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if those who should know better don’t, there’s nothing they can do if a volunteer happens to ask questions or take a few pictures behind my back now is there?’
    I glared at him.
    ‘Volunteer?’
    ‘You are here as my protection David. I need someone else onboard to look after the captain if things get out of hand. You, my son, are it. That’s as good as it’s going to get. It’s a one-shot deal I’m afraid.’
    He opened the driver side door and stepped down.
    ‘That is,’ he said, ‘if you still want this story?’

    ***

    ‘I’m sorry, who is it?’ Joe asked the caller on my mobile phone.
    ‘Yasmin? Hold one moment please,’ he said in his best telephone voice. ‘David, it’s Yasmin, she wants to talk to you.’
    I waved a fist at him and then jammed my head back over the motor boat’s stern, dry retching into the reflected heat of the sun.
    ‘Yasmin, I’m afraid he’s otherwise indisposed at the moment, we’re on a boat heading out to sea and, well, he’s a bit worse for wear. Can he call you back? You’ll call him? In 15 minutes? Okay, you can try my dear, but where we’re going he may not have a signal.’
    ‘What’s that? He has to answer? Okay well, I’ll be sure to tell him that…oh…we’ve been cut off,’ he said, handing the phone back to me. ‘Feisty,’ he added.
    We sped across the water and slammed into each wave with a hard thud, I nearly dropped the phone. As the speed increased the distance between swells shortened and the rapid-fire tempo quickened, testing the fragile peace between my stomach and its contents.
    I wanted to shout, ‘Slow down,’ but couldn’t get the words out.
    ‘You know the worst thing for sea sickness is alcohol, tiredness and dehydration,’ he said over my shoulder, ‘you haven’t had any coffee this morning have you?’
    I couldn’t move, even to look at him and curse, if I moved it would start all over again.
    ‘Not to worry,’ he said, ‘we’ll soon have you off. Nick,’ he called to the helm, ‘Can this thing go any faster?’

    ***

    The sickness lifted as I clambered up the precarious little rope ladder that hung over the side of the ship. The steep climb and the constant movement of the waves triggered a welcome rush of adrenaline as I swung a foot out to stop myself crashing into the Peri’s hull.
    The Filipino crewman hauled me over the top rung and then pulled Joe up beside me. He looked healthy and happy. I scowled at him.
    ‘Oh what a look!’ he said. ‘Listen, you take a few minutes to get yourself together. Dakila here is going to take me to the first mate so I can patch him up, we’ll be right back.’ He held out another bottle of water and smiled when I took it.
    Then I was alone on deck. But that ageing hulk felt like dry land compared to the motorized skipping stone we’d arrived in. I wandered over to the edge of the ship to look at it. Nick motored back and forth keeping position beside us. He gave me a casual salute and then moved off to a safer distance. When I lifted my hand from the side to gesture back it was coated in large flakes of rust and dark paint.
    I explored the deck of a boat that had once been colored blue, black and white but had deteriorated into a dull patina of dark metallic ochre and smeared orange. Handfuls of crumbling metalwork pulled away in my hands. Even a minor puncture in the rusted hull would take care of the owner’s outstanding paperwork, and the crew.
    I leaned against a relatively rust free hatch on the side of the bridge tower and drank deeply from the bottle, willing the cold fluid to make me feel better.
    If only I’d ignored his call. I’d be in bed already. Without a story I reminded myself. Thank god for Holy Joe, the mixed blessing.
    My phone only registered one fluctuating pip of signal strength. Yasmin’s needs would have to wait for dry land.
    I pulled my shoulder bag round from my hip and set up for the job ahead. Keeping it simple, I’d chosen a digital voice