Chapter Nine: Repairs and Additions
The next morning, Captain Carlisle, his lieutenants, the sailing master and carpenter all set to work on the ship's repairs. The mizzen topgallant was broken, as was the topmast of the fore. Thankfully, Mister Devaney, the sailing master, assured us all that they could be fixed, as long as we were able to find a port and a fresh supply of wood. Mister Ashman also set to work on repairs, and soon, the captain had all of us knocking on wood with hammers and chisels and other tools.
We began repairs while we were still out at sea, but Roland had informed me that Captain Carlisle would dock the ship as soon as we neared land. He said we were off the coast of Spain's vice royalty of New Grenada and that we'd seek cover for the repairs on its shoals. Roland was rather excited to reach land, and I asked him why as I worked up in the rigging of the mainmast, fixing the lines. I sat, my legs wrapped around the long yardarm, trying to tie a knot together, with Roland sitting opposite me in the same position.
"If we step on land, well, that means more leisure time. Plus, it'll give us the chance to trade with some of the natives."
"But don't they speak Spanish?" I asked, looking up from my unsuccessful knot. It wound up being a ball of tied nonsense than an actual knot.
"Yes, but the Captain knows it… I think. If not, well, we can just hope they speak English." Without my permission, he reached forward and grabbed the ropes I was trying to tie and easily knotted them together in a secure bond.
"How do you do that?" I said, snatching it back from him and attempting to undo it so I could make another futile attempt.
"I dunno. I just watched other lads and soon knew it." I stopped fiddling with the ropes and shoved it back to him.
"Do it again," I ordered. Shrugging, he easily formed the knot again, and again, my eyes could not figure out what he was doing. "Oh, forget it. I'll just be the stupid little ship's boy all me life on this ship." Roland laughed and began to get up and climb down the rigging.
"Where ya going?" I called.
"Eh, I think I'll see what Dobbin is up to. Maybe we'll be some of the first to be sent down on a boat to the land. I hope we do."
"Can I come?"
"Your duty is up in the rigging, Jack," he said, his rather pompous midshipman attitude coming out again. In very crudely spoken Spanish he said, "Adios, mi amigo!"
There were also a couple of broken seams across the larboard side of the ship, but Mister Ashman was able to take care of the holes easily and our main focus at the moment, was to fix the sails, masts and rigging that all went amiss in the constant firing from the day before. The French had the brilliant naval tactic of firing on the up roll, meaning that they would aim for our mainmast, sails and rigging, thus making us an immobile ship. Our hull might have been fine, but our masts were cracked, our lines were tangled in an impossible clutter, and our sails were full of holes.
Bored with the constant tap, tap, and tick, tick of hammers on wood, I began to hum to myself. It was no particular tune, but I deemed that was how many sea chanties began: as simple tunes seeking for words. I realized though, that there was no need for me to try and make my own sea chanty. My mind knew only one song any bit close to life on the sea.
We extort, we pilfer we filch and sack
Drink up me hearties, yo ho
Maraud and embezzle and even high-jack
Drink up me hearties yo ho
Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a pir—
"Would ya stop yer piratical and disloyal singing of the British Navy and get down to the deck?" said Dobbin, as he grabbed hold of the yard and beckoned me to go down.
"It was just a bit of fun, Dob," I returned. "It's not like I'll desert the Navy and go off an' be a pirate." I smiled inside at the lie. As soon as I knew where Jack was, it would be farewell to the lovely Resolve.
"Of course. Knowin' you, I doubt it," he retorted as he led the way down the lines to the quarterdeck.
"Why are you callin' for me anyway?" I asked, almost stepping on his hand as I moved down.
"Are you blind, Jack? Land ahoy, barely a mile distant." I stopped halfway down the ratlines and looked to the bow of the ship. Sure enough, there was a patch of bright green sitting on the horizon.
"Is the captain recruiting who's gonna take the first boat to shore?" I asked, my eyes still fixed on the approaching island.
"Aye. I wanna get down there first. I hope there's clean water. We stink like hell."
"All too well," I replied.
As our feet landed on the floor of the deck, we saw Captain Carlisle and Second Lieutenant Johnson marching primly to the starboard side of the ship where the bosun and his crew were lowering a few boats onto the water.
"Mister Lester, Barlow," called Captain Carlisle.
"Aye, sir?" said Dobbin and I simultaneously. Briskly, we hurried towards him and saluted.
