"Atishoo!" Johnny sneezed once more as a fresh basket of rope was unceremoniously dumped on his head. He wiped his nose on the back of his grimy hand and grunted when he was kicked. "Get on with it. No dinner til you finish that lot." The second mate, Mr Frazer stalked off down the deck leaving Johnny bowed over his endless job.

Oakum picking was just one of his many despised tasks. Old hunks of rope were torn apart, and the resulting mess was used in a myriad of ways from stuffing between cracks to packing cargo. It was hard work particularly on cold fingers. Unbidden a tear crept from Johnny's right eye and a trickle from his nose. Initially he thought the job was boring but easy enough but as his fingers first blistered then cracked, he reassessed. He'd gone to the mate holding up his bloodied hands, but the man just looked at him dispassionately and asked, "so?" That's when Johnny realised his worth on board. He meant precisely nothing to these men, if he did not contribute to the running of the ship, he would not be fed. As a small, untrained lad the only thing he could do really was pick the damned oakum which at least had worth even if he did not.

When he'd first snuck aboard it was the gentle rocking that he loved the best. He could imagine he was on the high sea back when life was perfect. When they first set sail, he'd found a secret corner to hide away. He was free, free at last. Free from his dratted family, free to roam this glorious ship with its familiar creaking and comforting tarry smell. He practised getting his sea legs back and revelled in it. Dry land was depressingly steady, it was far more fun to counter the effects of the rolling as you walked along in the dark. That one night was the happiest he had spent in a long while.

It did not last.

They had found him a few days out to sea. He'd been scrounging food where ever he could find it. The cook was old and slow, so he skulked around the mess pinching the odd scrap which he'd stuff into his mouth no matter how disgusting it might have once appeared. He could barely remember now, but once upon a time he'd been somewhat of a fussy eater. Strange what hunger can do. Still eventually he knew he'd be found, and he wasn't altogether upset when it happened.

But Johnny did not receive the welcome he had imagined. Hauled by his ear before Mr Flack the mate he was grilled as to why he had stowed away. He explained that he was the son of a sea captain and knew his way around ships. Mr Flack stared at him appraisingly and made a noise of disbelief. For his part Flack was not wholly unsympathetic, he'd met many boys who thought a life on a ship would be full of adventure. Sure not many were as young as the one stood before him, all seventy pounds of resentment. After a sound thrashing, Johnny was put to work for his meagre supper.

He found a corner below deck in which to sleep and a few old sacks to make his bed. The crew were unsympathetic and made lewd suggestions whenever he came near. Mostly he kept to himself and shirked work getting only the merest scrap of food as a result. He soon earned a reputation as being a slacker and was treated accordingly. This meant he was fed little and had no free time. In short, he soon realised he'd made a terrible decision.

"I hate them," he muttered blaming everyone but himself for his predicament. Ma, Pa, Gilbert, Anne, Mari, Mrs Rachel, Jacob, Matthew he said their names in his head in a constant litany, even little Susanna was blamed, and she was joined later by the mates and the crew. The world hated him, but he would show them. He would rise to the top, become captain of his own ship one day. He'd be the boss, and everyone would have to obey. Tug, tug, tug he ripped the rope to pieces, the oakum pile growing incrementally next to him. Just when he felt he was making some progress someone would come and remove it and hit him to work harder. His hands were painful and cold, just about useless at the task at hand. He turned his angry face towards his aggressor but saw that they had walked off leaving him with the remains of the pile. Picking up another piece he started again, tug, tug, tug. The job was never-ending.

Except sometimes during a storm, when he might be sent up the ropes. He'd over emphasised his skill when he was first interrogated, and they sent him up the rigging to help furl the sails. Marilla had never let him climb so high and for some reason he found himself missing her cries below. When he had been young, he'd resented her for it; he'd been old enough to climb and she showed no confidence in his new-found skill but now memories of his fall haunted him, and he clutched hard on the rigging and froze with fear at times until an unforgiving crewman jabbed him in his back and told him to get a move on. Then summoning all his courage he'd take another step up and maybe another and another until before he noticed he was at the spar. Then it was a matter of edging out along the rope, clinging on to the cross with grim determination. Of course, being the lightest they'd send him out to the edge which since he was slow meant passing behind the others; another terrifying act. Once out there with the sea roiling below he had to join in pulling the sail up up up, heaving it up out of the way so the wind didn't slash it to pieces. He'd creep down afterwards and surreptitiously kiss the side of the ship in gratitude that he'd survived.

When at last they reached the doldrums, he was wracked with another problem. Though he had naturally met King Poseidon before, he couldn't convince anyone. Naturally that meant that he had a crossing hazing to look forward to. The crew were bored and not particularly friendly, so this act filled them with immeasurable joy. Each one had dreamed up something particularly awful, something insignificant they themselves had probably experienced in their day but which taken as whole with all the other plans they had for Johnny meant he'd be lucky to survive.

As the equator drew closer Johnny found it harder to find any sleep at night for fear of what was awaiting him. Out of the corner of his eye he watched while the mate read the sextant each morning and announced how much further they had to go. Fortunately, they were struck by the doldrums and the ship came to almost a complete standstill as they tried to capture a zephyr of breeze. He remembered how his father was when the sails hung limply, and the hot air wrapped them all clammily. Several of his crewmates took the opportunity to go for a swim as often as possible but Johnny still sat beside his pile of oakum. Whatever happened around him this Sisyphean task never diminished.

