” he said.

  Evans nodded, “Yes, I’ll take over. You got a couple of hours, why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “I think I’ll go below and mess around. I’m not so sleepy.”

  “By the way, did you fix that ventilator, the one over the Chief’s engine room?”

  Bervick frowned, “No, I forgot all about it. I’ll go now.” Bervick left the wheelhouse. Evans checked the compass with the course. Then he opened one of the windows and let the cool air into the wheelhouse. In a few minutes he would go to his cabin and take a swallow of bourbon; then he would come back and feel much happier as he stood his watch and thought.

  ii

  Major Barkison and the Chaplain were in the salon when Bervick entered. The Chaplain was putting on his parka.

  “Hello, Sergeant,” said the Major. “We thought we might take a stroll on deck before turning in.”

  “It’s pretty windy still.”

  “Well,” said the Chaplain, “I wouldn’t want to get a chill on top of all this excitement.”

  “Well,” said the Major, “maybe we’d better just go to our cabins.” The Chaplain thought that was a good idea and Bervick was glad to see them go.

  He walked around the salon, straightening chairs and arranging the books which were still scattered about. The salon was quiet, now that the big wind had stopped. Even the bare electric lights seemed more friendly than usual.

  The after door opened and Hodges came into the salon. He slammed the door and stood shivering as the heat of the salon warmed him.

  “What were you doing out?” asked Bervick.

  “Walking around. I think we’ll be able to see stars soon. Looks like it’s clearing up.”

  “Going to be quite a while before she clears that much.”

  “Well, it looked pretty clear to me.”

  “Clouds thinning maybe. I’ll be on deck myself soon.”

  “You’ll see nice weather, at least that’s what I saw.” Hodges sat on the bench and scratched his leg thoughtfully.

  “Hope so.” Bervick tried to think why he had come below. He looked up and saw that Duval was standing near him; he remembered.

  The Chief was angry, “Say, Bervick, I thought you was going to fix that ventilator.”

  “What’s the matter with it now, we ain’t rocking much.”

  “Well, it’s leaking all over my engine, that’s what’s the matter. I thought Evans told you to get that fixed long time ago?”

  “He certainly did. You heard him, too, I guess,” Bervick tried to irritate Duval.

  “Damn it then, what’re you going to do, just stand there like a stupid bastard?”

  Bervick frowned. “You watch what you say, Chief.”

  “Who do you think you are telling me what I should say, anyhow?”

  “Let’s take it easy,” said Hodges, remembering his superior rank and deciding that things were getting out of hand.

  Bervick and the Chief ignored him. “I don’t want you calling me a bastard,” said Bervick. He enjoyed himself, fighting with Duval like this. Somehow Duval had begun to represent everything that he hated.

  “I’ll call you anything I like when you sound off like that. You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you? Hanging around Evans all the time. You and he think you’re mighty superior to everybody else.”

  “We sure in hell are to you.”

  Duval flushed a dirty red. “Shut up, you thick squarehead.”

  “Cajun!” Bervick snarled the word, made an oath of it.

  Duval started toward him. Hodges stood up. “By the way,” said Hodges quickly, “where are the Major and the Chaplain?”

  “What?” Duval stopped uncertainly; then he remembered himself. “I don’t know.”

  “They’ve gone to bed,” said Bervick. He was sorry that the Chief had not tried to fight with him.

  Hodges, pleased that he had stopped what could have been serious trouble, tried to think of something else to say. He asked, “Do you get into the Big Harbor often, Mr. Duval?” This was the first thing that came into his head and it was the wrong thing to say.

  “Yeah, we go there once, twice a week,” said Duval.

  “A lot of nice people there,” said Bervick, looking at Duval.

  “All you got to have is money,” said the Chief softly,

  “Money and technique, that’s all you’ve got to have. Some people ain’t got either.”

  “You’re right there,” said Bervick. “Some people got just one and not the other. Some people that I could name are just like that.”

