Chapter 2 BELFAST IRELAND JANUUARY 1898
In the aftermath of the young boy's death, I slowly began to overcome my grief.
I didn't know the boy but I felt as though I was his mother and grieved as such.
"It's a pity you don't wear clothes Oceanic." Olympic said. "Why's that?" I asked.
"So then you could wear a black dress with black shoes and a black veil over your face to hide your tears." Olympic replied.
"With black earrings and a black parasol to protect my skin from the sun." I added. We both laughed. "Yes, precisely." Olympic agreed.
I smiled fondly at my sister. Olympic had a way of seeing the sunlight in even the darkest of times.
"Everything has a silver lining sis, everything." She said as though she read my mind, which she could.
That was one of the things about sister ships. They shared common ground, no matter what their line and could sense each other's thoughts and feelings.
"Let's play Worst Case Scenario." I suggested. Olympic rolled her eyes. "You really are one little pessimist this morning aren't you?" She asked.
I shrugged. "Alright, you first though." She agreed.
"I'm out at sea in a storm." I said. "What kind of storm?" Olympic asked.
"A fierce storm, a November hurricane in the North Atlantic." I replied. "Ok, what are the conditions like?" Olympic asked.
"150 mph winds and 40 foot seas, with rogue waves up to 60 or 70 feet in height." I replied.
"Ok, are you traveling into the waves or are you in the trough?" Olympic asked. "Trough obviously." I replied with a snort.
"Why are you there?" Olympic asked. "I'm rescuing people from a lifeboat." I replied.
"Why are you conducting a rescue?" Olympic asked. "Another ship, about 10 miles away, is calling for help with their Morse lamp." I replied.
"What ship is it?" Olympic asked. "Lucania." I replied.
The Cunard leader currently held the Blue Riband, the speed record for the fastest westbound and eastbound Atlantic crossings.
It was a prestigious prize that guaranteed the holder and her line a loyal passenger following and therefore a profit. I intended to win it for White Star when I had the chance.
"Boy you are prejudiced aren't you?" Olympic asked. "No, it's just Lucania has something that I want." I replied.
"Well you are fast enough, go for it as soon as you have the chance sis." Olympic encouraged me. "Oh I will, and I'll be sure to slap the thing in Lucania's face when I earn it for White Star." I promised.
"Be careful, you may be bigger than Lucania but she knows how to throw a punch." Olympic warned.
"Only because she's been taking lessons from HMS Acorn." I replied.
HMS Acorn was a Blake-class armored cruiser commissioned in 1890. She became leader in 1897 when HMS Die Gratia stepped down. Last I heard she was in Ireland.
Although Acorn had been in control of the Royal Navy for less than a year, she proved to be a highly capable, confident leader. More importantly, she was open minded and a supporter of change.
Plus, when faced with a task that she needed help with, she often asked the Merchant Marine for assistance.
Most of the time, we were ignored and shunned aside by the navy because we were merchant and as such, were considered inferior to His Majesty's Navy.
When Lucania approached her for some help on her fighting skills, Acorn was happy to help the Cunard leader.
Things had been intense between White Star and Cunard and although war between the two lines had not been declared yet, I got the feeling it soon would be.
War in the merchant fleets and more specifically between rival lines was not the kind of warfare you may know with the battleships and their guns or later with the carriers and their planes.
It was more restrained. Unlike traditional warfare with weapons like guns or cannons, line warfare was a series of challenges for every ship.
For the fastest in the line, it was a race for the Riband. For the strongest, it was a load contest to see who could carry and pull the heaviest load for the longest time. Other tests including ones in ingenuity, balance, bravery, and intelligence were commonplace.
It may sound like a bunch of games but it isn't. The only rule is that there are no rules and its do whatever you have to do to win. If ships want to play dirty, they can play dirty.
I'd heard stories of ships who got into a fight over who was the fastest. One was between White Star leader Atlantic, who was then just a crosser, and Cunard liner Cuba.
