Ghost Writer(3)

“Is there a doctor on the ship?”

“We have a couple of paramedics. But if you’re seasick, that’s in my bailiwick.”

He pulled a small container out of his windbreaker pocket and handed it to me. I peered at the label: Quick dissolve anti-nausea pills. Then he held up a water bottle I hadn’t noticed he was carrying. It was steel, with a bright orange foam ring around the lower half and the ship’s logo printed on the top half.

“You are an angel,” I sighed after popping a pill.

He chuckled. “That’s my job. Your name is etched on the bottom of the bottle. We have cooks, but you're on the economy plan so there's a duty roster for galley help, before and after meals. Your team and the divers are on the rota until we reach the diving site, then operational crew will pick up the slack. Everyone's responsible for their own bottle. They'll remind you to keep hydrated and make dandy souvenirs of your voyage.”

I smiled.

He continued, “Coffee, tea, and juice are available twenty-four seven and there are always fixings for sandwiches. You met the Skipper when you boarded?”

“Captain Franchot? Yes, briefly.”

“Good. You know where he and I stand in the hierarchy. In an emergency, any member of the ship's crew can tell you what to do. Otherwise, they should respectfully accommodate your needs.”

His eyes rolled upward as though checking an invisible prompter. “After lunch, there will be a lifeboat drill. It shouldn't take long. I think that's all you missed besides breakfast. When you're ready, go to the galley. Cookie will find you something to eat. You can keep the pills. I have a case.”

I gave him a heartfelt, “Thank you,” then swallowed a couple of times as the water and medication threatened to come back up on me.

He rubbed my back. “You'll feel better soon.”

I was already well enough to feel a pang of disappointment when I spotted a wedding ring on his finger. ?a va comme ?a va, as my father would say. It goes as it goes.



The drill was a little scary and a lot boring. Between listening to instructions and waiting to be released, I planned the work ahead. We had three days at sea before we reached our destination. In that time I wanted to interview the members of Dora's team and the crew of the émil Gagnan. The question was, where? If I had my choice, it would have been on deck. Even with the anti-nausea medication, I felt better outside. It wasn't a practical choice.

After I stowed my life jacket or Personal Flotation Device as I was informed it was properly called, I went in search of Gravell.

“Still feeling sick?”

“So-so. I have a logistical problem this time.” I outlined my needs: an area large enough to set up a camera, reasonably undisturbed, and not too far below decks for the sake of my stomach.

“The ops room won't be needed until we arrive at the site. I’ll get it cleared for your use. There's a chart table and a couple of user-defined work areas that you can use.”

I gave him a grateful smile. “That would be terrific. There is one other little thing.”

“Name it.”

“Time permitting, I'd like to interview members of the crew. I don't know how much of it may get used in the documentary. It will definitely help me with the book. You, the captain, and the lead divers are a must. If I have time, I'll do a brief interview of everyone on board.”

“Thorough.”

“It's all grist for the mill. Besides the more people in the book, the more copies sold.”

He chuckled. “Tell me when you're down to your last couple of team interviews. I'll work out a roster then. Meanwhile, fill your film crew in and schedule your interviews. You can start tomorrow. I'll meet you in ops at thirteen hundred hours. You know that's…”

“One p.m. I know. My son is in cadets.”

“Sea Cadets?”

“Navy League Cadets. He’s only eleven.”

“I was a Sea Cadet.”

“He wants to go into Air Cadets eventually. He gets sick on boats.”

He gave a Gallic shrug. “Like you, he just needs to find his sea legs.”



I pushed through the drowsiness long enough to meet with the team and plan the first round of interviews. The ship was severely lacking in deck chairs, but there was a designated passenger area astern, above the diving deck. It was equipped with fixed tables and benches. After the meeting, I stayed until Dora dragged me, half-asleep, to our cabin and made me nap in bed. She also got me up in time to shower and dress for dinner.

I tried, but one step into the wardroom and I knew I couldn't stay. Once again, Gravell found me at the rail.

“Nice night,” I commented.

“You’ve got to eat. It'll help settle your stomach.”

“I know. I just couldn't handle all the food smells. I'll go later and fix myself a sandwich.”

He handed me a sandwich.

“Thanks. You don't have to keep coming to my rescue…but I appreciate it.” I aimed for a winsome smile. Judging by the concerned look on his face, it was probably more like a wan grimace.

In any case, he rubbed my back again, which might have seemed like a romantic overture if his tone of voice was less like a hospice nurse. “Before you know it, you’ll be so used to the motion that you’ll get land-sickness on shore.”