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‘You handled that well,’ said Olivia to Elisabet, as she stepped out from behind the desk.
‘I wish I could have helped more,’ she said in her clipped Scandinavian accent. ‘But as I said, the cruise is at capacity. Sara has been working hard to make sure we don’t have a single empty berth.’
‘Must be a lot for you to juggle.’
‘I am glad. It’s been a hard industry to work in these past few years, but a full ship is a very good sign things are picking up.’ She guided Olivia up several flights of stairs, past the level with the art gallery, gift shop and library, then the next with the Panorama lounge and the restaurant, before they reached the top, where there was a sky bar – and also the entrance to the bridge.
Elisabet knocked before signalling for Olivia to enter. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I have to leave you here to make sure the boarding goes smoothly. The captain will ring down when it is time to collect you.’
‘Oh, OK.’
Elisabet nodded, then she trotted down the stairs again, leaving Olivia alone to step into the bridge.
‘Ah, Miss Campbell?’ The captain had a melodic Italian accent and welcomed her in with a wave. His sun-kissed skin seemed to glow against the crisp whiteness of his uniform, and his thick black hair was slicked back from his forehead. ‘I am Captain Enzo. A pleasure to meet you.’
‘Please, call me Olivia.’ There was something comforting about seeing the inner workings of the ship so outwardly on display. It felt reassuringly complicated – the masses of dials and buttons, the gigantic steering wheel in the centre, the thick volumes of binders and logs, the gentle beeps and flashing lights emanating from various bits of electronic equipment. This is what it should take to run a vessel through ice-infested and stormy waters. Anything simpler would have felt wrong. It was miles away from the cockpits of the yachts she used to sail in with her dad. While some of the equipment was familiar, she was happy to see not only the state-of-the-art electronics, but the multitude of people on the bridge monitoring it all.
And Captain Enzo oozed competence. Olivia recognized that immediately. She used to bristle at that word being used to describe her – competent – as if it implied that she was somehow boring or merely good enough. Nothing exceptional. But that wasn’t true. It was a more valuable trait than she’d ever realized. Burnout had shown her that. It had stripped her of competency, leaving her feeling inept and useless, unable to perform the most basic tasks that had been asked of her. Now she wanted nothing more than a ship captain who was competent.
‘Elisabet tells me that you suffer from a fear of water.’
Olivia winced. ‘Well, actually it’s a boat thing, rather than water itself.’
The captain raised one of his bushy eyebrows. ‘Oh? Did something happen?’
‘I used to sail quite a lot with my family. But there was an accident while we were on a yacht and …’ The rest of the sentence choked in her throat, as she blinked back the memory.
The captain’s voice softened. ‘Well, as you can see, this is a very different kind of vessel to a sailing yacht,’ he said. His gaze was steady on her, thoughtful and penetrating. ‘Let me show you around. If you have some sailing experience, maybe it will be useful to know how things work.’
‘I would appreciate that,’ she said.
She was astounded by the captain’s patience as he showed her around the various controls and introduced his crew. Much of it she knew already – she’d read the ship’s spec a dozen times – but it was comforting to hear nonetheless.
As the captain showed off the electronic chart pilot, the first mate interrupted them. ‘Excuse me, Captain, but we have an updated weather forecast. You might want to take a look at this system coming in from the Pacific.’
Captain Enzo nodded. ‘If you don’t mind, Olivia, I need to prepare for our departure. But we have an open-bridge policy on board. If you need anything, or have any questions, please don’t hesitate to come back here.’
‘You are too kind,’ she replied. Before she could say more, the captain and his first officer stepped away, theirheads together over the weather radar. Elisabet had returned – that woman must have a sixth sense for when things needed to be done on the ship, or maybe the captain had sent some kind of signal without her knowing – and gestured for Olivia to follow. But not before she caught wind of a few key words between the two men.Storm approaching.
She stared out of the window, away from the docile shoreline of Ushuaia, out towards the Beagle Channel, which led to the infamous Drake Passage. She thought back to Ingrid’s words about the ‘Drake Shake’. Maybe more than words – a premonition, perhaps. For now the waters still looked calm, the sky a muted grey peppered with cloud. No big dark storm clouds on the horizon. No monster waves.
Not yet.
Just as they were about to leave the bridge, the captain called out to the cruise director. ‘Elisabet, are we set to sail?’
She unhooked her iPad from beneath her arm. ‘We boarded the final passenger about ten minutes ago.’
‘Excellent,’ he said. He gave a signal to one of his officers, who jumped to his feet.
Elisabet touched Olivia’s forearm. ‘Come. I’ll show you to your cabin.’
Olivia nodded, feeling her stomach churn. Seeing the bridge had been a kind idea from Elisabet – and the captain had been so generous with his time – but she could feel the physical symptoms of her fear beginning to take over as the officers on board began to prepare for departure, buzzing around the bridge like bees. Her breathing became shallower, her heart racing.
‘Are you OK?’ Elisabet frowned with concern when she noticed Olivia was trailing behind her, gripping on to the banister with white knuckles. ‘I can take you to our medical bay …’
‘No, the cabin is fine. You said everyone is now on board, right? I just need to see Aaron.’
‘Of course. You are down on the fourth deck. Just a few more flights.’ Elisabet led the way. ‘Here’s your cabin. Number sixteen.’