siren song
TRANSCRIPT
Irish Jesuit Province
Siren SongAuthor(s): John GannonSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 75, No. 883 (Jan., 1947), pp. 17-23Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20515595 .
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17
Short Story
Siren Song By John Gannon, S.J.
FOR a moment, framed in the cordage from the main
sail, I saw Gardiner's face. Then the cutter bucked in the swell and left me only the fearful image. Sleepless nights
had trampled on every feature. In the half-light his skin shone
palely white against an unkempt stubble of beard, and his eyes were dark wells. Fatigue and stark despair had marked him.
Overwhelmingly the question surged in me : Am I, too, pocked and marked? I shuddered in physical pain at the thought and
pushed an unsteady hand across my face. The worst was over
now. The storm was sinking back into the sea, and the inky clouds were breaking just a little at the horizon.
Three days and two nights we were in the grip of storm, the
light cutter tossed by the waves from one mighty shoulder of water to another. The wave crests slapped over our decks and
sloggered by the cabin's head and in the corners. In a bedlam of crashing water and thunder, we clung to tiller and sheets, ever
acutely conscious of the strained creaking of timber and the
shrieking of ttr ^ale among the rigging. South before wind and sea we ran alon^ the Mayo coast, helpless to turn from the course
marked out for us by the storm, hopeless to determine our exact
position. Anxiety and fatigue had turned to apathy the vain efforts we had made to control our ship. Headlong we fled,
bucking and twisting, our safety dependent on no effort of ours,
and now with the sea sinking gradually since morning we had run the channel of Fineman's Bay. On either side slanting
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18 THE IRISH MONTHLY
hills marked the coast-line and long ledges of sharp rock jutted out into the surf and dived under the waves like great sinister claws reaching out to clutch us. But through the rain and the
gk>Om the hills were only darker shapes against the dark clouds and the rock-lines were invisible save for the water that boiled
and frothed around them. The wind was howling down the bay between the hills and driving us all too swiftly along the narrow
channel. We lowered the main-sail and left the jib to the wind. The tide was coming in and the passage was taking a heavy swell.
Once I was knocked flat on my face, tripped by a loose rope's end,
awkward in my oilskins. The sea on the deck rolled me over
and over, and I caught hold of a capstan and got to my feet very much out of breath and out of temper.
Gardiner was hunched up by the tiller, just hanging on. We were in the bay to shelter, and as we nosed further inland I
thought it high time we took soundings and prepared to ride at anchor. Clutching a cable with both hands, I splashed down the
deck towards the tiller. It was then I saw the light. I supposed it was just an ordinary cottage window suddenly visible from
behind some rocky promontory. A small ball of orange light, it glowed unwinkingly, and in the watery air cast a nimbus of
spikey light. It was steady, constant, cheery, everything that
we were not ; it was to us the sign and symbol of our humanity and civilisation. I was buoyed up by its steady glow, and laughed fiercely in the face of the roaring sea. Men lived here. It was
a harbourage. I had seen a light. v Gardiner was steering all the time with an uncanny feel for
the channel. I caught hold of the turn-up of his oilskins, and
yelled in his ear as I pointed towards the light. We came up out
of a trough and ploughing the crest of a huge wave, saw below us
the friendly glow. Then Gardiner had his frenzy. Cool when the danger was at its worst and far from land great waves broke
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SIREN SONG 19
over us, here in the comparative safety of the bay he lost all control. Though my hand was oh his oilskin only, I felt, running through him from head to foot, a sudden wave, a surge of nausea ;
or was it an unhinging fear? Unhesitatingly he jammed the tiller hard down and ran straight for the light. The cutter
swung across in the surge of a wave and then a second wave struck
her broadside and staggered her ; and then another and another.
I shouted and screamed in terror at Gardiner. His eyes were
fixed on the light and his teeth hard clenched as he leaned his
weight on the tiller. I tried to grapple with him, and was almost
Hung overboard by a wave that curled broadside over the beam
and caught me unprepared. We were close up to the shore
now, the light maybe a hundred yards away on our port side. I
steadied myself for another effort. Then the bow lifted sud
denly ; we slipped sideways, and the bow dived low ; the keel
ground and bit, and the cutter shivered and shook. She strained to break forward against the reef, but the bow was jammed tight in a corner of rock. The beam came up with the rise of a
breaker, and Gardiner and I pitched forward down the deck. The bow was almost under water and waves broke steadily over it. I
dragged down the jib, splashing to my knees in the sea-romp. Gardiner was on his knees clutching the cabin head with outspread arms. He was going to be no help now. Big breakers were
rolling up on our beam with deadly shock. Unless the wind
turned, or unless she could hold out till the turn of the tide, the cutter was certain to break up against the rocks under the blows
of the waves. The suck and smash of big waves was loud in here
by the reef, and the wind howled dismally up the coast. We mustn't stay on the cutter. Between us and land lay a hundred
yards of broken water, spuming and boiling. The orange light caught my eye again, and my feelings towards it were altogether
changed. I felt now as Jason felt when first he heard the sirens'
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20 THE IRISH MONTHLY
song. I was blinded with a sudden burst of bitter passion. I
shook my fist and cried out at the light. I was certain that while
we foundered here at their door, the owners of the light were
chatting and laughing to one another above the lashing of the
rain. How long I was shaken by this passion that blinded all
reason, I cannot tell, but I know that soon I was calm as one
may hope to be when life seems washing away on a tide. We
had one hope of safety left us ; one slim chance of escaping the
death that awaited us when the cutter finally broke up and sank. Below decks we kept a round rubber, flat-bottomed rescue craft.