It was an hour long fight but it was obvious who had won that round. Cuba had a broken and bloody nose, four cracked ribs and seven broken ones as well as three fractured masts.
Atlantic emerged with only a bloody nose and a dislocated rib. The race was called off as Atlantic was declared the winner of the pre-start fight.
Sometimes, ships never had to face each other in a contest, they'd just go at it with teeth and props and declare who was winner afterwards.
I hoped a war like this would never happen between the lines while I was around. It may not be a big gun naval battle but as with all wars, ships still got hurt, and some were even killed.
In the last war between the lines, which ended just a decade ago in 1888, then White Star leader Belgic was killed. Her deputy, Atlantic became leader at the end of the war two months later.
"If Lucania starts trouble she'll find us ready and waiting for her." I muttered.
"You sound like a leader Oceanic." Atlantic said as she entered the harbor. "Oh, high Atlantic, I didn't know you were coming today." I said.
Atlantic shrugged. "Why not, there's nothing to do in Liverpool anyway." She replied.
"Nothing?" I asked. "Not today anyway. Well other than Arabic's complaints about the herb wasters that is." She said.
Arabic was the old fleet healer and herb wasters was her favorite nickname for sailboats.
It suited them nicely, the things were careless, dumb, and always getting themselves hurt somehow.
"If you ever want to hurt anyone just ask a sailboat how to do it." Olympic said.
Atlantic grinned. "Talk to the experts you mean?" She asked. Olympic nodded.
"Good advice Olympic, I'll remember that next time I want to teach Lucania a lesson." Atlantic replied. Olympic ducked her head shyly and I laughed.
"You might not have to wait long, I hear that she's gearing up for another round." I said. Atlantic sighed.
"Does she ever learn anything?" She asked. "The only thing she's learned is how to fight." I replied.
"Acorn?" Atlantic asked. I nodded. "Greeaattt." Atlantic emphasized sarcastically.
"That's just what we need, a Cunard liner who knows how to fight navy style." She muttered.
"I could handle her for ya." I said. "Thanks for the offer Oceanic but I'd rather take her down a peg myself." Atlantic replied.
I shrugged. "When are you launched?" She asked me. "In a year." I replied.
"Hmm, I'll be here." Atlantic promised. "Will you?" I asked.
"But of course, it's not every day that a new breed of ship is born. Besides, just because I'm leader doesn't mean that I think I'm above it." Atlantic replied.
"I never believed you were above anything Atlantic." I assured her. Atlantic smiled.
"Tell me about the '70's." I begged her. "Another story?" Atlantic asked.
"Yes please." I replied. "Are you sure I don't bore you?" Atlantic asked. "Hardly, I love learning more history." I replied, settling down to listen.
"Well alright then. The '70's eh?" She asked. "Yes." I said hopefully. "Hmm, well a lot of things were going on at the time. Tayleur had just sunk in less than a year after White Star acquired her.
"The Cunard Line was changing leadership as Java died and Lucania took her place. And of course, there was the Mary Celeste fiasco in Gibraltar." Atlantic said.
"The salvage case?" I asked. "Yes, Die Gratia's crew was suspected of foul play." Atlantic replied.
"But why, they did nothing wrong?" I said.
"The court in Gibraltar didn't think so. They were convinced that Die Gratia's crew had killed Mary Celeste's crew to claim the salvage rights." Atlantic explained.
I snorted. "Typical courts, always looking for things that aren't there." I muttered.
"It helps solve cases, looking at every angle, so I wouldn't complain if I were you." Atlantic said sternly.
"I'm not." I muttered. "So what was going on with Mary Celeste during all this?" I asked.
"That's difficult to say, there wasn't much recorded about what testimony she gave. Plus, she was too distressed about it to say much." Atlantic replied.
"Distressed how?" I asked. "How do you think? She'd just lost her crew in the middle of the night during a storm." Atlantic replied.
"You mean she was grieving and refused to talk about it." I said. "Yes, Die Gratia did managed to get some information out of her though." Atlantic said.
