of the blue Clousiot said, ‘What luck I had, finding you in hospital!’
‘It was just as lucky for me – you’re not the only one.’ I thought of Dega and Fernandez … if they’d said yes, they would have been here with us.
‘That’s not so certain,’ said Clousiot. ‘But it might have been tricky for you to get the Arab into the ward just at the right moment.’
‘Yes, Maturette has been a great help to us. I’m very glad we brought him, he’s as reliable as they come, brave and clever.’
‘Thanks,’ said Maturette. ‘And thank you both for believing in me, although I’m so young and although I’m you know what. I’ll do my best not to let you down.’
Then after a while I said, ‘François Sierra too, the guy I’d so much wanted to have with us; and Galgani…’
‘As things turned out, Papillon, it just wasn’t on. If Jesus had been a decent type and if he had given us a decent boat, we could have lain up and waited for them – we could have waited for Jesus to get them out and bring them. Anyhow, they know you, and they know that if you didn’t send for them, it was on account of it just wasn’t possible.’
‘By the way, Maturette, how come you were in the high-security ward?’
‘I never knew I was to be interned. I reported sick because I had a sore throat and because I wanted the walk, and when the doctor saw me he said, “I see from your card that you’re for internment on the islands, Why?” “I don’t know anything about it, Doctor. What’s internment mean?” “All right. Never mind. Hospital for you.” And there I was: that’s all there was to it.’
‘He meant to do you a good turn,’ said Clousiot.
‘What on earth did the quack want, sending me to hospital? Now he must be saying “My angel-faced boy wasn’t such a wet after all, seeing he’s got out – he’s on the run”’
We talked and laughed. I said, ‘Who knows but we may come across Julot, the hammer-man. He’ll be far off by now, unless he’s still lying up in the bush.’ Clousiot said, ‘When I left I put a note under my pillow saying, “Gone without leaving an address”’ That made us roar with laughter.
Five days we sailed on with nothing happening. The east-west passage of the sun acted as my compass by day: by night I used the compass itself. On the morning of the sixth day we were greeted by a brilliant sun; the sea had suddenly calmed, and flying-fishes went by not far away. I was destroyed with fatigue. During the night Maturette had kept wiping my face with a wet cloth to keep me from sleeping; but even so I went off, and Clousiot had had to burn me with his cigarette. Now it was dead calm, so I decided to get some sleep. We lowered the mainsail and the jib, keeping just the staysail, and I slept like a log in the bottom of the boat, the sail spread to keep me from the sun.
I woke up with Maturette shaking me. He said, ‘It’s noon or one o’clock, but I’m waking you because the wind is getting stronger and on the horizon where it’s coming from, everything’s black.’ I got up and went to my post. The one sail we had set was carrying us over the unruffled sea. In the east, behind me, all was black, and the breeze was strengthening steadily. The staysail and the jib were enough to make the boat run very fast. I furled the mainsail against the mast, carefully, and made all tight. ‘Look out for yourselves, because what’s coming is a storm.’
Heavy drops began to fall on us. The darkness came rushing forwards at an astonishing speed, and in a quarter of an hour it had spread from the horizon almost as far as us. Now here it came: an incredibly strong wind drove straight at us. As if by magic the sea got up faster, waves with foaming white tops: the sun was wiped right out, rain poured down in torrents, we could see nothing, and as the seas hit the boat so they sent packets of water stinging into my face. It was a storm all right, my first storm, with all the terrific splendour of nature unrestrained – thunder, lightning, rain, waves, the howling of the wind over and all around us.
The boat was carried along like a straw; she climbed unbelievable heights and ran down into hollows so deep you felt she could never rise up again. Yet in spite of these astonishing depths she did climb up the side of the next wave, go over the crest, and so begin once more – right up and down again and again. I held the tiller with both hands; and once, when I saw an even bigger wave coming I thought I should steer a little against it. No doubt I moved too fast, because just as we cut it, I shipped a great deal of water. The whole boat was aswim. There must have been about three foot of water aboard. Without meaning to I wrenched the boat strongly across the next wave – a very dangerous thing to do – and she leant over so much, almost to the point of turning turtle, that she flung out most of the water we had shipped.
‘Bravo!’ cried Clousiot. ‘You’re a real expert, Papillon! You emptied her straight away.’
I said, ‘You see now how it’s done, don’t you?’
If only he’d known that my lack of experience had very nearly turned us upside down, right out in the open sea! I decided not to struggle against the thrust of the waves any more, not to worry about what course to steer, but just to keep the boat as steady as possible. I took the waves three-quarters on; I let the boat run down and rise just as the sea would have it. Very soon I realized that this was an important discovery and that I’d done away with ninety per cent of the danger. The rain stopped: the wind was still blowing furiously, but now I could see clearly in front and behind. Behind, the sky was clear; in front it was black. We were in the middle of the two.
By about five it was all over. The sun was shining on us again, the breeze was its usual self, the sea had gone down: I hoisted the mainsail and we set off once more, pleased with ourselves. We baled the boat with the saucepans and we brought out the blankets to dry them by hanging them to the mast. Rice, flour, oil and double-strength coffee: a comforting shot of rum. The sun was about to set, lighting up the blue sea and making an unforgettable picture – reddish-brown sky, great yellow rays leaping up from the half-sunk orb and lighting the sky, and the few white clouds, and the sea itself. As the waves rose they were blue at the bottom, then green; and their crests were red, pink or yellow, according to the colour of the rays that hit them.
I was filled with a wonderfully gentle peace; and together with the peace a feeling that I could rely upon myself. I had stuck it out pretty well; this short storm had been very valuable to me. All by myself I had learnt how to handle the boat in such circumstances. I’d look forward to the night with a completely easy mind.
‘So you saw how to empty a boat, Clousiot, did you? You saw how it was done?’
‘Listen, brother, if you hadn’t brought it off, and if another wave had caught us sideways, we’d have sunk. You’re all right.’
‘You learnt all that in the navy?’ said Maturette.
‘Yes. There’s something to be said for a naval training, after all.’
We must have made a great deal of leeway. Who could tell how far we had drifted during those four hours, with a wind and waves like that? I’d steer north-west to make it up: that’s what I’d do. The sun vanished into the sea, sending up the last flashes of its firework display – violet this time – and then at once it was night.
For six more days we sailed on with nothing to worry us except for a few squalls and showers – none ever lasted more than three hours and none were anything like that first everlasting storm.
Ten o’clock in