"Sail Ho!" came the call from the crow's nest and soon another ship came into view, using their light old sails they had captured a zephyr of breeze and came alongside. When ships came close enough, they often exchanged messages and on this occasion it concerned Johnny. Mr Flack came to him kicking the oakum pile out of the way to his consternation. He made to gather it all together, but Mr Frazer grabbed him by the coat and dragged him to the first mate.

Still upset by the loss of his precious oakum Johnny took a moment to notice who was sitting next to Mr Flack. When he did, he staggered, "Uncle Matthew?" he said with a gasp. "What are you doing here?"

Naturally the moment Marilla woke the morning after Johnny had disappeared she knew she had to go after her boy. "He's suffering so," she told Rachel. "We left his only home, the ship when I was unwell, then John and Gilbert deserted him. No wonder he's unsettled."

Unsettled, thought Rachel. That wasn't the word she would choose, he had done his best to murder his little brother. Still, she kept quiet. Marilla was doing a good enough job of blaming herself for their predicament, she did not need Rachel's contribution. "Well, you mustn't go after him," Rachel said determinedly. "John would never countenance it, what with you being in the family way and anyway who would mind Jacob and Susanna?"

Marilla nodded sadly; in truth she didn't think she had it in her to go to sea again. "I'll go," offered Mari out of the blue. "I know my way around."

"Mari!" exclaimed Rachel. "No, I absolutely forbid it. I just got you back, and I cannot allow my daughter to go off to heaven knows where unaccompanied."

In the end it was Matthew and Anne who volunteered. Anne because she missed the sea and Matthew to accompany her. They wracked their brains for a few hours thinking of what to sell to raise the fare until Mari remembered Zhang Wei's generosity. "This is just the sort of catastrophe that can be solved with a windfall like that, Marilla," she urged when Marilla prevaricated.

"Once it's gone it's gone," Marilla reasoned with maddening objectivity. When Matthew tried to persuade her, she replied sadly, "if only John were here."

"Well, he's not. He's far away and it's up to you to make the decision, Marilla," Matthew said. "He left you in charge, sister dear."

"Oh, I don't know," Marilla felt close to tears. "I don't feel right spending that money, yet we need to do all we can to bring him home, don't we? He's just a little boy."

Matthew and Anne were packed off with all the warm clothes they could muster. With Goliath riding on Anne's shoulder, they waved goodbye and set themselves the mammoth task of finding young Johnny. "It's like looking for a needle in a haystack," Matthew remarked as he chucked the reins. Anne tucked her arm in his and nodded, she felt the same way. Nevertheless, it felt good to be showing Matthew such an important part of their life.

First, they had to sell the gold. Wrapped up in the same small sack they had received it in, they took the bullion to the bank and handed it over to be weighed, astonished with the wad of notes they received in exchange. Shrewdly Matthew tucked it into several spots on his body so that it was unobtrusive.

It took Matthew a few tries to locate the name of the ship that had just sailed with Johnny in it and then to find a ship that was sailing in the same direction. "It's going to Brazil," the port official explained. "Via Africa. You'll have to be lucky."

Well, it looked as though luck was on their side after all. After several weeks sailing which Matthew found hard going, they located a few ships but none of them were the one they were chasing. Eventually stuck for a few days in the heat of the tropics their canny captain located a puff of wind which took them to within shouting distance of another craft. As was usual in the circumstances the crew communicated and they found out that this was the very ship they were looking for.

Quickly they made their way over in a rowboat and clambered up the side. Standing on unfamiliar deck they chatted with the mate Mr Frazer who took them to a cramped cabin. Nursing cups of tarry tea Mr Flack explained the situation, "I jest had a feeling' ya know. I thought there's something fishy goin' on. Jest a feeling, but something was fishy. Stuff goin' missing, a bowl here and a spoon there and a drip here. Fishy like, ya know." Anne thought she'd do anything to avoid him talking about fish again. "Ah here 'e is. I pray this one's yours, Mr Cuthbert?"

Johnny tried to keep up the pretence of indifference, but he was very pleased to see Matthew and Anne. "You came for me?" he gasped. "Even when…"

"We did. Your mother misses you, she sent us to come fetch you, Johnny. She wants you back. Will ya come with us?"

Even then Johnny paused, unsure of the reception he could expect at home. Anne drew him to one side, "I know what it's like to be alone Johnny, it's tough isn't it. Are you sure you want that forever?" She could feel Johnny's small stiff frame slump into her as he took note of the enormity of what she said. "Reckon you're lucky young lad," Mr Flack remarked. "Not many boys gets a second chance to be back with their fambly. You can allus come back to the sea when you're grown, but til then I reckon you'd be better off at home."

Matthew took note of Johnny's long dank hair, the scabs on his fingers and his thin form, "yeah, I think we should take you back, Johnny."

"Does that mean I won't have to cross the line?" Johnny asked, hope rising.

"Eh?" Matthew said in some confusion. "Cross what line?"

"No," interjected Anne. "I know you've done it once already. I'll vouch for you." It was that that squared the deal as far as Johnny was concerned. He hadn't slept for days worrying about what he had to face when Poseidon came aboard.

Together they made their way across to the other ship. Johnny turned to wave his shipmates goodbye, but they were all going about their business and no one bothered to wave back; a point Matthew noticed with a broken heart, it was evident he'd had a torrid time. Before they made it home, Matthew determined to get to know his little nephew and hopefully he'd be happier.