FROM DOVER TO PLYMOUTH, AND BACK
Chapter 1
By Kiddo
~*~ In Loving Memory Of Jonathan Brandis ~*~
A big "Thank you" goes to Snuggles2 for being the person she is and always
being there when I needed her.
Disclaimer:
I don't have any rights to "SeaQuest DSV" or "SeaQuest 2032" and I am not making any money with this story.
This story is a translation of my German story "Von Dover Nach Plymouth Und Zurück".
I had the idea for this story when I read the book "Castaways of the Flying Dutchman," by Brian Jacques. The whole story is inspired by the book and I took a few sentences from the book for the beginning for my story. I did this without permission.
The story takes place with the crew of the first season, the time is 1620.
Lucas Wolenczak has a diffrent last name in my story, his name is Lucas Holt.
I did a ton of resarch for this story. I read history books, song books, books about sailing- ships, pirates and sailing. And I tried to watch everything on TV that I could find about sailing and these things.
A big Thank You goes to my wonderfull beta-reader Jackie.
Feedback and reviews are still the only thing I get for writing. So please review.
***************************************************************************
England 1660:
An old man stood at the gravestone of his good friend. The stone stood on one of England's high cliffs. The man got on his knees and layed a flower on the grave. He stood up and straightened his uniform. It was the uniform of a captain. He thought back to the time when he had met his friend and how he had changed his life.
**************
Dover 1620:
The teenager ran as fast as he could over the paving-stones in the harbour. His lungs were burning as he breathed, panting into the foggy air. He could hear the heavy steps of his pursuers close behind him.
He was exhausted, but he forced himself to go on in the darkness. He ran through yellow spots of light that were shining out of the windows of the harbour pubs.
He didn't want to go back. Never! He couldn't handle how his stepfather and his stepfather's family treated him.
Cold drops of perspiration stood out on his forehead, but he forced his heavy legs to keep on running.
Was this life? No rational human could call this life!
His mother had died a few weeks after her wedding with Lawrence Wolenczak. Life hadn't been good to the boy after her death. Wolenczak and his three big sons had treated the teenager like a prisoner and slave, and they always let their anger out on him.
The blond boy ran for his life but the steps of his pursuers were coming nearer and nearer. His only aim was to get away from them. He would never go back of his own free will. Never!
When he was close to the harbour basin he tripped and fell down; he scratched his left leg and both hands, breaking the skin. Now his trousers had a hole in the left knee, and you could see his bloody knee throw it.
The moment he stood, up his pursuers were at his side. The teenager stood with his face to the three other people, his back to the ocean. There was no chance to get away from them – he was caught in a trap.
The three Wolenczak sons were coming nearer and nearer. Here was their victim, standing in the foggy night, heavily breathing, and shivering with the cold. The biggest of the three grabbed the boy roughly.
The blond teenager tried to get away, and he finally he bit his attacker in the hand.
Wolenczak's son screamed in pain and let go of his younger stepbrother. Then he lifted his other hand and hit the blond boy hard in the face.
The thin teenager flew backwards, lost his footing, and flew into the cold water. Immediately he felt himself sinking.
The three brothers looked, shocked, into the dark water. A thin stream of bubbles came to the surface. Then nothing. Fear was on the face of the one who had hit their younger stepbrother. He took a deep breath and looked at the other two. "We will tell that we haven't found him. Nobody will no the truth. There is no one wo would miss him. What does it really matter, if there is one more idiot gone from the world? Come!"
They looked around and were relieved to see that no one had seen the little accident. Then they went home.
************
Snorting and gasping for air, the teenager came back to the surface. His bones felt stiff because of the cold water. The salt water was burning his scratched knee and hands. He had lost his too bigs shoes in the water.
He looked around; the fog was thicker over the water than on the land. He couldn't see in which direction the land lay. The boy started to swim in the direction where he thought the land would be. But there was nothing, just water. He tried another direction but couldn't find the land this time either. Panic was rising in the teenager.
Suddenly he saw a big ship in front of him. But the ship hadn't docked at the harbour; it had dropped its anchor in the open water. A thick rope was hanging down the side of the ship into the water. The boy took a second look at the rope. Should he try to climb up the rope onto the ship? But what could he expect to find on the ship - maybe something dangerous? But on the other hand, he couldn't stay in the water much longer. He started to feel like he couldn't move his legs and arms any longer. Everything was so stiff from the cold. If he stayed in the water much longer, it would certainly mean death.
He grabbed the rope and started climbing. This wasn't easy because of his hurt hands. It felt like ages before the boy reached the rail of the big ship. The blond haired teenager climbed over it and looked around. But there was nobody there. It seemed like no one had noticed him.
For a moment, the fog cleared slightly, and he saw a lifeboat on the ship. He climbed into it and covered himself with the tarpaulin which lay inside. He decided to just rest for a short time. As soon as the fog was away, he could try to leave the ship without being noticed and swim back to land.
He didn't realize when the sleep took him.
**********
To Be Continued...