"You are to be part of the landing party which will begin camp on shore and assure us that we are welcome there. You shall be under the supervision of Midshipman Griffith and Midshipman Bennett. Follow their orders." We followed his instructions posthaste and exited down a rope ladder to the small cutter waiting for us. In there already sat Bennett and Griffith, and unknowingly, Dobbin and I sat on the opposite side of the boat, as far from Griffith and sadly, Bennett, as possible.
Because I was even cursed with more bad luck, the dirty cad, Lonan, was part of our landing party and hobbled down the ladder and plunked into the boat, causing it to shake considerably.
"Blast, can you get any heavier, man?" snorted Griffith as he tried to steady himself in his seat. Lonan didn't reply, he being a lowly gunner and Griffith being a middy. I could hear his muffled curses though.
"Jack," said Bennett, his voice pulling me away from thinking about the filthy man. "Move further right to balance the boat."
I did as I was told and stood up and then sat myself down, a larger space between Dobbin and me, and a smaller one between me and Bennett. I was stupid to think Bennett was done with his orders, for he then told Lonan to sit in the space between Dobbin and me to balance out the weight. I had difficulty breathing after that.
Lonan's grizzly and ruff skin brushed against my arm as he sat himself down, the boat wobbling a bit again, but not as much as before. I moved all the farther away from him, which wasn't very far because I would have run into Bennett, and that would have made me look like a fairy. It was better to suffer sitting next to the stinking Lonan than to be branded as the fairy of the ship for the rest of the voyage.
A deep rumbling noise came from Lonan's throat and I recognized that he was chuckling to himself. My eyelid twitched and I turned my head away in disgust. The small space between Bennett and me was sealed with a box of supplies in case one of us got injured. Lonan was breathing noisily through his sunburned nose and his eyes were squinting as the sun poured down on us. Griffith gave the order for the rowers to start pulling us towards the land and I had the desire to abandon ship and swim all the way to the island instead of sitting in the awful company of Lonan and Griffith.
I watched the Resolve grow smaller as we rowed ahead of them to the advancing isle. The air about us was insanely silent and the only sound I did hear was Lonan's dog-like breathing and the grunts of the men who rowed.
"Dear God, may this all be over soon," I mumbled to myself. Abruptly, I felt something dig into my side and I knew exactly who it was and I darted to my right so quickly, that I pushed the supply-kit out of the way and rammed into Bennett.
"What the hell was that about?" squawked Griffith.
Ignoring his sure to be appalled face, I nervously got up and picked up the supply kit and set it in the space between Lonan and me, leaving me safely beside Bennett. I sent a swift look at Lonan and found the bastard grinning, his decayed, yellow teeth giving off an all too apparent stench.
"Are you all right, Jack?" asked Bennett, scooting a bit away from me. Wonderful, Astrid. You just took another step forward to proving yourself a fairy.
"Yes, yes, fine," I said quickly. "Thought I felt… a twang in my back. Yes, a twang." Both he and Griffith looked at me with baffled and vaguely disgusted faces. I decided not to press the matter further and spoke not a word until we had reached shore.
As the bottom of our boat scraped against the sand barge and halted in the dry, white shore, we found a strange welcome from a group of natives. Some bore what seemed to be offerings, others, mainly the women, were dressed in a rather sad-looking array of old, torn English dresses in an attempt to attract the tastes of British men.
"Hola," cried Griffith.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing at his horrible accent. Even the natives laughed as he spoke.
"Me llamo Señor Griffith. Soy de Britannia y el barco se llama el Resolve. Estes personas son mis compañeros," he said, pointing a finger at us as we leapt onto the sand. "Vosotros hablaís inglés?"
"Si, señor," replied one of the natives. "Mi hija habla inglés. Consuela. Vaya, niña." A young girl ran forward and I saw an all too familiar smile on Griffith's face surface.
"Bienvenido, señor de Britannia. We have food and drink for your people and captain. Is possible to trade? We much to give." It was definite that Griffith was no longer interested in the needs of his captain or his ship, and he smirked and kissed the back of he girl's hand. She laughed awkwardly and Griffith straightened his back and turned back to us, pleased that he had charmed yet another woman.
"I believe there is no need to persuade them to help us. They have already offered to trade and have much to give us, I am sure, because of this beautiful young woman right here."
The girl giggled again, having understood English, and Dobbin sent his usual nudge to my side and whispered, "Just you watch. Tonight he'll bring that lass off to his tent and fuck her." I was a bit revolted at Dobbin's use of vocabulary. I'd prefer him to say that Griffith would bring the girl to his tent and bed her instead of the other word. I cursed, but I did not curse like that.
