I drained my glass of inferior brandy that Otto had laid on in such meagre quantities and rose. "You'll be here? ","Yes. Most co-operative of you, Doctor, most." "We never close," I said. I was beginning to like Smithy though I hardly knew him or anything about him: I was never to get to know him, not well. That I should ever get to know him in my professional capacity was unthinkable: six feet two in his carpet slippers and certainly nothing short of two hundred pounds, Smithy was as unlikely a candidate for a doctor's surgery as had ever come my way.

In the first-aid cabinet there." Smithy nodded towards a cupboard in a corner of the dimly lit wheelhouse. "Captain Imrie's own private elixir. For emergency use only."

I extracted one of half a dozen bottles held in place by felt-lined spring clamps and examined it under the chart table lamp. My regard for Smithy went up another notch. In latitude 70" something north and aboard a superannuated trawler, however converted, one does not look to End Otard-Dupuy VSOP.

"What constitutes an emergency?" I asked.

"Thirst."

I poured some of the Otard-Dupuy into a small glass and offered it to Smithy who shook his head and watched me as I sampled the brandy then lowered the glass with suitable reverence.

"To waste this on a thirst," I said, "Is a crime against nature. Captain Imrie isn't going to be too happy when he comes up here and finds meknocking back his special reserve."

"Captain Imrie is a man who lives by fixed rules. The most fixed of the lot is that he never appears on the bridge between 8 P.m. and 8 A.M.

Oakley-he's the bosun-and I take turns during the night. Believe me, that way it's safer for everyone all round. What brings you to the bridge, Doctor-apart from this sure instinct for locating VSOP?"

"Duty.