Written 200 / Translated March 2004
Chapter 1
By Kiddo
~*~ In Loving Memory Of Jonathan Brandis ~*~
A big "Thank you" goes to Snuggles2 for being the person she is and always
being there when I needed her.
Disclaimer:
I don't have any rights to "SeaQuest DSV" or "SeaQuest 2032" and I am not making any money with this story.
This story is a translation of my German story "Von Dover Nach Plymouth Und Zurück".
I had the idea for this story when I read the book "Castaways of the Flying Dutchman," by Brian Jacques. The whole story is inspired by the book and I took a few sentences from the book for the beginning for my story. I did this without permission.
The story takes place with the crew of the first season, the time is 1620.
Lucas Wolenczak has a diffrent last name in my story, his name is Lucas Holt.
I did a ton of resarch for this story. I read history books, song books, books about sailing- ships, pirates and sailing. And I tried to watch everything on TV that I could find about sailing and these things.
A big Thank You goes to my wonderfull beta-reader Jackie.
Feedback and reviews are still the only thing I get for writing. So please review.
***************************************************************************
England 1660:
An old man stood at the gravestone of his good friend. The stone stood on one of England's high cliffs. The man got on his knees and layed a flower on the grave. He stood up and straightened his uniform. It was the uniform of a captain. He thought back to the time when he had met his friend and how he had changed his life.
**************
Dover 1620:
The teenager ran as fast as he could over the paving-stones in the harbour. His lungs were burning as he breathed, panting into the foggy air. He could hear the heavy steps of his pursuers close behind him.
He was exhausted, but he forced himself to go on in the darkness. He ran through yellow spots of light that were shining out of the windows of the harbour pubs.
He didn't want to go back. Never! He couldn't handle how his stepfather and his stepfather's family treated him.
Cold drops of perspiration stood out on his forehead, but he forced his heavy legs to keep on running.
Was this life? No rational human could call this life!
His mother had died a few weeks after her wedding with Lawrence Wolenczak. Life hadn't been good to the boy after her death. Wolenczak and his three big sons had treated the teenager like a prisoner and slave, and they always let their anger out on him.
The blond boy ran for his life but the steps of his pursuers were coming nearer and nearer. His only aim was to get away from them. He would never go back of his own free will. Never!
When he was close to the harbour basin he tripped and fell down; he scratched his left leg and both hands, breaking the skin. Now his trousers had a hole in the left knee, and you could see his bloody knee throw it.
The moment he stood, up his pursuers were at his side. The teenager stood with his face to the three other people, his back to the ocean. There was no chance to get away from them – he was caught in a trap.
The three Wolenczak sons were coming nearer and nearer. Here was their victim, standing in the foggy night, heavily breathing, and shivering with the cold. The biggest of the three grabbed the boy roughly.
The blond teenager tried to get away, and he finally he bit his attacker in the hand.
Wolenczak's son screamed in pain and let go of his younger stepbrother. Then he lifted his other hand and hit the blond boy hard in the face.
The thin teenager flew backwards, lost his footing, and flew into the cold water. Immediately he felt himself sinking.
The three brothers looked, shocked, into the dark water. A thin stream of bubbles came to the surface. Then nothing. Fear was on the face of the one who had hit their younger stepbrother. He took a deep breath and looked at the other two. "We will tell that we haven't found him. Nobody will no the truth. There is no one wo would miss him. What does it really matter, if there is one more idiot gone from the world? Come!"
They looked around and were relieved to see that no one had seen the little accident. Then they went home.
************
Snorting and gasping for air, the teenager came back to the surface. His bones felt stiff because of the cold water. The salt water was burning his scratched knee and hands. He had lost his too bigs shoes in the water.
He looked around; the fog was thicker over the water than on the land. He couldn't see in which direction the land lay. The boy started to swim in the direction where he thought the land would be. But there was nothing, just water. He tried another direction but couldn't find the land this time either. Panic was rising in the teenager.
Suddenly he saw a big ship in front of him. But the ship hadn't docked at the harbour; it had dropped its anchor in the open water. A thick rope was hanging down the side of the ship into the water. The boy took a second look at the rope. Should he try to climb up the rope onto the ship? But what could he expect to find on the ship - maybe something dangerous? But on the other hand, he couldn't stay in the water much longer. He started to feel like he couldn't move his legs and arms any longer. Everything was so stiff from the cold. If he stayed in the water much longer, it would certainly mean death.
He grabbed the rope and started climbing. This wasn't easy because of his hurt hands. It felt like ages before the boy reached the rail of the big ship. The blond haired teenager climbed over it and looked around. But there was nobody there. It seemed like no one had noticed him.
For a moment, the fog cleared slightly, and he saw a lifeboat on the ship. He climbed into it and covered himself with the tarpaulin which lay inside. He decided to just rest for a short time. As soon as the fog was away, he could try to leave the ship without being noticed and swim back to land.
He didn't realize when the sleep took him.
**********
To Be Continued...
Written 200 / Translated March 2004