But, not wanting to seem like a mother, I agreed with him. "The bastard'll prolly leave her with child and then never come back. Hence a wife in every port," I murmured.
Seeing that our small landing party had dispersed and scattered about the island, trying to trade with the tan-skinned natives but failing terribly because of their limited Spanish, I decided to find Bennie and ask for permission to wander about and explore the place.
Poor Bennie was forced to take control of our expedition on account of the fact that Griffith was merrily charming our only Spanish translator. The girl was most likely my age with dark hair, tanned skin and a timorous smile. She was very small and dainty, perfect for a man like Griffith to easily seduce. I was disgusted with the whole ordeal and knew I'd never look at a man the same way again.
"Bennett!" I hailed, walking up to him. My clothes were still dried and stiff from blood since the battle and I needed to find fresh water to finally clean them.
"Greetings, Jack. Would you mind helping me?"
"No, but I have a question first."
"Proceed," he replied a bit agitatedly, taking off his coat and sitting on the sand. He seemed mighty stressed over something.
"I was wonderin' if you'd allow me to explore the island a bit. It'd be good to have someone who knows the place and speaks English if we are gonna re-supply properly."
"That's what Miss Consuela is for," said Bennett, not at all happy.
"Well, currently, she don't seem too interested in helpin' us. She's interested in Griffith."
"Why am I not surprised? The first thing Griffith ever does when he comes to port is look for women. After being on a ship for barely two months he is already eager for a woman's touch, while I'm left here to do the duty assigned to him."
"Why not tell Captain Carlisle about it then?"
"Griffith would beat me until I was dead." He lied down on the sand and positioned his arms behind his head. His blue eyes stared up at the strikingly clear, indigo sky and I looked at him, suddenly feeling… odd. With Bennett, I felt at ease, anxious but relaxed; cold, but hot. I took it that his split emotions were beginning to affect me.
"Will you let me explore?" I asked, remembering why I came to him in the first place.
"Go ahead. The Resolve will weigh anchor soon anyway. There's naught to do but wander about. Go ahead, Jack."
"Thank ye, mate," I said, patting his shoulder.
I ran quickly from the white sand beach to the humid trap of the tropical forests and ventured deeper in the mess of shrub and vines, sharpening my hearing for any trace of fresh water. My forehead began to drip with salty, pungent perspiration which I tasted whenever I licked my dry lips.
Exhausted from the heat, I began to whack uselessly at my exposed skin, where mosquitoes and other vermin were gleefully welcoming themselves to sucking my blood. My trousers were sticking to my legs and my boots were practically soaked from my damp feet. My breathing grew deeper as the heat began to control me and at last, I decided to take a rest from my exploration of the island and sat amongst the tropical plants and flowers.
I took off my boots and rolled up my trousers to my knees and then took off my vest. I was smart enough to keep my shirt on, for without it, my womanly physique would have been more apparent. I rolled up my sleeves, gathered my belongings and was soon off again.
My aimless wandering and my impaired sense of direction led me to the other side of the island, to a bare sandy beach that faced the tame blue ocean. Moaning because I had not found fresh water yet, I collapsed onto the sand, heaving a sigh. "My God, I do not think it has ever been any hotter," I murmured. The salty grain stuck easily to my clammy face and I got up wearily and trudged alongside the beach, still hopelessly searching for a proper bathing place.
The roar of the foaming waves breaking on the beach brought some sort of relaxation, but I was aching to find fresh water to dive into. All I could do at that moment was let the waves wash over my feet as I walked into them, only to drift back to shore. I figured I was still too much of a landlubber.
Stumbling really nowhere, my ears suddenly twitched at the beautiful sound of trickling water amidst the rumble of the waves. Filled with unstoppable joy, I followed the sound and soon found a lagoon deep into the land, but still fairly close to the beach. I crouched down and dipped my hands in the water, and it was refreshingly cool. Sighing and breathing in deeply, I took a few steps back and then jumped up and plunged into the water.
When I surfaced, pushing my wet hair back with my hand, I found the interested by slightly confused visages of Dobbin and Roland peering at me from the dry shore. "Hullo, Jack," said Roland. "Ya find this place and didn't tell us about it?" he joked.
"I found it less than a minute ago, and finding you two here tells me you were following me all this while."
"Yep. When the Resolve weighed anchor, I met up with Roland and he was asking where you was, so we asked Bennett, and he said you ran off somewhere. And here you are."
