Rogue Wave (The Rogue Wave Series Book 1), page 3
Alaric nodded as they looked out over the deck of the ship. The sailors seemed to be getting along just fine. Lucas believed on keeping strict order, but he also allowed the men to have their fun. He did not believe in flogging and the crew had always respected him for that and he respected them in turn.
In the last several years as Captain, he had only ever made one man walk the plank, so to speak. The man caused trouble for him and the rest of the crew the moment they set sail; constantly stirring the men up and causing fights to break out. One night, after they had just taken a ship and half the crew was manning the prize ship, the sailor had tried to mutiny against Lucas. In the morning Lucas sailed the ship out to one of the tiny specks of an island and dropped the wretch there.
For the most part, it had been the same crew since he first became Captain of The Trinity. When they went into port, there would always be a few new men that would want to sign up. Usually, it was because they could not find work elsewhere, some wanted adventure. Most of them did not last, they would discover Privateering was not for them.
Lucas hopped down from the upper deck. He headed below and through the door to his cabin, straight to the long chest that fit snuggly against the far wall. He opened it, sifting through the large pieces of parchment until he found the one he was looking for. It had been a long time since he had sailed to France, he wanted to be sure of the best route to take and what ports would be safest.
He unrolled the map on top of the desk that sat in the back of the cabin, just in front of a small window. Studying the map, hands placed on either side of it, he held it down to keep it from rolling back up. The parchment was covered in marks that would have confused a non-sailor. Lucas studied it for some time; the different routes, where enemy ships would most likely be and what ports the merchants and passenger ships would stop at. He needed to speak to Cook and discuss how long provisions would last and which port would have the best food supplies. Before he spoke to Cook though, he wanted to meet with Doc.
Lucas knocked on the wall that led to Doc’s quarters and surgery room. “Come in, come in, Captain,” Doc waved him in not looking up from rummaging through his books that lay neatly stacked in a chest. “What can I help you with?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about the new recruits. One new lad in particular. He is very young and has obviously never worked so much as a day in his life, let alone been on a ship before, definitely not a privateer ship. I am a bit concerned. I believe he is the son of one of the plantation owners from the islands. He of course did not say as much. The lad claims to be an Allen Treadfast.” Lucas said rubbing the back of his neck.
Other than being concerned about the boy’s family possibly accusing Lucas of kidnapping him, he really did not know why he was so concerned for the boy’s welfare. Him and Alaric had only been two years older than Allen when they found themselves on a ship for the first time. Of course, that had been different. They had each other and were used to hard labor and working out in any weather condition.
Doc looked up with a twinkle in his eyes. “You are a good Captain, try not to be too concerned. I have no doubt this lad will be like many before him. They find their way on the ships, and either find they have the salty, ocean water running through their veins and sailing becomes a part of them or they discover it’s not for them and leave the ship at the next port.” Doc paused. “If he did run away, it might have been for the best, I have heard some of those plantation owners can be ruthless and cruel. Perhaps his father was not that friendly towards him. If he were a good father, maybe the lad just needed to find himself.”
“I should think you do not have to worry about the boy’s father causing a ruckus, either.” Doc added, as if reading the Captain’s mind. He was right of course, they knew nothing of the boy’s past or life. Being on Lucas’s ship might be the best thing for the lad, at least that is what Lucas hoped.
“Thank you, Doc. You are probably right. Let’s keep an eye on him. I would feel better if we learned more about him and who his folks are. I do not want any trouble, especially not when we are under direct orders from the Governor. If he says anything to you or you hear anything, let me know.” Lucas sighed, feeling a bit better about the odd situation.
“You got it, Captain. I will see what I can find out.” Doc turned back to his chest of books.
Catherine stood at the railing, watching her home fade away as they sailed on. She took a deep breath, is this not what she had wanted? To experience being on a real ship? To have a story to tell and see new places? She looked over at the old sailor she had spoken to earlier. The Captain had said his name was Ol’ Shorty, surely that was just what he was called on the ship and by the crew and not his real name, Catherine thought. She looked around.
Sailors were everywhere, all focused on different tasks. Completely lost, she had not expected to work on the ship she would sail on. This was not what she had envisioned. It could not be helped now though; she might as well make the best of it and get busy. She looked over at the old sailor once more. He seemed kind enough when she spoke to him before. Catherine walked over to him.
“Excuse me, the Captain told me to come see you.” She deepened her voice, she needed to do that if she expected this to work. What would happen if they found out that under these scratchy garments, she was a woman? Catherine grew pale. She would have to be careful and never let her guard down.
Ol’ Shorty squinted up at her. He was about an inch or two shorter than her. “Aye. Right then, see that there clump of ropes?” He pointed a gnarled, crooked finger at a large pile of ropes. “You untangle them, then once you are done, come see me again and I will give you your next job.” Ol’ Shorty smiled, showing a missing tooth. He slapped Catherine on the shoulder. The sudden impact sent Catherine stumbling backwards onto the mass of ropes. Chuckling he called out over his shoulder as he walked off, “Better get your sea legs there, laddie.”