"And what did she say?" I asked curiously. "She said that the crew had abandoned ship with the thought of returning. They'd tied off to her when the storm suddenly came up and snapped the line. They tried to row to her but the winds carried Celeste away faster than they could move." Atlantic replied.
"And what did she do?" I asked. "Celeste tried to turn around but the wind and waves were too strong, they kept pushing her away from her crew." Atlantic said.
"She said that the last words that she ever heard her captain say were 'Don't turn around, I'm followin' the family tradit'n'."
"And what was that?" I asked. "Being lost at sea. The Briggs family always lost someone out there and Benjamin was merely following in his kin's footsteps." Atlantic replied.
"Poor Benjamin." I muttered. "And poor Celeste, she never recovered from this. She'd convinced herself it was her fault." Atlantic replied.
"Did you meet her?" I asked. "I did in New York once. This was in 1880, a few years before she was scuttled." Atlantic replied.
I looked impressed at this but Atlantic went on. "She was a bitter, angry ship then Oceanic. She wanted nothing to do with anybody. If anything, it was because she was afraid she'd hurt them." She said.
"But she was a good ship, she wouldn't harm anyone on purpose would she?" I asked.
"Not on purpose no. But it was clear from the beginning she was cursed. When she was launched from Dewis yard in 1861 as Amazon, she refused to move for three days. On her maiden voyage her captain died and she ran aground six years later." Atlantic replied.
"Anyone who trusted her, put their faith in her, it always ended badly for them." She said.
"Did you talk to her though?" I asked. Atlantic nodded. "I did. I didn't try and convince her of her innocence, she was beyond help for that. But I did work with her a little, showing her that she could still have friends. But it was no good." She sighed.
"What happened?" I asked. "When we were steaming off the coast of New York, a terrible storm came up. I was nearly run onto the rocks and would've been if Celeste hadn't rescued me. She told me to never come near her again and I didn't." Atlantic replied.
"Did you want to?" I asked. "Oh yes, and I did try to several times but she would just ignore me and glare. She never spoke to me again and after a while I gave up. There was no point in trying any longer." Atlantic said.
"Do you miss her?" I asked. Atlantic's eyes flashed with pain.
"Yes, very much so. Every day I regret my decision, I know that if I'd just kept at it, she'd come around and would die a happy ship. Instead, she died bitter and angry over what she'd done and never realized that she mattered to anyone, I'll never forgive myself for that." Atlantic bowed her head.
Reaching out, I touched my bow to my leader's side. "Mary Celeste knew how much you cared, maybe in the end she realized she wasn't alone after all." I murmured.
Atlantic raised her head to look at me. "You think so?" She asked. "Certainly." I replied confidently.
"I sure hope you're right, she was so lonely when I found her." Atlantic murmured.
"Thank you for sharing this with me, I know it wasn't easy for you." I said. Atlantic smiled. "You're welcome, I like a ship with curiosity. It's important to know the past so we don't make the same mistakes we did then." She said.
I nodded. "Wise words Atlantic, I'll keep them in mind." I said. "I know you will." Atlantic replied.
Yowling interrupted us. The group of sailboats that had been sleeping moments before were now engaging in a furious game of tug-a-war with a mooring line.
"Give that back, it's mine!" One said. "No, it's mine" said another.
Atlantic rolled her eyes. "I better go and break that up." She sighed. "Can't have Arabic complaining about more wasted herbs." She turned around and sailed off.
I could hear her snapping at the arguing sailboats.
"HEY, THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH NOW CLEAR OUT THE LOT OF YA!" She yowled. Olympic laughed.
"I'll say one thing about Atlantic, she sure does know how to break up a fight." She said. "Indeed she does." I muttered.
I nuzzled my sister. "I'm lucky to have you here with me Olympic." I murmured. "No, I'm lucky to have you Oceanic." Olympic replied.
I smiled. "I love you." I whispered. "I know, and I love you." Olympic replied. I pressed against her and Olympic pressed back.
Side by side, we watched and listened to the beelike sounds of the hive that was the Harland and Wolff shipyard.
