The Cay Read Free

men on them were leaning over the rail watching all the activity on the
Empire Tern
.
    I looked on as the thick hoses that were attached to her quivered when the gasoline was pumped into her tanks. The fumes shimmered in the air, and one by one, they “topped” her tanks, loading them right to the brim and securing them for sea. No one said very much. With all that aviation gasoline around, it was dangerous.
    Then in the afternoon, we went to Punda and stood near the pontoon bridge as she steamed slowly down St. Anna Bay. Many others had come to watch, too, even the governor, and we all cheered as she passed, setting out on her lonely voyage to England. There, she would help refuel the Royal Air Force.
    The sailors on the
Empire Tern
, which was painteda dull white but had rust streaks all over her, waved back at us and held up their fingers in a V-for-victory sign.
    We watched until the pilot boat, having picked up the harbor pilot from the
Empire Tern
, began to race back to Willemstad. Just as we were ready to go, there was an explosion and we looked toward the sea. The
Empire Tern
had vanished in a wall of red flames, and black smoke was beginning to boil into the sky.
    Someone screamed, “There it is.” We looked off to one side of the flames, about a mile away, and saw a black shape in the water, very low. It was a German submarine, surfaced now to watch the ship die.
    A tug and several small motorboats headed out toward the
Tern
, but it was useless. Some of the women cried at the sight of her, and I saw men, my father included, with tears in their eyes. It didn’t seem possible that only a few hours before I had been standing on her deck. I was no longer excited about the war; I had begun to understand that it meant death and destruction.
    That same night, my mother told my father, “I’m taking Phillip back to Norfolk.” I knew she’d made up her mind.
    He was tired and disheartened over what had happened to the
Empire Tern
. He did not say much. But I do remember him saying, “Grace, I think you are making a mistake. You are both quite safe herein Scharloo.” I wondered why he didn’t simply order her to stay. But he wasn’t that kind of a man.
    The sunny days and dark, still nights passed slowly during March. The ships had begun to sail again, defying the submarines. Some were lost. Henrik and I often went down to Punda to watch them go out, hoping that they would be safe.
    Neither my father nor my mother talked very much about us leaving. I thought that when two American destroyers arrived, along with the Dutch cruiser
Van Kingsbergen
, to protect the lake tankers, Mother would change her mind. But it only made her more nervous.
    Then one day in early April, she said, “Your father has finally secured passage for us, so today will be your last day in school here, Phillip. We’ll start packing tomorrow, and on Friday, we leave aboard a ship for Miami. Then we’ll take the train to Norfolk.”
    Suddenly, I felt hollow inside. Then I became angry and accused her of being a coward. She told me to go off to school. I said I hated her.
    All that day in school, I tried to think of what I could do. I thought about going somewhere and hiding until the ship had sailed, but on an island the size of Curaçao, there is no place to hide. Also, I knew it would cause my father trouble.
    That night when he got home, I told him I wanted to stay with him. He smiled and put hislong, thin arm around my shoulder. He said, “No, Phillip, I think it is best that you go with your mother. At a time like this, I can’t be at home very much.”
    His voice seemed sad, although he was trying to be cheerful. He told me how wonderful it would be to return to the United States; how many things I had missed while we were on the island. I couldn’t think of one.
    Then I talked to my mother about staying on in Willemstad, and she became very upset with both of us. She said that we didn’t love her and began to cry.
    My father