"Why am I not happy with you two being here?"
"Because you are about to tell Dobbin who you really are, Jack," said Roland seriously as I began to step out of the water.
"What?" I questioned, wondering why on earth he was telling me to tell Dobbin who Jack Barlow really was. "Why would I do…" Roland pointed to my body, and I realized that with my clothes dripping with water, it stuck to my frame and revealed my small waist. "Damn you, Roland," I muttered, speaking normally for once. Dobbin stood, gawking at me and my lighter voice, his jaw dropping.
"Go on, tell him," said Roland. With a weak nod of agreement, I faced Dobbin and walked up to him, laying a hand on his stiff shoulder.
"Dobbin, I am not a man, as you can tell. I'm a woman, and my name's not Jack. You met me already. I'm Astrid," I said clearly and slowly, to give some leeway for the shock and screams about to come from Dobbin's mouth.
"Are you bloody serious?" he shouted. "How? When? What? Why!" I shushed him with a slap on his face and told him why I was out to sea: to look for Jack.
"Now, stop looking at me like that," I said, growing uncomfortable with the dead face he was giving me. He still stared at me in disbelief, but he knew it was the truth, hopefully.
"But… But… But… you're Adam's lass? And … and… y-you're h-here… I think… Oh, God, I told ye stuff about…" he stuttered, looking at his hands for some answer instead of looking at me.
"Lookie here, Dobbin," I said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Ya can't tell a bloody soul about who I really am. Griffith's here and, well, you know what happened back in Port Royal. Nobody else's gonna know, all right? Unless Roland or I find it fit to. Savvy?"
"Y-Yes. I won't tell. But… if…If you are caught, they're going to hang you."
"That's why I need you to shut up about it and call me Jack forever and ever. And don't treat me differently 'cause you know I'm a lady. And if it takes you a while to get it in your head, then stay away from me, all right? Damn, it's so bloody difficult to act like a man." I left Dobbin to ponder over the shocking bit of news and asked Roland if he would tighten the cloth around my chest, for I feared it was coming loose and therefore revealing my girlish appearance.
Reluctantly, he did so, and for the sake of decency, Dobbin looked away. Of course, I never revealed anything to Roland or Dobbin, except maybe for my bare back, but nothing other than that. I was not so trusting as to let anything else be seen. "Is that tight enough?" moaned Roland as he pulled on the two ends of the cloth as he knotted them together.
"Yes," I wheezed, feeling my poor heart getting squeezed. "That's good."
"Good. Now, Captain says we're to stay here for about a week until the ship is in better shape. Until then there will be the daily routine of getting up, heading back to the ship for four hours to do some work, have dinner, then leisure, then back to the ship for another four hours and then sleep."
"Such joy fills me," I mocked. "Can I borrow some of yer clothes, Roland?"
"Not my middy uniform," he said firmly.
"Then give me your normal clothes. I need to wash the blood off of mine," I ordered.
"All right. I'll be back. Dobbin, keep her—I mean him, company."
As Roland's figure shrank in the distance, Dobbin sat his bum on the sand beside the water, running a hand briskly through his hair, which was accompanied by a few mutters and moans. I remained in my spot, still dripping from my swim and stared at the poor lad. He must have thought me quite a heartless wench to disguise myself as a man and fooling him. And if there was one thing I knew about men, it was that they didn't like being made sport of.
I squeezed the water from my hair and timidly approached Dobbin, not speaking a word, but just letting him murmur his complaints to his heart's content. When he quieted a bit, I found it safe to sit beside him, but he only got up and walked away, sitting himself farther away from me. I shook my head.
"Ye know, ye can run away from me, Dobbin, as much as ye want, but I'll always follow… ye miserable cad." And to prove my point, I got up and was walking towards him again when he got up and turned to me, his brow creased with irritation.
"You never know when to stop, do you, Astrid?" he growled, and he sat on the ground again and I shrugged. The lad was right.
"All right, Dobbin. Ye can go think to yerself in that little bubble o' yours and I'll just wait for Roland to come back." He looked back at me, his face a bit softer, but the fury still present in his eyes.
His mouth opened, seeming to say something, but it never came out, and with a huff, he swerved his head back around and hunched his shoulders.
By the time Roland returned, Dobbin still hadn't said anything to me, but while I was dressing into Roland's clothes, safely hidden in the tropical shrubbery, I heard him say, "I was wondering why you was such a pretty lad." And I laughed.