Garrison Fields

Chapter 10 - A tragedy

Good thoughts are transient memories, those we would try to forget usually take the shape of the blackest moments of our existence. It is these burdens which we carry along life's path. They are events, which may strengthen or destroy.

It was in these sorrowful days after the funeral, that life continued as usual. The spring turning to summer and then to a wet and miserable autumn, which in turn had given way to a cold biting winter and the dawning of 1907. It was a particularly hard start to the New Year, the snow laying hard in great drifts. The men in the docks, huddled when possible around their braziers. "Oh, to be a blacksmith on days like these." That was their cry, but it was not their lot. Nor was it the lot of Albert and Derek as they went down to their boat tied up at the wharf.

The wharf was made of grey granite and the steps leading down to the wooden jetty were mossy with the slime that crept up from the tide mark, a treacherous place to be at the best of times and always a place to have full concentration. Since the funeral, business had been very slow Albert's mind had not been on it. However, this morning he felt that things would change, the heavy heart that he had, was not fully lifted, but he was now becoming accustomed to his grief and had begun to accept it.

Derek as was his habit, had stopped at the General Wolf's off-door that morning. The snow was laying thick against the wall as Derek looked to drop his ropes and boat hook by the wall, Albert stopped him.

Here man, stick it o'er mi shoulder.' He obliged, that was fortunate. Derek didn't fancy running to catch him up down that cobbled bank in the snow and ice. He smiled.

'The General would salute you, if he wasn't a pub!' With these parting comments he joined his queue of contemporaries. Albert had taken the heavy ropes and boat hooks, rather than them being dropped into the snow. He was beholding to Derek in the past months, it had been Derek who had pulled more than his weight and never complained.

He was now fully laden, with the weight of the ropes propelling him faster than usual. He made his way down to the quay, sliding and nearly losing his footing several times. The extra equipment was heavy, but he was strong enough to carry it and more if needed. The arrangement of the ropes was awkward and nearly, but not quite, got the better of him on more than one occasion. He wanted to make sure he got to the boat before Derek this morning, it was a matter of pride for him, so again he increased his speed, till he was nearly skating down the hill with his load. This made him slip several more times, though he always righted himself, hob nail boots were perhaps not the most suitable footwear for ice and snow, but they were the only good durable footwear available to working men such as himself.

By the time the quay side was reached, he was perspiring under his load. Stopping short of the quay steps, he looked down at the treacherous descent in front of him and pondered for a second on whether to relinquish some of his load and attempt more than one trip. No, the sooner he was down the better. The metal rings that protruded from the quay wall were rusted and the heavy rope that had once been fixed to them had long since turned green and rotted away. Only traces of the heavy knots were now visible and frayed strands from these.

The decision was made. The steps were covered in snow, but that was good, surely there couldn't be any ice underneath. He now took the first steps placing his boot on the third step a combination of: his hob nailed boots, the snow, the hidden ice, the moss and the extra weight he was carrying all served their purpose at once. He frantically tried to regain his footing, there was nothing he could do to save himself within an instant the extra weight he was carrying took him like a pendulum over the edge of steps, his fingers frantically reaching for the wall where the non-existent safety rope used to hang. He shouted,

'Jesus - Derek, Derek.' There was nothing there though, neither the rope nor Derek. Down he crashed, the weight taking him headfirst into their boat. There he lay, senseless, twisted amongst the assortment of equipment arrayed where it fell.