Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [46]
CHAPTER SEVEN
The three men picked their way through the oily red slick of the tidal mudflat trying to avoid the sharp points of new shoots, ducking between the spread of mangroves until they reached a cleared area where the lugger lay on its side, shrouded in damp hessian sacks like a veiled bride.
Conrad watched Ahmed walk around the boat, lifting a sack, tapping on the hull, peering into its belly.
Tyndall studied the rigging then walked around checking the deck and fittings. Looking thoughtful he turned to Ahmed crawling out of the fo’c’sle hatch. ‘So what do you think eh, Ahmed? We take her to sea or not?’
‘Must sail it, tuan.’
‘I suppose it’s the only way to tell if a boat is sea-worthy,’ offered Conrad, taking off his hat and wiping his brow. He found the heat and humidity of the mangroves oppressive.
‘That’s the final test. Ahmed can tell if she’ll ride well and be what he calls a “setia” boat—a loyal one. He has a sixth sense about boats,’ explained Tyndall. ‘Like some men with horses. This is an old boat but a good one. She’s made from kajibut timber, built inland, put on wheels and carted to the coast. She’s given good service.’
On the full tide the Bulan was refloated and Conrad marvelled at the synchronicity between Tyndall and Ahmed. He sat on the deck doing as he was directed and wondering if he would ever feel at home at sea. As they headed through the channel to the open sea with billowing sails he drew a deep breath, relieved to feel the wind and seaspray after the muggy, sluggish atmosphere of the mudflats, and began to understand a little better what Tyndall had told him about the lure of life at sea. He had never imagined that he would be involved in something as … he searched for the right word to describe his ambivalent feelings … as buccaneering, yes, as buccaneering as pearling. It was a long way from the Bon Marche Emporium owned by Olivia’s father in Southwark. He was still cautious about this undertaking, but Tyndall had been persuasive, explaining how lucrative the pearling industry was—though not without risks, for it was dangerous work with no guarantees. However, with his knowledge of new shell grounds, his contacts, sheer bravado and salesmanship, the odds seemed to be in their favour.
While Ahmed and Tyndall put the Bulan through its paces, Conrad reflected on the last few weeks since they had arrived in Cossack.
Tyndall had brought the shocked and grieving Hennessys into Cossack, settled them into his small house and then broached the idea of going into partnership in a pearling lugger. When Conrad had protested he knew nothing about this business, Tyndall had countered by asking what he knew of farming and running stock.
It was Olivia who had surprised them both by speaking up. ‘Conrad, I think you should consider the idea. You have organisational skills, a business head for numbers. I’m sure Captain Tyndall didn’t see you at the helm of a lugger. I think we should move in a new direction.’
She didn’t add that in her heart she had never felt that Conrad was cut out for life on the land, particularly land as harsh as the property from which they had just fled. Had James lived, she would have stayed beside her husband and battled on, trying to make good in the wilderness. But since meeting Captain Tyndall again she began to think Conrad should participate in something that held the promise of quicker profit as well as a total change in their lives. She still hadn’t totally assessed what kind of man Tyndall was, for his rather swashbuckling ways disturbed her, even his charm caused her disquiet, but her inclination was to trust him. His relationship with the Aborigines put him in a different category to most of the Europeans she’d met. They generally despised the blacks, dismissing them as worthless and of no account.
They were all sitting in a Malacca cane lounge