bow anchor," Haber directed.
A boatswain shouted, his words ripping the fabric of the
quiet Norwegian morning. Men scurried around and disor-
ganization resolved itself into disciplined cooperation. The hook was up in minutes, was seated and secured.
Haber called into the bridge, "Tell the engine room to stand by." Then, "Wiedermann, get your leadsmen in the chains." Hans hurried off.
Slowly, slowly, Jager swung with the current. Tense
minutes passed. Soon she was beam on to the flow, then
past with sighs of relief.
The ship shuddered, heeled over a few degrees, moved
a little, shuddered again. "Mudbank," Kurt said softly, hoping the bow would find nothing more solid.
The swing continued. Another shudder and heel, longer-
lasting and accompanied by scraping, made men stagger.
It seemed certain the ship would be caught. But the
current worked, forced the bow on over the mudbank.
Jager's centerline was parallel to the flow a few minutes
later.
"Whew!" Kurt whistled, mopping his forehead and leaning heavily on the rail. "Close, that."
"Cast off aft!" Haber ordered, shouting. Softer, "I 50
sweated blood, there. The men who took soundings
should've found that bank. ..." A man chopped through
the mooring line. It whipped over the stern. Jager jerked,
drifted forward on the current. "Make four four turns for five knots!" Haber ordered.
Kurt hurried inside to log it. "Hans," he said as he wrote, "can you put men on the peloruses? I'll need
bearings soon. And I'll need a recorder." He took his
makeshift bearing book from the drawer beneath the
chart table, surveyed bearings taken coming upriver.
Steering by their reciprocals should take Jager safely
back to sea.
Hans shouted graphically at several men who were
doing nothing, apparently unaware that nothing was what
they were supposed to do until needed. He took the
recorder's job himself. "We've got the weirdest ship in history," he said.
"What makes you think that?"
"Our officers. Can you imagine a more uncaptainly
Captain?"
"He gets the job done."
"Can't argue that. Uh, bearing to ruined silo, one two zero. What about Haber? He looks like a rat. If he'd get
rid of that mustache ..."
"He's as loud as you are, anyway."
"Course, Quartermaster?" Haber demanded from the
wing.
"You see?" He calculated quickly. "One eight three, sir.
Come left to one seven six about five hundred meters
down."
"Very well." Haber gave Lindemann the conn, left the bridge.
Hans leaned closer to Kurt, whispered, "Mr. Linde-
mann's the only normal officer aboard. Take Mr. Ober-
meyer ..." Just a hint of bitterness could be heard in his tone.
"You take him," Kurt chuckled. "I'll grant you, the Council made a mistake with him. Where is he? He should
be on the forecastle with the Sea Detail."
"The ship's moving. That's all it takes. Maybe we
should feel sorry for him, though. He really does get
deathly sick. But, if I have to do his job, why don't I have his brass?" This was the first time Kurt had actually heard him express displeasure at not having won the First Lieutenant's appointment.
"Time to make that turn, sir," he reminded Gregor.
"One seven six. You'd think he'd get used to it."
51
"No. What about Ensign Heiden?" Hans asked. "I heard he's queer. ..."
"Hans, every man on this ship is queer as a cow with a pegleg. Up here." He tapped his forehead. "Otherwise, we'd still be home. You've read as much history as me.
Think of the officers they had in the olden days, especially the English."
Hans's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Nelson. Maybe it
does take madmen."
Jdger reached the sea without difficulty. The Kristian-
sand girls were cheered again. Kurt sighed with relief as
the town fell behind, as Jager entered deep, reliable
waters. He removed his cap and tossed it into an out-of-
the-way corner of the chart table. "How come we always get the watch after Sea Detail?"
Hans chuckled and took the hint. Of Lindemann
A boatswain shouted, his words ripping the fabric of the
quiet Norwegian morning. Men scurried around and disor-
ganization resolved itself into disciplined cooperation. The hook was up in minutes, was seated and secured.
Haber called into the bridge, "Tell the engine room to stand by." Then, "Wiedermann, get your leadsmen in the chains." Hans hurried off.
Slowly, slowly, Jager swung with the current. Tense
minutes passed. Soon she was beam on to the flow, then
past with sighs of relief.
The ship shuddered, heeled over a few degrees, moved
a little, shuddered again. "Mudbank," Kurt said softly, hoping the bow would find nothing more solid.
The swing continued. Another shudder and heel, longer-
lasting and accompanied by scraping, made men stagger.
It seemed certain the ship would be caught. But the
current worked, forced the bow on over the mudbank.
Jager's centerline was parallel to the flow a few minutes
later.
"Whew!" Kurt whistled, mopping his forehead and leaning heavily on the rail. "Close, that."
"Cast off aft!" Haber ordered, shouting. Softer, "I 50
sweated blood, there. The men who took soundings
should've found that bank. ..." A man chopped through
the mooring line. It whipped over the stern. Jager jerked,
drifted forward on the current. "Make four four turns for five knots!" Haber ordered.
Kurt hurried inside to log it. "Hans," he said as he wrote, "can you put men on the peloruses? I'll need
bearings soon. And I'll need a recorder." He took his
makeshift bearing book from the drawer beneath the
chart table, surveyed bearings taken coming upriver.
Steering by their reciprocals should take Jager safely
back to sea.
Hans shouted graphically at several men who were
doing nothing, apparently unaware that nothing was what
they were supposed to do until needed. He took the
recorder's job himself. "We've got the weirdest ship in history," he said.
"What makes you think that?"
"Our officers. Can you imagine a more uncaptainly
Captain?"
"He gets the job done."
"Can't argue that. Uh, bearing to ruined silo, one two zero. What about Haber? He looks like a rat. If he'd get
rid of that mustache ..."
"He's as loud as you are, anyway."
"Course, Quartermaster?" Haber demanded from the
wing.
"You see?" He calculated quickly. "One eight three, sir.
Come left to one seven six about five hundred meters
down."
"Very well." Haber gave Lindemann the conn, left the bridge.
Hans leaned closer to Kurt, whispered, "Mr. Linde-
mann's the only normal officer aboard. Take Mr. Ober-
meyer ..." Just a hint of bitterness could be heard in his tone.
"You take him," Kurt chuckled. "I'll grant you, the Council made a mistake with him. Where is he? He should
be on the forecastle with the Sea Detail."
"The ship's moving. That's all it takes. Maybe we
should feel sorry for him, though. He really does get
deathly sick. But, if I have to do his job, why don't I have his brass?" This was the first time Kurt had actually heard him express displeasure at not having won the First Lieutenant's appointment.
"Time to make that turn, sir," he reminded Gregor.
"One seven six. You'd think he'd get used to it."
51
"No. What about Ensign Heiden?" Hans asked. "I heard he's queer. ..."
"Hans, every man on this ship is queer as a cow with a pegleg. Up here." He tapped his forehead. "Otherwise, we'd still be home. You've read as much history as me.
Think of the officers they had in the olden days, especially the English."
Hans's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Nelson. Maybe it
does take madmen."
Jdger reached the sea without difficulty. The Kristian-
sand girls were cheered again. Kurt sighed with relief as
the town fell behind, as Jager entered deep, reliable
waters. He removed his cap and tossed it into an out-of-
the-way corner of the chart table. "How come we always get the watch after Sea Detail?"
Hans chuckled and took the hint. Of Lindemann
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