Вадим Иванович Кучеренко - Sailors’ Shelter

world if she fell in love with him. But if she didn’t fall in love — all is in vain, no matter if you were rich Croesus, or, for example, this flag-pole, everything is the same for her. Do you remember the skipper from the "Swift" ship? What a guy he was! Not a patch on you! But even he left with nothing.

Indeed, even the boatswain cannot afford to quarrel with the ship’s cook.

— Well, actually, I don’t argue, Alexander Petrovich — said Misha, breathing with relief. — I tell you, she is no match for me, she is out of my league to run after.

— You are quite right, a fat chance you have of winning! — the cook confirmed patronizingly. And a moment later he added in a such a low voice, that only the sailors nearby could hear him. — I know one lucky guy to whom she gave her heart. Well, but he flatly refused this gift.

The listeners got excited surrounding him tightly, they asked not to torment them and tell everything as it was, if he had hinted anyway. Alexander Petrovich puffed a couple of times with his pipe, then put a warning finger to his lips and nodded mysteriously in the direction of the captain's bridge.

— Once I heard her conversation with our captain, — he began his story. — We were staying in the port, filling the ship’s hold with cargo. I went out on deck to smoke my evening pipe. It was getting dark already. Everyone around was fussing, running to and fro… I felt like if Saint Peter himself, the sailors’ patron saint had appeared on deck, no one would have paid attention to him. Well, I noticed her from a distance. One can't hide such beauty under any hat, no matter how much one tries. Her long black hair were shining like a raven's wing… Tall, willowy, sharp she was, like a flamenco dancer. I saw such women in Spain in the days of my youth. God forbid, to stand in her way, and even worse — to fall in love with her …

The cook got silent for a while, thinking about something, he even forgot about his pipe. The sailors did not rush him, realizing that he had accidently touched some hidden strings in his soul, awakened some forgotten memories, and if they interrupted him — they would never hear the story up to the end. But just have a little patience — and everything would return to normal condition. So, it happened just like that. The next moment Alexander Petrovich released a fragrant cloud of smoke, and started talking again.

— So, she sneaked up to our ship, waited for a right moment and, like a cat, slid down the ladder, and then ran straight to the captain's cabin. Whether he was waiting for her or not, I don’t know for sure. But he didn’t immediately drive her away, which means that there was something between them, that’s for sure. Well, I know our captain better than any of you, lubbers. He would never tolerate a woman on board the ship for a single minute. But with that lady, he had been talking about something for about half an hour. I saw the flickering light through the viewport of his cabin — so he was nervously pacing, explaining something to her. While she was silently listening to him, standing still, without interruption. And this is a clear sign that a woman loves desperately. She had been listening to him for some time and then turned around silently and left the cabin. So pale she was and unhappy, trembling all over, as if she was going to faint. I was about to support her, so that she would not fall right on deck, but she pushed me away, so tough that I could hardly stand on my feet. Then she ran down the ladder and disappeared in the darkness, as if it were not a woman, but a spirit, a Spanish duende.

The old sailor got silent again and puffed with his pipe.

— And what about our captain? — asked the boatswain Misha impatiently. — What happened to him?

— The next morning he drowned himself, — Alexander Petrovich told his joke calmly, releasing a cloud of smoke. Have you forgotten?

There were chuckles all around. However, the boatswain did not let up.

— If you don’t know, just say that, — he urged the cook on.

It worked out well. Alexander Petrovich snorted dismissively, but satisfied his curiosity.

— Since that evening, our captain hasn't been to the Sailor's Shelter any more. He used to be a regular visitor there, but now he walks a mile around this tavern. But I see how hard it takes him. He got thin in his face, he never smiled. However, he holds tight. That's how he was born. Real sailor. For him, the ship is his home, and the sea is his wife. And it will always be like that, not another way. That's why he is Captain Luck. But if he betrayed the sea with an earthly woman — that would be the end of his luck. Then his ship would go to the bottom at once, or some even worse things would happen The sea is jealous, it does not forgive betrayal. There is a certain reason that in Spanish language the word "sea" is feminine…

The cook paused for a while, and then said with a conviction that made the hardened hearts of the sailors tremble with anticipation:

— So don’t forget, guys, to pray that our captain does not get along with that beauty. Well, the others are not harmful for him, he is not that type of person…

The sailors hummed excitedly, trying to comprehend what he had just said.

— What are they talking about? asked the chief mate, nodding at the talking sailors.

The captain adjusted his telescope and shrugged.

— They might be discussing which port tavern they will visit when they go ashore, — the chief mate took a guess himself. — And what would you advise, Anton Ivanovich?

— "Sailor's Shelter," the captain said briefly. And he kept examining the shore through his telescope. And when the chief mate was about to leave to join the crew considering the conversation was over, Platov unexpectedly added: — I am thinking of visiting this tavern myself. Maybe tonight…

But it was uttered very quietly, as if the captain was talking to himself. Therefore, the chief mate did not hear and asked him:

— What did you say, captain?

The captain didn't answer. Deep in his own thoughts, he did not even hear the question. And the chief mate left.

The waves were gently striking at the sides of the ship, rocking it like a baby's cradle. Well-fed seagulls lazily took off the sea and immediately descended, indifferent to everything in the world. The sun was shining, promising a fine warm evening.

A boat with a marine pilot approached the ship. The sailors, free from the watch, were looking forward to how they would go ashore to the port taverns in search of entertainment and love. They were joyfully talking about what would happen to them that evening, and how it would affect their future lives.

And the Lord God was looking from heaven at them laughing.

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