Pacific Interlude Read Online Free

“I have great confidence that the Lord will steer you right,” Syl said. “Now, do they have any hot coffee in the wardroom?”
    â€œJust cold food, sir. With the gas leaking into the bilges, I’ve ordered the galley range secured until we’re steamed out.”
    â€œThe men have just been eating cold food? How long have you been here?”
    â€œAbout two weeks, sir. The skeleton crew rented an apartment ashore with the money they got selling gas. They eat there.”
    â€œI think I’ll go ashore for a bite myself. Will you make sure that some officer stays aboard?”
    â€œI’ll be here myself, sir. I hardly ever go ashore. Things are kind of wild out there. Brisbane is not exactly a God-fearing city.”
    â€œSo I hear,” Syl said with a straight face. “Pray for me, Mr. Simpson.”
    Simpson left. While Syl was washing his hands in the cramped head adjoining his cabin, he heard a gentle rap at his door. A dapper white-haired man stood there. His sleeves bore the two gold stripes of a full lieutenant, but he looked dignified enough to be an admiral.
    â€œHope I’m not bothering you, sir,” he said. “I’m Charlie Wydanski, the engineer. Mr. Simpson said you might like to see me.”
    â€œCome in, Mr. Wydanski. Sit down.”
    Syl tried to tell himself that first impressions did not always mean too much, but he had begun by disliking Simpson and feeling in danger of being overpowered by Buller. It was a relief to meet an officer he instinctively liked on sight.
    â€œI’m glad to see you’ve come aboard, sir,” Wydanski said. “I wish we could have had the ship cleaned up better.”
    â€œThe crew can’t do much until the yard gets to work.”
    â€œI wish I could report to you that the engine is in good shape, but to tell the truth, I don’t know how many hours we’ve got left in it. Either the old crew didn’t keep an engine room log or it’s been lost. We don’t have hardly any spare parts or tools.”
    â€œIt’s the old story, I guess. We’ll have to do the best we can with what we’ve got.”
    â€œA gas tanker should have bronze wrenches—there are lots of times when you don’t want to make sparks. I think somebody must have taken ours ashore and hocked them. We have to work with taped wrenches and that ain’t easy or safe.”
    â€œTell Mr. Buller to try to get some bronze wrenches. He’s the supply officer.”
    â€œThere’s not much chance out here, but we may trade some off the merchant tankers when we get going. I can say that we’ve got some good machinist’s mates. The boys are better than I expected.”
    â€œThat’s good news.”
    â€œI can’t complain anyway,” Wydanski said. “I volunteered for this duty.”
    â€œDid you know what you were getting in for?”
    â€œYou mean all that scuttlebutt about our job being to supply advance air bases?”
    â€œI’m not sure it’s all scuttlebutt.”
    â€œSir, I figure that the army and navy both know that a gas tanker has to be kept out of combat. It was just an accident that this one got hit. They say that lightning never strikes in the same place twice.”
    â€œSo they do.”
    â€œFrankly, it ain’t combat that scares me. They’ve lost a lot of these little tankers but it wasn’t the Japs which blew them up—it was their own crews.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œAll it takes is a cigarette in the wrong place, a spark from the galley range or a spark from a tool. I guess you know that when we’re loading or unloading, we displace a lot of gas fumes and they can settle all around us. Sometimes a nail in a man’s shoe on a steel deck can make a spark and that can be enough.”
    â€œI guess we’ll have to have shoe inspection.”
    â€œThe main danger on a gas tanker, sir, is smoking. Also