[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.As you know, we always have a blast aboard when we strike it rich - and this time the geological samples had more or lessassured us of a good one.We'd been out of beer a few days by that time - poorweather had stopped Wes from bringing in anything but mail -and so I wasrunning pretty high and dry.Now you know me, Johnny.I got in the back of themess with all that booze and cracked a few bottles.I could see the gearturning from the window, and, over the edge of the platform, the sea all greyand eerie-looking, and somehow the idea of getting a load of booze inside meseemed a damn good one.I'd been in there topping-up for over half an hour when Jeffries, my 2IC, gotthrough to me on the telephone.He was in the instrument cabin and said hereckoned the drill would go through to 'muck' within a few more minutes.Hesounded worried, though, sort of shaky, and when I asked him why this was, hedidn't rightly seem able to answer - mumbled something about the instrumentsmapping those strange blips again, regular as ever but somehow stronger.closer.About that time I first noticed the mist swirling up from the sea, a realpea-souper, billowing in to smother the rig and turn the men on the platformto grey ghosts.It muffled the sound of the gear, too, altering the metallicclank and rattle of pulleys and chains to distant, dull noises such as I mighthave expected to hear from the rig if I'd been in a suit deep down under thesea.It was warm enough in the back room of the messthere, yet unaccountably I found myself shivering as I looked out over the rigand listened to the ghost sounds of machinery and men.That was when the wind came up.First the mist, then the wind - but I'd neverbefore seen a mist that a good strong wind couldn't blow away! Oh, I've seenfreak storms before, Johnny, but believe me this storm was the freak! With acapital 'F'.She came up out of nowhere - not breaking the blanket of grey but driving itround and round like a great mad ghost - blasting the already choppy seaagainst the Old Girl's legs, flinging up spray to the platform's guard-rails,and generally creating havoc.I'd no sooner recovered from my initialamazement when the telephone rang again.I came away from the window, pickedup the receiver to hear Jimmy Jeffries' somewhat distorted yell of triumphcoming over the wires.'We're through, Pongo!' he yelled.'We're through and there's juice on the wayup the bore right now!' Then his voice took the shakes again, going from wildexcitement to terror in a second as the whole rig wobbled on its four greatlegs!'Holy heaven - !' His voice screamed in my ear.'What was that, Pongo? The rig.wait - ' I heard the clatter as the telephone at the other end bangeddown, but a moment later Jimmy was back.'It's not the rig,' he told me; 'thelegs are steady as rocks - it's the whole seabed! Pongo, what's going on? Holyheaven 'This time the telephone went completely dead as the rig moved again, jerkingup and down three or four times in rapid succession, shaking everything looseinside the mess storeroom.I was just able to keep my feet.I still had thetelephone in my hand, and just for a second or two it came back to life.Jimmywas screaming something incoherently into his end.I remember that I yelledforhim to get into a life jacket, that there was something awfully wrong and wewere in for big trouble, but I'll never know if he heard me.The rig rocked yet again, throwing me down on the floorboards among a debrisof bottles, crates, cans, and packets; and there, skidding wildly about thetilting floor, I collided with a life jacket.God only knows what the thingwas doing there in the storeroom - there were normally two or three on theplatform and others were kept in the equipment shed, only taken out followingstorm warnings, which it goes without saying we hadn't had.But somehow Imanaged to struggle into it and make my way into the mess proper before thenext upheaval.By that time, over the roar of the wind and waves outside and the slap of wave-crests against the outer walls of the mess, I could hear a whipping offree-running pulleys and a high-pitched screaming of revving, uncontrolledgears - and there were other screams, too
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]