  “Some people,” said Duval, beginning to enjoy himself, “haven’t got nothing to offer. I pity those people, don’t you, Lieutenant?”

  Hodges, somewhat puzzled, agreed that he pitied those people.

  “Of course,” said Bervick, “there are some guys who sneak around and get other people’s girls and give them a lot of money when they get too old to give anything else.” This stung Duval but he did not show it. “Sure, sure, then there’re the big snow artists. They talk all the time, that’s all they do is talk. That’s what Olga said someone we know used to do all the time, talk.”

  “You must’ve made that up. Maybe she meant you. Yes, that’s who she meant, she meant you.”

  “I don’t think so. She knows better. This guy was a squarehead, the guy she was talking about.”

  “I think,” said Hodges, worried by the familiar pattern of the argument, “I think maybe you better take care of that ventilator, like you said.”

  “That’s right,” said Bervick, “we can’t let the spray get on the Chief Engineer. That’s getting him too near the water.”

  “I been on boats before you was born.”

  “Sure, they have ferries where I come from, too.” There was silence. Bervick felt keen and alive and strangely excited, as though something important was going to happen to him. He looked at the Chief in an almost detached manner. Hodges was frowning, he noticed. Hodges was very young and not yet able to grasp the problems of loneliness and rivalry.

  “Someday,” said the Chief at last, “somebody’s going to teach you a lesson.”

  “I can wait.”

  “I think it would be a good idea,” said Hodges, “if you went and fixed whatever you have to fix. You’re not getting anywhere now.”

  “O.K.,” said Bervick, “I’ll fix it.”

  “You going to do it alone?” asked Hodges.

  “Sure, it’s too late to get anybody else to help. I couldn’t ask the Chief because he’s too high-ranking to do any work.”

  “Shut up,” said the Chief. “I could do it alone if I wanted to.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Why,” said Hodges, “don’t you do it together?” At Officers’ School they had taught him that nothing brought men closer together than the same work.

  “That’s a fine idea,” said Bervick, knowing that Duval would not like it.

  “Sure,” said the Chief, “sure.”

  They walked out on deck. Hodges stayed in the salon, playing solitaire.

  There was a cold wind blowing and the ship was pitching on the short small waves. Spray splattered the decks from time to time. The sky was beginning to clear a little. Hodges had been right about the weather.

  The ventilator was dented and slightly out of position.

  When spray came over the side of the ship it eddied around the base of the ventilator and water trickled through to the engine room.

  Duval and Bervick looked at the ventilator and did not speak. Bervick pushed it and felt it give slightly. Duval sat on the railing of the ship, opposite the ventilator.

  “I suppose,” said Bervick, “we should hammer the thing in place.”

  “You go get the hammer then.”

  Bervick walked to the afterdeck. He leaned down and raised the lid of the lazaret. A smell of tar and rope came to him from the dark hole. He climbed down inside the lazaret and fumbled around a moment in
the dark. Then he found a hammer and some nails.

  “What took you so long?” asked the Chief. He was standing by the ventilator, smoking.

  “You forgot about blackout rules, huh? You making your own smoking rules now?”

  “You just mind your business.” Duval went on smoking.

  “I’m going to tell Evans,” said Bervick.

  “You do just what you please. Now let’s fix that ventilator and stop talking.”

  Bervick got down on his knees and tried to wiggle the ventilator in place. It was too heavy. He stood up again.

  “What’s the matter? Can’t you get it in place?”

  “No, I’d like to see you try.”

  The Chief got down on his knees and pushed at the ventilator. Nothing happened. In the darkness Bervick could see the lighted tip of the Chiefs cigarette blinking quickly as he puffed. Duval stood up.

  “You have to move these things from the top, that’s what you have to do.”

  “Well, why don’t you?”

  “That’s what you’re on this boat for, to take care of them things like that. You’re a deckhand and this is deck work. This isn’t my job.”

