STO'B 6-6 Captain Fitton

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Turning aft, Philip beheld the iron water tank, oiled on the outside against rust and fitted with a scale against which Mister South (or now Philip, the master being on the prize) routinely marked the water level.  Philip felt along the top of the tank until he found the soapstone, then pounded the side of the tank until he found the water level, marking it on the gauge.  Then standing back to consider the pattern of marks.  Was the tank holding its water?  Probably.  Mister South was so much better at this.  Philip frowned, but the tank was still close to one-quarter full, they were only a day or two from Malta, and nothing short of a catastrophic leak would be an issue before then.  For the same reason he gave their provisions, nestled on either side of the tank, no more than a quick glance; it wasn’t as if they were in the mid-Pacific.

The walk aft was blocked by the forward bulkhead of the coal bin, so Philip climbed back up to the berth deck, moved aft, and dropped down boiler room companion.

Here he met the Master Engineer and the on-duty boiler watch.  “Master Engineer, good afternoon, what is your report?”

“Good afternoon, sir,” said the Master Engineer, not bothering to salute and immediately leading Philip aft to the engine room.  “The crank pin bearing is growing quite warm, sir.  I doubt she’ll will make Malta without we give her a rest.”

Author's Note|First Post|Previous|Next| last episode with Dr M’Mullen GLOSSARY