Epilogue
When I was only 6 years old, my dear father brought me along on his ship for my first voyage on the sea. It was hardly the adventure I had hoped for; only a merchant trip to the other end of Jamaica, but it had satisfied whatever need I had for the ocean waves surrounding me. It was on that clear August day when we set sail that I had firmly decided my future. I was to be a sailor. But not any ordinary merchant sailor. I would be quite extraordinary in my league, for I, Katherine Rose Van Holden, would be a pirate.
I was so sure of it that I hardly needed to ponder it for long. To own the horizons; to secure myself to a free, untamed life was a dream I never strayed far from, even when my father's sister began to complain of me.
"She lacks the feminine air that would rightfully win her a suitor!" Aunt Grace would mutter, insisting to my father that she could reform me; that she could indeed make me the lady I needed to become. Although I complied with the dancing lessons and occasional dresses, I believed I was already feminine enough. Besides, my father had taught me to read, write and fence early on; the three skills I cared to perfect.
I was 8 when I began biding my time at the harbor. It was rather peaceful; one of the quietist parts of Port Royal, but I had no need for friends. All I wished to do was stare out to the ocean, and watch the ships at the docks. I felt fully content by myself, planning my future in an overly assured manner.
I had but one friend, whom I met at the shipyard. I knew him only as Jackson, unaware of his family name or who his family was at all. I came to understand that they were dreadfully rich people, located somewhere in England. Jackson had sailed with his father to Port Royal on merchant business, by passage through the Bahamas.
Only a few years older than I, he was quite attractive, even in his youth. He had warm dark eyes and short black hair, both attributed to his father, he said. His skin was frequently bronzed by the sun. He spent hours either aboard the docked ship or in town, trading goods from England. After our duties for the day were completed, we would meet at the harbor and head off on some odd adventure. Occasionally we'd head to the hills, or to the vacant flats on the outskirts of town.
Usually we would go to the Cove; a hidden spit of land along the Eastern Coast, which we could reach only after hours of climbing sea rocks from port. It was well-hidden even from sea; a clean little alcove reserved for two children and their dreams.
The rock walls surrounding the beach of it were steep but familiar. Jackson and I knew each crevice to use as a foothold and each secluded hole to use for a hiding place.
One story afternoon, after finally deciding on going to the Cove instead of the hills, we sat quietly on the thin shoreline, watching the horizon as lightening cracked upon it mercilessly.
"I sure wouldn't want to be out sailing in that" Jackson had said, rustling his feet in the cold sand. His eyes held the choppy waves, apparently imagining being aboard a ship in the mess. "I don't think I'd mind much" I admitted. It was true. I believed that sailing in such a storm would be frightfully exciting. He observed me carefully.
"But you're a GIRL. You can't sail".
I frowned. I had heard this statement far too many times. I was too often despising this handicap of being a woman.
"I can too, and I will. I'm going to be a pirate" I said proudly, wrapping my arms around myself and rocking gently as a thin rain began to fall. Jackson secured his weathered hat on his head and paused thoughtfully.
"I'd like to be a pirate alongside you" he said seriously, wiping some raindrops from his brow. I smiled. The thought of Jackson and I on our own pirate ship, sailing to wherever we cared and pillaging our way to freedom was quite pleasant. I cared for him very much, and it was apparent he felt the same for me.
That day we made a pact of sorts. Pricking our thumbs and bleeding together, we swore that when we were older we would marry, and sail together on the Caribbean for as long as we lived. Jackson kissed me that day, and though neither of us knew it at the time, it would be no more than a symbol of goodbyes. Within a week his father was called back to England, and so my dear friend was to set sail with him, leaving me alone with only my dreams as solace.
The day he was to be leaving I stayed with him at the harbor, fighting back the tears I knew would inevitably fall. As his ship, the Sunstroke, weighed anchor and made it's way for the ocean, I could see him aboard the starboard deck.
"Goodbye Kat!" he called, waving fervently from the railing.
"Goodbye Jack!" my voice was nearly lost in the wind as the ship drifted out of the Port Royal harbor.
The future I had eagerly planned seemed so very empty at that moment, and I knew I had to come to terms with the life I would almost undoubtedly live. I allowed Aunt Grace to take me to tea. I wore dresses and corsets and read only in the solitude of my bedroom. But no matter how much I attempted to be a lady, I would always have the lingering traces of thoughts in my mind.
I was to be a pirate, and nobody would rob me of that dream.
