Martin, Vittorio, and George trace Starkweather's gaze and, in the hellish red and yellow glow of the fire, they see a steel-rope cargo sling dangling level with the ship's side, about six feet away from the bulwarks. Five drums of gasoline are suspended there, held over the river of fire like some disastrous popcorn popper. On deck, another fifteen drums stand about the open number two hatch, and many more are already stored below.
It is obvious that if the drums in the sling explode from the heat, the flames they produce may set off the drums already aboard the
Gabrielle.
First Officer Turlow snaps an oath and leaps for the bridge, as his remaining ondeck crew begin to cast off the lines holding the Gabrielle to the pier. Starkweather turns to Martin, Vittorio, and George and yells above the din,
"Come on, lads!", as he sprints down the ramp to the deck.
"Follow me! To the winch!"
Starkweather yells and grabs at the few last fleeing stevedores.
"Cowards!" he cries,
"Help us fight this thing!" A huge burly fellow snarls and smashes a fist to Starkweather's jaw, and the commander drops to the deck.
Link to U.S.S. Gabrielle Floorplans - Full Ship
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Job (the tortured one).