She looked around, several sailors were grinning and laughing. Her face burned. How had she gotten herself into this mess. She stood up, brushing herself off and set to the task of untangling the horrendous mass.
On the deck, most all the other sailors were doing their jobs with relative ease. She spotted the Captain and his first mate, Alaric, talking at the wheel. She felt her face flame again, had the Captain seen her fall? If he did see, she did not want him thinking she was not capable. This was far from the kind of passage she expected but she was here now and she could not let them see through her. She was determined to enjoy her adventure. Maybe once they got to the next port, she could find a passenger ship, though she doubted it. It had not worked too well for her the first time. For now, she had to hide her identity and enjoy herself. At least, this twist in her plans would certainly make for an exciting story.
The Captain made her feel uneasy, she got the feeling he did not believe her. She watched him step away from his friend and walk below deck. Now that he was out of sight, she felt as if she could breathe a bit easier.
Catherine busied herself with the rough and heavy ropes. The weight made it hard to untangle them and sort them out.
Occasionally, she looked up when a sailor shouted a command or when a sea bird squawked above. The salty breeze on her face cooled her. The swaying ship still felt odd to her; since she did not have her sea legs yet.
Catherine felt like she dealt with the ropes for hours, making very little progress with the mess at her feet. Soaked in sweat, her neck burned from the beating sun. Worse, her hands had become completely raw from the rough fibers. She ran her arm across her forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat that was slowly trickling down towards her eyes.
“Not bad, young Allen.” Ol’ Shorty chuckled as he walked up. “Let us take a look at those hands of yours.” Catherine placed her small hand in his thick, rough one. “That’ll do, kid. These here blisters will heal up and your hands will get used to the rough work. Bit o’ time before they be lookin’ like mine though.” He said, letting out another chuckle. Catherine smiled despite herself. “Best go soak em’ in the bucket of cool water for a bit,” Ol’ Shorty said, gesturing to a full bucket that sat beside her. Catherine slowly dipped her hands into the bucket, wincing when the cool water stung her raw, torn skin.
She soaked her hands for as long as she thought they needed, then stood up, and turned towards the edge of the ship. Peering over the railing, she watched as the water rolled and swirled as the ship passed through it. Catherine placed her hands on her back and stretched. To her horror, she realized her shirt was sticking to her from all the sweat. Her face flamed once more. She could not think of another time that she had been this mortified, so many times in a single day. She quickly folded her arms in front of her and whirled around, checking to see if anyone had noticed or if any of the men were watching her.
“You alright there, laddie?” Ol’ Shorty asked, with a raised, bushy eyebrow.
“No, thank you, I…I just need a moment.” Catherine said with a squeak and rushed towards the hatch that led below deck. She ran down the hall and opened one of the doors. The room was filled with barrels, boxes, ropes and what looked to be extra sails. Catherine went in and closed the door behind her. Frantically looking around, she spied a pile of fabric folded behind some boxes. She had no idea if it was important, what it was used for or if it would even be missed but she had little choice at the moment. Tearing off a piece, she quickly wrapped her chest. She fixed her shirt and looked at herself as best she could. Letting out a very relieved sigh she decided it was safe to go back on deck and finish what she had been doing before anyone suspected her. She turned as the door swung open. Ol’ Shorty stood in the doorway.
“I know what you are doing.” He said simply, with a lopsided grin.
“You do?” Catherine asked, her heart dropping to her toes.
“Yes, I remember feeling the same way and having the same trouble as you are now, when I first stepped foot on board a rolling ship.” He grimaced.
Catherine stared at the old sailor. Surely, he could not possibly be thinking what she thought he was. “I am sorry, I am not sure what you mean.” She finally said.
“Ack, there is nothing to be ashamed of laddie, most new sailors find themselves with a wee bit o’ seasickness.” Ol’ Shorty waved a hand in the air. Catherine felt as if she could breathe again, her pounding heart slowing. “Come, the trick is to stare straight at the horizon and wait until it passes.” He explained, pointing straight ahead as he guided Catherine out of the door and into the corridor. “Do not worry though, I’ll take ye to the doc and he can make you a tea to stop yer stomach from churning like the sea.” They came to another door. “Doc, you in there? I got you yer first patient of the voyage.” Ol’ Shorty gently pounded a meaty fist on the door.
Doc opened the door and peered down at Catherine from above his spectacles. His silver hair making him look much older. “Do you indeed?” Looking Catherine over, he gestured for them to enter. “Come in, no need to block the companionway.” He said with a welcoming gesture. “Shorty, you can get back up top, I believe I can take it from here, the boy doesn’t look as if he could be too dangerous.”
Shorty gestured as if he were tipping a hat to the Doc. “Aye,” he said, walking out and closing the door behind him.
“Now that we got that old coot out of the way,” Doc grinned. “What is it that is troubling you, lad?”
Catherine squirmed a little, “Err, it is just a bit of seasickness. Ol’ Shorty told me that you might have a tea that can ease my stomach.” She could not help but lick her lips, tea sounded wonderful to her parched throat. Her stomach grumbled, embarrassingly loud. Her hand flew to her middle.
