Peter--Endings

The icebreaker churned its way through the pack ice that lay scattered all about like bits and pieces of shattered white plates.   On the bridge of the ship a small knot of visitors, wrapped up in colourful windproofs and woolly hats, faces partially hidden in sunglasses, were looking and listening to the lecturer.

“Bouvetoya Channel” the lecturer Gary said, arms apart, indicating the islands and icebergs on both sides.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” said Hilary, staring leeward where lay a string of snow-covered islands, whose mountains went plunging into the sea.

“Isn’t that Howlett’s Island?” asked Sandra, rubbing her hands.

“Yes!” said the lecturer in surprise.  “How did you know?”

“Because that’s Mount Cerebus!” exclaimed Julie

They all turned.  Smoke from the dominating volcano that lay at the centre of a grim range was curling up into the peerless blue sky.  Suddenly, they were distracted. A hatch on the poop deck was suddenly flung open and a man’s dishevelled head appeared.

“Tony, come on.  You’re missing this!” cried Hilary.  “Howlett’s Island!”  “Don’t forget your sunglasses, Tony” added Margaret quietly.   “It’s extremely bright up here.”  He shook his head, pulled up his hood  and clambered up the companion ladder to join them.

“Isn’t that the Radex Oil Depot?” asked Catherine.   “Will we be going ashore, Gary?”  “You all know more about this island than me,” admitted Gary with a laugh.   “No, afraid not.  After some disastrous oil exploration that almost ruined the walrus and seal colonies, the island was made a heritage site and no one but an Inuit family is allowed ashore.”

Faces fell.  There was an air of dismay and then surprise when a short, older woman who was not part of the group and standing apart, said emphatically  “I’m glad – very glad.”   She seemed almost to be speaking to herself, as she stared fixedly at the island without turning her head.

Peter studied her carefully.  There was something familiar about the small, wrinkled face.   He walked over to her.  “May I ask why you don’t want to go ashore?”   Without turning, she said, “Because I was a prisoner there”.

Removing her sunglasses, she turned and looked at him.  “Maisie!” he said in astonishment.  He fumbled in his pocket and produced the photo of her on the pier, taking the picture of Nochoska and Ned on the edge of the iceberg.  “This is how it all began, isn’t it?” he asked tentatively.   She nodded.  “ Please take it as a memento” Peter said.  With an enigmatic smile she replaced her sunglasses and extended her hand to take the photo, but a sudden gust of wind snatched it into the air.  Peter rushed to the side to watch it  fluttering  down into the sea.

An excited cry came from the group further along the deck.   “A polar bear!  A polar bear!”   Everyone looked over the side excitedly, cameras at the ready.   At some distance from the ship, floating on a piece of pack ice, a powerful king polar bear was watching the icebreaker sailing by.  “It’s Nochoska” cried Sandra, staring through binoculars.  “How do you know?” demanded Sue.  “The black mark over his right eye.”  “Let me see” said Julie.  “You’re right.”

“My God, he’s waving at us with his right paw!” shouted Tony.   

Everyone shouted exultantly – for, as the ship made its way out of the Bouvetoya Channel into the open sea, Nochoska was saying goodbye…………..