If we should succeed in floating this wide of the crash of water
against the rocks, we stood a fair chance of being brought inshore
by the tide, I got the hatch open and went below. In the
darkness and the enclosed space the storm roared appallingly,
and the strain on the keel and the plates made a harsh rasping
noise. I felt that it was imperative that we should get away at once. On deck again, I dragged the boat out of the swirl of water and up to the stern, rising dry out of the sea. My plan was that we should launch ourselves on a great wave just before
it began to retreat, and be carried out clear of the rocks and the
cutter, and then by luck or perhaps by some manoeuvring with
a paddle, we might gain the flood that was boring up between two reefs to the shore a hundred yards away. If we could keep
ourselves afloat in the suck of the first wave we had an even
chance of getting clear. If we failed?well, it was a matter of
life and death anyway.
As I swung the boat down the deck, the orange light caught my attention. It seemed less steady now, as though someone
within a room were moving a lamp to and fro. Even if we had
sent up a rocket nothing oould have been done for us on a prac
tically deserted bit of coast, and seeing this, I no longer was bitter against those who were safe on the shore. The light
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SIREN SONG 21
bobbed and moved again and I thought now it must ibe a lantern or perhaps a light-buoy that had slipped moorings and was washed
ashore.
I yelled my plan in Gardiner's ear, and then we put it into
act. It isn't easy to describe a terrifying experience that takes
place within a few seconds. At one second, it seemed, we had
launched ourselves on the back of a wave, and immediately we
were whipped away out to sea. Clutching the side-struts of our
rubber boat, I felt that I was being flung upwards and outwards, as in a chairaplane. Breathless, deafened by the roar of the
night, terrified by the walls of water that reared over us on every
side, we were swept into the landward flood. It was impossible to think clearly or to have any account of time ; we simply held on and prayed for safety, and the tide swung us nearer shore with
every wave that raced under us. After a period, long or short I
do not know, I heard a new note in the night's medley, a boom
followed by a long hiss ; waves breaking over sand. I had
scarcely realised this when we were flung flat upon a beach. Before
we could save ourselves a wave rode in breast high and covered
us. I floundered up in the water and found a footing. Gardiner was struggling beside me. Sea water blinded me, rushed up my
nostrils, made me sick. I fought madly to get ashore, tearing
at the water with my hands and thrusting forward with my shoulders. Water was dragging at me. Then it fell away
round me, down to my knees, and I was splashing through
hissing shallows to the higher levels of the beach. I stopped when I reached a bank of grass and heather, and was very sick.
Lying on my back, I laughed helplessly without the least humour to make my laughter bearable, and controlled myself only when I remembered Gardiner and staggered to my feet to find him.
I did not find Gardiner. I struggled up and down the beach, and called his name into the teeth of wind and wave, and there
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22 THE IRISH MONTHLY
was nothing to answer my cries. I commended his soul to God with an earnestness that my prayers had never had before.
" One
shall be taken and one left ". Sick and weary I staggered away from the beach towards the light that had led us to our wreck.
It would be fifty to a hundred yards to the left. When I had
gone two hundred yards or so there was still no sign of light or
cottage. I tried to persuade myself that I had not come far
enough, or that I ought to have turned right, but it was no use.
I had calculated fairly accurately before leaving the cutter the
position of the light in relation to the beach, and it seemed now
that I had overstepped the mark. Yet behind me there had been no sign of cottage or paths or boats, nothing at all to suggest that men had lived here. Surely there would have been a path
way down to the sea? There was none. I made a cast inland
and found still no sign. A bog edged down the hills to sea
level, and covered all the flats back towards the mainland. I turned around and began to make my way southwards across the
breadth of the promontory where the going was free of bog and
quag. Rain dashed against my oil-skins, and frequently,
despite the damp, I lay down in the dark morning hours, when I felt that I could go no further.
The new morning was born on the inland hills, grey and cold.
In faint light I came down from the heights of the promontory to the shore on the southern flank, and saw before me the few
scattered cottages of a fishing community. I must have made a
dreadful figure swaying in the doorway against the grey sky, but the fisherman's wife showed only concern. The house was in a
kind commotion. I was just about asleep on my feet. I
remembered telling some muddled story of the wreck, drinking something very hot, and being hustled into a low soft bed by the fire.
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SIREN SONG 2S
I awoke in the dusk, when the open fire was throwing long fantastic shadows on the walls. The night and its horrors came
back to me in a flash, and I was afraid again. A gentle voice
asked me if I were awake, and feeling better. I raised my head
and saw them all sitting round the fire in a ring, close to the bed.
They gave me something to eat and drink, and I asked them if
Gardiner's body had been found. They were bewildered, so I
told them the whole story, as I set it down here. When I
mentioned the cottage window they shook their heads, and the man of the house said that no one lived or could long live in the
bog, where we had seen the light. I explained then that we
had seen possibly a lantern or a drifting buoy, but still they shook their heads, and the woman of the house said :
*; God be good
to him ".
When I finished there was an electric silence in the little room.
Then the fisherman said: "
This has happened before. On
nights when there are no stars, though the sea be calm enough, boats and men are swallowed up in Fineman's Bay. There
never were signs of wreck. It's said that the helmsman sees a
light on shore, and while he sees it no power can save him from
being drawn towards it, and in upon the rocks on the shore, and
what the water-sprites do is no business of the living." The surf was booming along the beach while the fisherman spoke. It
was like a chorus of assent. I laughed shakily. Men who go to sea are superstitious, and I thanked God that I was really a
landlubber. When the storm passed we stood above the fatal beach, but
there was no trace of Gardiner, no trace of the cutter ; not a
plank, not a rope remained from the wreck. Chilly shivers
chased each other down my spine. I could not speak. I could
scarcely stand. Fineman's Bay smiled in the sun.
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