Chapter Four
The crew of the Rambler were quick to provide aid for those men rescued from the lifeboats, finding food and supplying medical attention, but there remained an air of caution as though they did not full trust the navy personnel.
"So, you were not entirely honest with us before, were you?" queried the commodore.
"Only a little," the woman replied with a chagrined smile. "I really was returning from visiting family in Hawaii, and Hazel really is my aunt, great aunt. But, uh, I wasn't sure how you would take to having an 'ocean gypsy' around. We're not always the best liked."
Ocean gypsies, people who eschewed land to live on the sea. They rarely came ashore and when they did it was often only to resupply and trade. They were often viewed through a suspicious lens.
Diethelm choked on a cough.
The officer frowned, but accepted the explanation as believable enough, and the woman had a point – although they still would have helped, their attitude may well have been very different.
"We did not catch your name captain…" Gillette broke the silence.
"Oh, I'm not the captain. That's Kei," Diethelm pointed towards the young woman. "I'm the first mate, I go by Diethelm."
"You have a woman as captain?" Groves questioned surprised.
"Do you have any problem with that?" the blond replied dangerously.
"No, no. It's just quite surprising is all," Gillette covered quickly.
While the crew of the Rambler found space for the rescued British navy sailors, the leaders of both companies retired to the captains office to discuss what was to be done next. The navy officers shared their story of getting caught up in the hurricane, and Keilani and Diethelm decided that with nothing better to do, they would return the navy men to their port of origin – an upstanding city in the Caribbean known as Port Royal. This decision surprised the navy officers, as their port was a good months' worth of sailing away.
The captain and her first mate argued that it was not like they had anywhere else to be, and that there was no reason they should not head somewhere warmer for the winter months anyway. In the end there was no arguing with the pair, so the British officers gratefully accepted the assistance and asked how they could possibly repay the crew for their generosity.
Keilani insisted it was not necessary, as they would have been heading that direction within a short time anyway. Diethelm, a little more practically, suggested they could refill supplies when they returned to land, an agreement the officers readily accepted. They also understood and accepted the term that there would be no freeloaders, anyone able to work would be expected to assist in the daily running of the ship. After all, all working ships had the unspoken rule that everyone must earn their keep.
Shortly the leaders returned to the decks to explain to their crews what had been decided. Although the navy men were surprised at the decision of the crew to return them all the way home, they were equal thrilled to just be going home without the additional hassle of having to change ships and barter passage often. They were not particularly bothered by the idea that they would have to work if they were able, most having assumed that this would be the case anyway.
The crew of the Rambler were less surprised to hear about the change in direction, they already knew that they would be heading back towards the Caribbean soon. In fact, many were happy to be headed back earlier than planned – as much fun as it was to return to their origin, winter was starting to set in and they were thrilled to be returning to warmer climes.
Eventually the chaos died down and the crew of the ship returned to their various duties. The navy men, not tasked with anything today, assisted in the areas they could for lack of anything better to do. Diethelm took over steering, while one of the lieutenants came up to make conversation. Keilani retuned to her office, followed by the other two officers, to chart the new course to Port Royal.
The rest of the day followed rather calmly after the commotion of the morning. There remained an odd air of suspicion from the crew of the Rambler regarding the newly boarded navy men, it was as though there was an invisible barrier preventing the crew from truly trusting the rescued navy men completely.
That evening the crew of the Rambler insisted on holding a memorial for the lives lost in the hurricane, many of the crew having insisted something be done to put their souls to rest. The memorial was created from a mix of cultures, candles were lit in memory, as were paper lanterns that were released into the sky. Little caricatures were created and tossed overboard to symbolize a sea burial and hymns were sung in many languages. The navy men were asked to tell stories of the friends they had lost, evoking memories of the good times. It was not much, just a simple affair to remember lost friends, but it helped the bereaved navy men even if just a little.
Eventually everyone made their way to where they were to sleep, extra hammocks hung up in the berth and blankets placed on the ground in storage. It was far from the most comfortable accommodations, but after being trapped in lifeboats for the better part of the week it seemed like a luxury to the beleaguered navy crew men.
Soon they only lights that remained were those of the night lookout, and the glimmer of lanterns from the captains' quarters.
The captain and her first mate sat in her quarters on opposite sides of the table. Keilani had thrown her feet up on the table, chair balanced on the two back legs, as she brushed her hair and re-did her braids with new trinkets.
Diethelm sat with his elbows on his knees, forehead resting on his clasped hands.
"Are you sure this is the best idea?" the blond questioned his captain, looking up at her.
"No," admitted Keilani with a sigh, "but what are we supposed to do? Just leave them adrift to die?"
"It might be safer for us," Diethelm argued weakly.
"There's more of us, and we're in better condition. If they're stupid enough to try anything, we'd come out the better. Leaving them to die just don't sit right though, can you do it?"
"It's different, it does feel different. Okay, okay than, we're ocean gypsies," the man agreed.
"Ocean gypsies" Keilani repeated as they both toasted each other and drank heavily from their bottles of rum.
The pair sat in silence for quite some time, the kind of comfortable silence achievable only through years of friendship. Both remained lost in their own thoughts, although they ran a similar track. They worried of how safe this was, to keep lawmen aboard their ship. Could they keep their crew safe for a month? Or in the end would they just condemn everyone?
