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The second day the Katoomba crossed into the Coral Sea off Queensland from New South Wales. The difference, if any, wasn’t noticeable. Before they passed Fraser Island, Andy was told they’d be heading east of the Herald Packers, then west of Lady Elliot Island, east of Lady Musgrave, port around Sykes Reef, past Heron Reef and Masthead Island to Facing Island and the Percy Group. “We’ll be headin’ south from the latitude of Townsville, not goin’ north of 19 degrees.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Andy stood irregular watches. Usually the forenoon (0800-noon) and the first dog watch (1600-1800). Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be on an American merchant vessel, where anything over 100 gross tons has, by law, divided the crew into three watches, working four hours on and eight hours off, and merging the dog watches into one evening watch. No point in thinking about it.
Nearly every day someone asked him why he shot the sun and he explained that while they were in radio contact, it was important for them to log their actual location once or twice a day. Once he actually tried to explain the trigonometry involved, but he learned quickly that middle-aged passengers weren’t really interested.
He also spent a great deal of time with Sybil, more time than he’d ever spent with the same woman. He was quite fond of her.
About the end of their second week, Sybil asked him: “Andy, do you like me?”
“What?”
“I mean really like me?”
“Yes, yes. Of course I do.”
“But you haven’t even tried to kiss me.”
“I’m afraid to.”
“You’re afraid?”
“Someone told me you’d not been – uh – welcoming to advances.”
“Oh. The passengers who thought the staff came with the fare!”
Andy laughed. “I get it. So ... if you’re not for hire, perhaps I can get a free sample.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly.
“And I’ll retaliate!” And Sybil put her arms around him and gave him a full mouthed return.
“Much better,” she said.
“I agree.”
“What are you doing when we get back to Sydney?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it. We don’t have that long, do we?”
“Sydney on the fourth, to Melbourne on the 16th and then to Noumea, New Hebrides, Norfolk Island, Suva, and Lord Howe Island for three weeks. We end up back in Sydney from Melbourne the last week of February.”
“So 12 days.”
“Ten, really.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t use that language around young girls.”
“I’m 22 and have a diploma in nursing.”
“I’m 26 and really need a full examination.”
They both laughed.
“I’m not willing to – uh – cohabit on board.”
“I understand. Are you willing to venture ten days in a good hotel in Sydney?”
“Why, sir! What sort of a girl do you take me for?”
“One I’d like to get to know a great deal better.”
“Tentatively, ‘yes.’ But let’s see how the rest of this trip goes.” She gave him another kiss.
The remaining days went well. Christmas wasn’t strange as there were no children on board. New Year’s was quite raucous and Sybil had dozens of hangovers to deal with on the first. Several burly stokers had been “cleaned up” and employed as guards/bouncers. They conveyed a number of unruly inebriates to their cabins. But early on the fourth the same pilot came aboard and conned them into a different slip along Millers Point. The crew spent a good part of the later afternoon and evening tidying the Katoomba – finding stray shoes, stockings, any number of books, and other impedimenta, which went to the Purser’s office, in the (unlikely) event that an object was missed.
Sybil and Andy decided to spend the night on board and embark on their “holiday” on Friday morning. Taxi to Central Station, the Coastal Line north to Gosford, and a few minutes stroll brought them to the Gosford Hotel, where Andy had booked them for ten nights (with the complicity of the ship’s radio operator).
They had a delightful holiday, spending much of their time in bed or walking and lounging in the city park along the waterfront. After the weekend, they knew that they were compatible. By the next Friday, they were talking about the future.
“I’ve an idea,” Sybil had said.
“Mmm?”
“Couldn’t the Captain marry us on the high seas?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Is that real or just in novels or in the cinema?”
“Oh, it’s real. In international waters the Captain is lord-of-all-he-surveys.”
“Well, then?”
“Two things: I don’t know whether the company allows husband-and-wife to serve together; and...”
“And?”
“I’m not sure there’s a crew space that’ll bunk two.”
Sybil laughed. “Would you be willing to talk to the Captain?”
“Of course. While we’re en route Melbourne.”
“And the deed itself?”
“Between New Caledonia and the New Hebrides or between the Hebrides and Fiji.”
“Why there?”
“So it’s unambiguously legal. Norfolk and Lord Howe are part of Australia.”
“Smart.”
“Jurisdiction is part of navigation. Oh, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Phone your parents tonight and tell them what you’re considering.”
“Considering?”
“Or ‘contemplating.’ Until we’ve spoken to the Captain it’s not positive.”
“Right.”
“And then I’ll ring mine.”
They did both. The mothers squealed. Sybil’s father told Andy that they’d have to visit, “if you’re ever on land long enough.” Andy’s father told Sybil they’d always wanted a daughter. Afterwards, Sybil and Andy were exhausted. The next day Andy bought Sybil an opal ring.
There were under 100 passengers going to Melbourne. Travel by rail was both faster and cheaper (“and dirtier and noisier,” Andy said). But it meant that Andy could request a talk with the Captain.
“Sir, I’m intending to get married.”
“Fine idea, everyone should do it two or three times.”
“Yes, sir. I have two questions, however.”
“Sorry. This light load means I’m less serious. How can I help?”
“Well, first, my – uh – fiancee is a crew member. Is that permitted?”
“Oh. I see. Well, offhand, I know no precedent. On the other hand, I can’t think of a good reason for it to be barred. There aren’t any female crew on freighters, only on passenger liners. Who is it?”
“Miss Watkins, sir. The nurse.”
“Well, I’ll enquire at the home office while we’re in Melbourne, but I don’t envisage a problem. Your other query?”
“Would you perform the ceremony, sir? We thought perhaps between New Caledonia and the New Hebrides.”
“I’ll let you know before we leave Melbourne. And my congratulations. She’s a charming young woman and done an excellent job on our various trips.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll tell her what you said.”
Reporting at lunch, Andy asked: “Do you know where you docked last time?”
“Right at Station Pier, why?”
“We’ve a quick errand. Under two hours, anyway.”
A pilot came aboard before they could enter Port Philip Bay from the Bass Strait. It was just past 1400 that Katoomba was moored fast and an hour later Andy and Sybil were on shore and getting into a taxi. A few minutes later, they were at Parker & Sons and Sybil was sitting at a counter, picking golden bands.
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