  “You’re the one that’s complaining. It don’t make no difference to me if your engine gets wet.”

  Duval tossed his cigarette overboard. “Take care of that.” He pointed to the ventilator.

  Bervick slowly pushed the ventilator over the opening it was to cover. Then he picked up the hammer and started to nail the base of the ventilator into the deck.

  “How’s it coming?” asked a voice. Bervick looked up and recognized Hodges. He was standing beside the Chief.

  “Don’t know yet. Trying to nail this thing down.” He was conscious that his knees were aching from the cold damp deck. He stood up.

  “What’s the matter now?” asked Duval.

  “Knees ache.”

  “You got rheumatism, maybe?” asked Hodges with interest.

  “Everybody has a little bit of it up here,” said Bervick and he rubbed his knees and wished the pain would go away.

  “I never had it,” said the Chief as though it were something to be proud of.

  “Why, I thought I saw you limping around today,” said Hodges.

  “That was a bang I got in the williwaw. Just bruised my knee.”

  “Well, I’ll see you all later.” Hodges walked toward the forward deck. The ship was pitching more than usual. The waves were becoming larger but overhead the sky was clearing and there was no storm in sight.

  “Let’s get this done,” said Duval, “I’m getting cold.”

  “That’s too bad. Maybe if you did some work you’d warm up.”

  “Come on,” said Duval and he began to wrestle with the ventilator. It was six feet tall, as tall as Duval.

  “That’s no way to move it,” said Bervick. He pushed the Chief away and he grasped the ventilator by the top. Slowly he worked it into place again. Duval watched him.

  “See how simple it is,” said Bervick.

  Duval grunted and sat down on the railing again. Overhead a few stars began to shine very palely on the sea. Bervick hammered in the dark. Then, working too quickly, he hit his own hand. “Christ!” he said and dropped the hammer.

  “Now what’s wrong?” asked Duval irritably, shifting his position on the railing.

  “Hit my hand,” said Bervick, grasping it tightly with his good hand.

  “Well, hurry up and get that thing nailed.”

  Anger flowed through Bervick in a hot stream. “Damn it, if you’re in a hurry, do it yourself.” He picked up the hammer and threw it at Duval.

  The hammer, aimed at Duval’s stomach, curved upward and hit him in the neck. The Chief made a grab for the hammer and then the ship descended into a trough.

  Duval swayed uncertainly on the railing. Then Duval fell overboard.

  There was a shout and that was all. Bervick got to his feet and ran to the railing. He could see the Chief, struggling in the cold water. He was already over a hundred feet away. Bervick watched him, fascinated. He could not move.

  His mind worked rapidly. He must find Evans and stop the engines. Then they would get a lifeboat and row out and pick the Chief up. Of course, after five, ten minutes in the water he would be dead.

  Bervick did not move, though. He watched the dark object on the water as it slipped slowly away. The ship sank into another deep trough and when they reached the crest of the next wave there was no dark object on the water.

  Then he was able to move again. He walked, without thinking, to the forward deck. A wet wind chilled his face as he looked out to sea. The snow clouds were still thinning. In places dim stars shone in the sky.

  He walked back to the stump where the mast had been. He felt the jagged wood splinters and was glad that he had not been under the mast when it had fallen.

  Slowly Bervick walked to the afterdeck. He had left the lazaret open; he closed it and then he went into the salon.

  Hodges was building a house of cards. His hands were very steady and he was working intensely. When Bervick shut the door the house of cards collapsed.

  “Damn,” said Hodges and smiled. “Get it fixed all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, we got it fixed.”

  “I thought I heard a splash a minute ago. You drop anything over?”

  Bervick swallowed hard. “No, I didn’t throw nothing overboard.”

  “I guess it was just waves hitting the boat.”

  “Yeah, that was it, waves hitting the deck.” Bervick sat down on a bench and thought of nothing.