Doc laughed, “Not to worry, I believe you just need a bit of food and drink and you will be just fine.” He said, placing a gentle hand on Catherine’s shoulder. “Lucky for you, I have tea and since we just left port, I was able to stock up on biscuits that I keep in here with me for occasions much like this.”
Catherine watched as Doc made up a cup of tea and put several biscuits on a small, cracked plate. Her mouth watered.
Doc handed Catherine the plate and motioned for her to take a seat on a stool in the corner of the small room. “Thank you, Doc. This looks great.” She spoke quietly, not daring to look up at the man, afraid he would see through her disguise.
“Not a problem, Young Allen.” Doc replied, sitting in a chair in front of a small desk. “This is your first time aboard a ship? What made a young lad like yourself want to board a Privateer ship?” He asked simply, taking a sip of his own tea.
“A…a privateer ship? You mean this is actually a Privateer ship?” Catherine choked on her biscuit. She had known it was not a passenger ship, but she had thought perhaps it might be a merchant ship instead.
“Yes it is, this is The Trinity.” He smiled. “I gather that you were not expecting to be on board this particular ship. What one was it you were meant to be on?”
She did not know how much she should say, but she figured sticking as close to the truth was best. “I was trying to buy passage on The Alice. One of the women tending the stalls had pointed me in the direction of where it was supposed to be anchored. Before I could find the correct ship, I was herded onto here instead. When I realized I was on the wrong ship, Ol’ Shorty told me that The Alice had in fact already sailed.” She explained, closing her eyes and thinking of how this all took a drastic turn. “If this is a Privateer ship, then it will be staying in these waters correct? So, as soon as we make port again, I can just find another ship to take me back to Barbados, right?” Catherine asked hopefully. She did not like the idea of her adventure ending so soon but she was not sure how long she wanted to stay on board a Privateer ship. She had read stories about them and was not entirely sure she was prepared to face what was to come.
“Sorry, but you boarded at a rather inopportune time. Yes, typically we would be staying in these very waters and I would say that you could easily find your way back home once we made port again. However, on this voyage we are headed to France on strict orders. There will be no turning back until the orders have been carried out.” Doc stated sympathetically. He studied Catherine for a moment, the shock and disbelief clear on her face. “Do not fret, it should be a relatively uneventful voyage.” Doc thought about asking more but from the look on Catherine’s face, he thought it best to wait.
Catherine finished up her biscuits and tea. She thanked the doc. He had been kind and made her feel a bit better about the situation. She headed back up on deck to find Ol’ Shorty.
Lucas opened the door to his cabin to go back up top when Allen ran down the short companionway and into one of the extra supply cabins. He was about to go in and check when Ol’ Shorty came down and waved the Captain off, explaining he would take care of the boy. Lucas nodded and left him to it, heading to the upper deck. Alaric was no longer at the wheel; he was speaking with one of the sailors. Lucas walked to the helm, “You may get back to your other duties, Eddie, I’ll take it from here.”
The sailor nodded, “Aye, Cap’n.”
Lucas gripped the wheel; the wood was relatively smooth from years of wear. He felt the pull as the waves guided the ship. He listened to the crew as they worked, the sounds of the ocean and the sea birds echoed in his ears. Lucas could stand at the helm for hours, it helped him think, helped him focus.
He was seventeen the first time he ever stood behind the massive wheel of a ship. Him and Alaric had been sentenced to serve time on a Royal Navy ship for three years. The second year they served, the ship was approaching an enemy that they had been pursuing for weeks. Lucas was standing nearby as Captain Robert Harris shouted commands and the cannons exploded, rocking the ship. It was not the first battle Lucas had been in, but this battle had been different, they could not afford to lose this particular ship.
Suddenly the Captain was laying on the deck, bleeding from a wound on his side. The first mate took charge, shouting for men to carry the Captain below and giving orders to fire. Lucas, seeing that no one was manning the helm, leapt towards the wheel, a piece of splintered wood narrowly missing his head. As soon as his hands touched the helm, he felt completely in charge and knew that was exactly where he was meant to be. Him and Alaric served one more year aboard Captain Harris’s ship. Then Lucas gained his own and was granted the Letter of Marque, with help from the Governor of the West Indies.
Lucas noticed Allen came back on deck and headed straight back to his duties. The lad certainly seemed to be trying to hold his own and was following orders as best he could.
A humming sound began to travel through the crew. Several sailors looked up as Lucas started stomping his foot in rhythm. The rest of the crew followed suit, many moved their feet or clapped their hands along to the beat. The crew often sung different shanties as they worked. The words carrying on the air seemed to invigorate the crew.
What will we do with a drunken Sailor?
What will we do with a drunken Sailor?
What will we do with a drunken Sailor?
Early in the morning!
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning!
Lucas sang along to the tune as the crew worked. Even young Allen was watching. No doubt he had not heard anything quite like it. As the shanty ended, Lucas called for Eddie to take the helm again. He needed to get back to his cabin and fill in his books. As Captain, he had to keep strict records of everything and everyone on board his ship. He also knew Cook would be serving his evening meal soon. Since they just left port and had stocked up on goods, it was sure to be a good one.