When I was only 6 years old, my dear father brought me along on his ship for my first voyage on the sea. It was hardly the adventure I had hoped for; only a merchant trip to the other end of Jamaica, but it had satisfied whatever need I had for the ocean waves surrounding me. It was on that clear August day when we set sail that I had firmly decided my future. I was to be a sailor. But not any ordinary merchant sailor. I would be quite extraordinary in my league, for I, Katherine Rose Van Holden, would be a pirate.
I was so sure of it that I hardly needed to ponder it for long. To own the horizons; to secure myself to a free, untamed life was a dream I never strayed far from, even when my father's sister began to complain of me.
"She lacks the feminine air that would rightfully win her a suitor!" Aunt Grace would mutter, insisting to my father that she could reform me; that she could indeed make me the lady I needed to become. Although I complied with the dancing lessons and occasional dresses, I believed I was already feminine enough. Besides, my father had taught me to read, write and fence early on; the three skills I cared to perfect.
I was 8 when I began biding my time at the harbor. It was rather peaceful; one of the quietist parts of Port Royal, but I had no need for friends. All I wished to do was stare out to the ocean, and watch the ships at the docks. I felt fully content by myself, planning my future in an overly assured manner.
I had but one friend, whom I met at the shipyard. I knew him only as Jackson, unaware of his family name or who his family was at all. I came to understand that they were dreadfully rich people, located somewhere in England. Jackson had sailed with his father to Port Royal on merchant business, by passage through the Bahamas.
Only a few years older than I, he was quite attractive, even in his youth. He had warm dark eyes and short black hair, both attributed to his father, he said. His skin was frequently bronzed by the sun. He spent hours either aboard the docked ship or in town, trading goods from England. After our duties for the day were completed, we would meet at the harbor and head off on some odd adventure. Occasionally we'd head to the hills, or to the vacant flats on the outskirts of town.
Usually we would go to the Cove; a hidden spit of land along the Eastern Coast, which we could reach only after hours of climbing sea rocks from port. It was well-hidden even from sea; a clean little alcove reserved for two children and their dreams.
The rock walls surrounding the beach of it were steep but familiar. Jackson and I knew each crevice to use as a foothold and each secluded hole to use for a hiding place.
One story afternoon, after finally deciding on going to the Cove instead of the hills, we sat quietly on the thin shoreline, watching the horizon as lightening cracked upon it mercilessly.
"I sure wouldn't want to be out sailing in that" Jackson had said, rustling his feet in the cold sand. His eyes held the choppy waves, apparently imagining being aboard a ship in the mess. "I don't think I'd mind much" I admitted. It was true. I believed that sailing in such a storm would be frightfully exciting. He observed me carefully.
"But you're a GIRL. You can't sail".
I frowned. I had heard this statement far too many times. I was too often despising this handicap of being a woman.
"I can too, and I will. I'm going to be a pirate" I said proudly, wrapping my arms around myself and rocking gently as a thin rain began to fall. Jackson secured his weathered hat on his head and paused thoughtfully.
"I'd like to be a pirate alongside you" he said seriously, wiping some raindrops from his brow. I smiled. The thought of Jackson and I on our own pirate ship, sailing to wherever we cared and pillaging our way to freedom was quite pleasant. I cared for him very much, and it was apparent he felt the same for me.
That day we made a pact of sorts. Pricking our thumbs and bleeding together, we swore that when we were older we would marry, and sail together on the Caribbean for as long as we lived. Jackson kissed me that day, and though neither of us knew it at the time, it would be no more than a symbol of goodbyes. Within a week his father was called back to England, and so my dear friend was to set sail with him, leaving me alone with only my dreams as solace.
The day he was to be leaving I stayed with him at the harbor, fighting back the tears I knew would inevitably fall. As his ship, the Sunstroke, weighed anchor and made it's way for the ocean, I could see him aboard the starboard deck.
"Goodbye Kat!" he called, waving fervently from the railing.
"Goodbye Jack!" my voice was nearly lost in the wind as the ship drifted out of the Port Royal harbor.
The future I had eagerly planned seemed so very empty at that moment, and I knew I had to come to terms with the life I would almost undoubtedly live. I allowed Aunt Grace to take me to tea. I wore dresses and corsets and read only in the solitude of my bedroom. But no matter how much I attempted to be a lady, I would always have the lingering traces of thoughts in my mind.
I was to be a pirate, and nobody would rob me of that dream.