And The Twain Shall Meet. Jason Hill
pump, even though the old one had been functioning up to specs just twenty-four hours ago. All they could do was to wait and wait and wait.
Hans considered his options and decided he had none. If they could leave by 6:00, they would not get to Toledo before midnight. By the time the coal was loaded, barring any additional snafus, it would be well into Sunday morning. He could imagine the folks at Trans-Lake wincing. There was not a thing Hans could do about it. They should have been allowed to carry more spare parts to prevent things like this from happening. He had been asking for that for some time but had encountered a stonewall. The Jammison has been in service since 1941, including time spent as a tanker during World War II. She still bears some scars from that duty. Old ships can sometimes be temperamental.
V
As he had expected, Phil found the traffic light passing around Detroit. On Saturday afternoon, most of the big rigs were parked somewhere, so he did not have them to contend with. North of the city, he was fascinated to see the many ships crossing Lake St. Clair and up the St. Clair River. There were tankers, package carriers, container ships, and even a couple of tugs. While he knew virtually nothing about that industry, he could not help thinking how those men faced an even more daunting task than people in his own chosen field of endeavor. Flying could be a test of nerves, but Phil thought those sailors must have their share of stress as well. It gave him something to occupy his thoughts until he got to the end of the day’s ride.
Coming into Port Huron, he checked the clock on the dash. It was 6:45, just about as he had predicted. The sun was going down, but there was still enough natural light remaining for him to see that he was in a special place. Along with some newer structures he discovered many examples of the past—from Queen Anne, Victorian, Empire and even Norman masterpieces to commercial buildings that demonstrated the architecture of the Renaissance, Romanesque, and Gothic periods. Needless to say, he was impressed. He was sorry he would be leaving in the morning, but he had places to go and did not want to miss his connection at Tobormory. There would be other times. He knew that Jana would enjoy this city as well. She was a nut for all things historical. The next time they would fly in.
With that remote plan in mind, he remembered that he had promised Jana he would phone her this evening. He put aside his rubbernecking for the moment, drove directly to his hotel, checked in, and went immediately to his room. As he dialed Fritz’s number, he could see his bride’s beautiful face before him. It was almost too much to bear. He was relieved when the phone was picked up on the second ring.
“Phil, it’s you! You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you today.”
“Me, too, princess. By the way, how come you answer other people’s phones, and how did you know it was me?”
“Oh, Phil,” she said, sounding like a teenager caught staying out after curfew. “Dad said it had to be you. I’m so glad you called. I knew you would.”
“Of course, I did.” Phil chuckled. “How could I not? You ought to know you’re the only really important person in my life. So what have you been doing all day? How’s Fritz holding up with his new move-in guest? He’s not used to having anyone around you know.”
“Don’t be so sure. He’s only a few years older than you. He may have something going that we don’t know about. Anyway, we’re doing just fine, enjoying every minute of it. We didn’t go anywhere today. We’ve got so much catching up to do. He really is a good man. What happened years ago wasn’t entirely his fault. I can’t resent him for trying to do his best for me under difficult circumstances. Right now he’s whipping up our dinner. He won’t let me in the kitchen to see what it is, but I can smell spaghetti sauce, so I think I can figure it out. You know how much I love pasta of any kind. What about you?”
“You know me—I’ve been saving the world from utter destruction for generations yet to be born and a few other tasks. Seriously, I’ve been driving most of the day. I almost forgot that’s how most people get around. I guess I’m spoiled. I just got to Port Huron. All I could think about all day was you, Jana. My first priority was to call you so I could hear your lovely voice to cheer me up. I haven’t even eaten yet.”
“I hope it’s working for you. You made my day.”
They chatted for just under an hour about everything under the sun. That was one of the strongest points of their union, their ability to communicate. It had been that way from the start and had never waned. When they were together, they talked incessantly. Phil knew he would be calling again on Sunday when he got to the George Inn in Tobormory. When he hung up, he was already anxious for that call.
All at once, his stomach began to growl. He had driven straight through from Chicago to Port Huron with only a stop for fuel and a candy bar. His last solid meal had been steak and eggs early in the morning in Terre Haute. He had every right to be hungry. Actually, he was more than hungry; he was famished. On his way down to the dining room, he stopped at the desk to pick up a brochure about some of the buildings he had seen on his way in. Before leaving in the morning, he planned to do a little tour.
Phil sat alone in the restaurant considering the Sunday leg of his journey while sipping on his usual Chivas on the rocks. It would be much shorter than today’s junket, only about two hundred miles. That would allow him enough time to really enjoy the much more scenic part of his ride. The air taxi pilot, Dave Ham, was scheduled to pick him up at Cameron Lake on Monday morning to take him the rest of the way. He had never been in this part of the country before. He planned to make the most of it.
After a simple but delicious meal—rare prime rib, baked potato with all the trimmings and some seasoned string beans—he was content and sated. Life was good.
He took a stroll around the neighborhood to work off the food then went back to his room and left a seven-o’clock wake-up call, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep with a smile on his face.
VI
During the lost hours, the crew of the Jammison had been kept busy doing the many tasks required before any sailing. In the engine room, the old Sulzer diesel was clean as a whistle and raring to go. The weather deck was soogeyed (scrubbed) spotless by the deckhands. They also did a final check to make sure all of the hatch covers were secure. The iron deckhand (a movable crane used to remove and reinstall the extremely heavy hatch covers) was locked in place at the forward end of its guide rails. In the galley, Sam, Ernie, and Franco Price, the other second cook, were preparing dinner for all. It would be served soon after they were out on Lake Erie. As not enough people know, the food on the Lakers is far better than average in order to maintain the comfort and morale of some very hardworking folks. In the wheelhouse, Hans, his mates, and wheelmen were going over preparations for their departure, which still promised to be at 6:00. It was decided that Hans would take the big ship out of the harbor with Fred Palmer by his side. Max Holzer would be at the wheel. Chuck Kendrick, the third mate, who also doubled as radioman, would be at his post in the communication room. The second mate, Paul Flynn, would be giving his attention to the duties of the deck crew while they were handling the lines and winches to free the big ship of its restraints.
At 5:45, Hans gave the order to fire up the power plant and get it warmed up for their six-o’clock goodbye to Cleveland. He was feeling no small sense of pride in his engineering staff and their helpers for making the most of a bad situation. Nothing was quite the way he would have wished it to be, but he felt that perhaps their troubles were behind them. For the first time that day, his mood was turning rosy. Not much else could go wrong, could it?
At six on the dot, he ordered two deckhands, Pete Francis and Vince Gambowski, ashore to free the forward and aft lines. Using the landing boom with the bosun chair attached, each in turn was lowered to the dock, where he ran to his assigned bollard. With a bit of assistance from the winches, they were given enough slack to free the heavy cables. This done, they streaked for the bosun chair to be hoisted back on board. The winches reeled in the lines, and they were free to go.
Leaving port, Hans heard the winch generators shut down. They would not be needed again until they reached their first stop. After clearing the breakwater and heading west along the coast, he turned the ship over to Fred with instructions to call him one hour