The Ship’s Curse – Jackie Lane

 My father in law Albert did not like cats In fact he hated them and did not hesitate to tell you at every opportunity. I gave him a birthday card with a picture of a fisherman on the river bank with a fish on his line and a cat on the ledge below waiting to steal it. I also gave him chocolate cats at Christmas and told him to eat one every time he had the urge to chase the cats from his garden. No one knew why he felt so vindictive towards them.

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            The black cat strolled up the gangplank, without hesitation, boarding the ship. The sailor scrubbing the deck watched in horror as it calmly stood in the centre of the deck, with its nose in the air, like a king surveying his kingdom.

            “Oh no,” the seaman gasped rushing down below deck to warn the rest of the crew who were sleeping in their hammocks.

            “A cat! A cat on deck!” he spluttered. The sleeping men were now wide awake staring at him with white faces. These tough burly sailors were very afraid as a cat on a ship was an omen that disaster would befall the ship.

            The ship sailed next morning heading for Rio de Janeiro to collect its cargo of exotic fruits. The crew were carrying out their routine tasks to manoeuvre the ship out of the harbour to face the raging sea ahead. They were too busy to think about the cat. The journey was treacherous. Gales together with torrential rain caused white crested waves to sweep over the bow sending deckhands scurrying for safety.  The morning brought an eerie fog smothering the ship with a claustrophobic blanket.

            Albert who at fourteen was the youngest member of the crew was assisting with the preparation of breakfast. This was a difficult task as he was intermittently thrown across the galley by the swell of the rough seas. He was a capable, resilient young lad who had left home at eleven to train as a seaman. Life was extremely hard for him in this adult dominated world but he survived.

                        Suddenly the ship shook violently sending Albert crashing into the stove. Blood trickled from his forehead. Cooking utensils clattered around the galley as the ship began to roll. Survival was the adrenaline Albert needed to clamber to the deck where he was surrounded by a mass of figures running in all directions. Voices shouted,

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship!”

Albert rushed to find the lifeboats but they were gone. He flung himself over the side gasping as he hit the icy water. Luckily a nearby lifeboat spotted him. The other survivors dragged him over the side to safety as Albert, his mouth full of oily water, looked up at his rescuers and spat out the words “That bloody cat!”