  “Where’d the Chief go?” asked Hodges.

  Bervick wished that Hodges would shut up. “I think he went below. He went around outside.” Once the lie was made things became clearer to Bervick. They wouldn’t know what had happened for hours.

  Hodges began to build his house of cards again.

  Light glinted for a moment on Hodges’ gold ring. That reminded Bervick of something. He was puzzled. It reminded him of something unpleasant and important. Then he remembered: the Chief’s gold tooth which always gleamed when he laughed, when he laughed at Bervick. Duval was dead now. He realized this for the first time.

  The salon was very still. Bervick could hear the careful breathing of Hodges as he built his house of cards. Bervick watched his fingers, steady fingers, as he worked.

  No one would be sorry Duval was dead, thought Bervick. His wife would be, of course, and his family, but the men wouldn’t. They’d think it was a fine thing. They would talk about it, of course. They would try to guess what had happened, how Duval fell overboard; they would wonder when it had happened.

  “You and the Chief were really arguing,” commented Hodges, putting a piece of the roof in place.

  “We’re not serious.”

  “You sounded serious to me. It’s none of my business but I think maybe you sounded off a little too loud. He’s one of your officers.”

  “We didn’t mean nothing. He talked out of line, too.”

  “That’s right. That’s dangerous stuff to do, talk out of line. There can be a lot of trouble.”

  “Sure, a lot of trouble. Sometimes guys kill each other up here. It’s happened. This is a funny place. You get a little queer up here.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Hodges added a third story to his house.

  “Me and the Chief, we don’t get along so well, but I ain’t got any hard feelings against him, know what I mean?”

  “I think so. Started over a girl, didn’t it?”

  “There’re not many up here. The ones they’ve got there’s a lot of competition for. We were just after the same one.”

  “He got her?”

  “Yeah, he got her.”

  Hodges began to build an annex on the left side of the house. Bervick hoped he would build one on the right side, too. It looked lopsided the way it was.

  “That’s too bad,” said Hodges.

  “I didn’t like it so much, either.”


  “I know how you feel.”

  Bervick doubted that, but said nothing.

  Hodges decided to build a fourth story. The house of cards collapsed promptly. “Damn,” said Hodges and he did not rebuild.

  Bervick looked at his watch. “I’d better get some sleep,” he said. “See you in the morning.”

  “Yeah, see you.”

  Evans was singing to himself when Bervick came into the wheelhouse. The man at the wheel looked sleepily out to sea.

  “Fix the ventilator?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have much trouble with it?”

  “Not so much.”

  “Hammer it?”

  “We hammered it.”

  “Who helped you? Not the Chief?”

  “Well, he stood by and watched.”

  “Was he sore you hadn’t already done it?”

  “He’s always sore about something.”

  “I thought I heard you and him arguing below.” Bervick played with his blond hair. “We had a little argument about fixing the ventilator.”

  “I’ll bet you sounded off right in front of the Major.”

  “No, just Hodges.”

  Evans groaned, “What the hell’s matter with you? Can’t you get along any better than that with people?”

  “Doesn’t look much like it.”

  “He’s going to try get you off this boat, you know that?” “I don’t think he will,” said Bervick and he was sorry he had spoken so quickly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, you know, I don’t think he’s that kind of guy.”

  “I never heard you say that before.”

  “Well, he’s not so bad, when you get to know him.”

  “Is that right?” Evans laughed. “You don’t make much sense.”

  Bervick laughed. It was the first time that he had really felt like laughing in several months. The surface of his mind was serene: only in the back of his mind, the thoughts he was not thinking about, only there was he uneasy.

  “Martin taking over at eight bells?”

  Evans nodded. “You better get him up.”

  Bervick went into the small dark cabin. Martin was asleep and breathing heavily. Bervick shook him.

  “Get up,” he said.

  “Sure, sure,” said Martin wearily. He rolled out of his bunk; he was already dressed.