Chapter 4: Galley Breakdown
Izzy wafted back into her cabin after lecturing me about taking her medicine. I nodded and agreed, knowing full well I wouldn’t be stealing any more of the precious medicine I’d packed for her. I groaned as I settled into my chair. The solar batteries hadn’t fully charged the engine yet or I’d cheat and use the motor for a while. No such luck.
The stars were fantastic tonight. I was happy to see we were steady on our projected course. In my early days of sailing I’d dedicated myself to learning celestial navigation. It often served me as well or better than a compass. I had learned some on my own before Maui took my skills to the next level. Still, it had taken years of dedication to the study before I felt comfortable traveling without instrumentation. Splash me down in any ocean in any part of the world, and I could tell you where we were and how to get where you wanted to go.
Problem was, there were these things called clouds that often got in the way.
Clouds arrived shortly before sunrise and hung heavy and low. I prepared for rain. We were well within the Bermuda Triangle after all; storms came with the territory.
I shivered and wrapped myself in a camping blanket. It had to be 80 degrees out here, but I was shivering in the morning air. All I wanted was to sleep, to curl up in my cabin, and to rest. I tugged at my safety line for reassurance that I was still secured to the ship.
As soon as the sky lightened, I kept a close eye on the waves for obstacles and disturbances below. Izzy came up to offer me breaks several times, but I refused her. Besides me not wanting to make her work on her vacation, we were a day out from Bermuda now and the rocky shores and treacherous reefs could sneak up on you. I accepted her coffee and meals but continued to beg her to please stop cooking and smoking. Her response was to cook and smoke more. I kept the life preservers close. I was going to be really put out if I lost this boat. Damn Charlie. I should never have taken him up on his offer.
Izzy also kept trying to get antibiotics and fever reducers into my system. Those I did not accept. I had stocked the first aid kits and medicines for her. I was not at my best or even close to my best, but I would recover. If she became sick, I wanted her to have first claim on that medicine. The little pills went back into their little bottle when she wasn’t watching me. Whenever she came up to check on me, I attempted to look healthy and put together, but the truth was I felt like I’d been run over.
The smudge that was Bermuda became distinct on the horizon. Last night’s clouds accumulated into a collage of storms in the distance, but nothing threatened us yet. If we were lucky (haha), we’d just get a simple rainstorm or small squall.
I began scanning the area for a special outcropping of rock. If my coordinates were correct, we should be in the vicinity. I spied it after an hour: three fingers of rock jutting up to my starboard. Cursing and limping, I reefed the sails, dropped anchor, and lowered the small rowboat into the water.
It was strange to row away from my boat knowing someone was still on board. I spent so much of my life as a solitary sailor on that beloved boat, it felt wrong knowing that another heartbeat was on board as I drifted away – even if that heart belonged to my sleeping sister. The sooner I was back on board, the better.
I pulled the oars harder, cursing every time the wound in my hand and shoulder seized up. I’d be bleeding again once this errand was done.
Floating a little away from the rock outcropping was a homemade buoy I’d set up several journeys ago. I picked it up and into the rowboat and hauled up the synthetic rope underneath until a tough, watertight plastic canister landed in the rowboat. I worked the top off and pulled out several sheafs of paper and chose the most relevantly-dated parchment inside.
March 13th 1647
Dom is 9, gifted him seashells and telescope.
Ellie is 3, gifted handkerchief.
Mary pregnant with fourth. She hopes it’s another girl.
Edmund press ganged. No word of his fate.
Sea Wind Tavern – safe
Hogs End – safe
Tide Trader – burnt by Puritans
Kings Bay
Marco captured by navy. Left him there.
Andrews expects an answer
Davies is down on his luck
Puritans gaining strength. Be warned.
Remember 1650 you get burned.
Two years since I’d been here. One year until I’d get burned alive. I shivered in the chilly wind blowing ahead of the storm. I shouldn’t be here at all. My scars tightened, and the smell of smoke lurked under my skin. I pushed the foreboding feelings down beneath the surface. Be present, I reminded myself, do not be miles away. Thunder rolled in the distance and lightning flashed. I repacked and resealed the canister and threw it back in the water then rowed with my exhausted muscles back to the big boat. My shoulder was screaming.
I had just tied the rowboat back in place when the first raindrops came down. Big, fat raindrops. I set another anchor to keep the ship as steady as possible then hunkered down under a makeshift tent of waxed canvas and resigned myself to getting soaked.
The worst of the storm passed about half an hour later. The boat was safe, the storm was ebbing, and I needed to go towel off and change. I was shivering almost uncontrollably. The winds and rain blew against the hull as I went down to my cabin.
Izzy was awake and in the kitchen. The inside of the ship was blessedly warm and smelled of bread. If smells alone contained calories, I’d weigh a thousand pounds just walking through there. My sister was unamused at my dripping wet attire and sent me back up top to strip in the pouring rain and line the wet clothes before coming down again to dry off for real. I shook like crazy as I wrapped my robe around myself in the driving rain. When I got to my cabin I had to brace against the walls to steady myself.
One year from now – less really, maybe three seasons – I’d be burned at the stake. Before I put on pants I attempted to rub vaseline into the tight scar tissue and almost vomited at the sight of myself. The Puritans came for me right off the dock. The heat, the smoke, the pain…one year. I managed to keep my lunch down but was clammy and dizzy. Izzy banged around the kitchen outside my door, and I shook my head in exasperation. She was going to explode my boat.
“Izzy, you have got to stop cooking,” I begged her as I left my cabin. A wave came up under the hull and tossed me into a seat.
Izzy put some steaming dishes in front of me and waved her joint around in defiance. Fine. Let’s just explode then. Maybe I’d finally get some rest.
Tea was in the mug. I sipped at it, figuring it was the only thing that might stay down. Angry wind blew at the porthole behind me, and I stiffened. My skin crawled as if it sensed a threat. One year. Remember 1650 you get burned.
“Where did you go?” Izzy interrupted my thoughts, indicating she’d seen me out the window.
“Oh, I stash messages for myself all over. My Bermuda canister is out there, and I wanted to check my notes before heading over tomorrow. I’d forgotten about Davies.” The wind slammed against the porthole again, and I winced, anticipating pain to accompany the aggressive sound. I kept sipping the tea and trying to rub feeling into my face. I felt like shit.
“Mmmm,” she mumbled, not caring even a lick about the words coming out of my mouth.
“A man on the island. Nice guy. Bad businessman. I’d love to set him and Mary up. Hopefully Mary’s husband died while I’ve been gone. She deserves so much better.”
“Mmmmm,” Izzy gave by way of response.
I let silence go on for a while. Weeks of silence would go by on this boat, and I was completely comfortable. Now, with Izzy so close and so close-mouthed, the silence chafed.
“Mary. She’s my main crew on Bermuda,” I offered up. “Hates boats and the ocean but what can you do?”
Mary was my life-saver on this crazy island. I sailed in, and she would bring all her kids and live on my boat as I took care of business. There was no need to worry about the Try Your Luck while Mary was aboard.
“Her son Edmund used to help her, but now Dom does most of that work,” I kept rambling. Dom felt like a nephew to me. I’d watched him grow up and always tried to bring him and his siblings exotic presents like whistles and ornaments and shells.
Izzy didn’t even pretend to respond. The rain and wind kept on pounding.
There was no going on deck to escape my sister today. Izzy was better at this whole conversation and words thing. I gave up and lapsed into silence and listened to the storm outside and thought more about Bermuda.
Loose threads had worked their way out from the bandage on my hand. I picked at them and unwound it a little to see the wound. It was healing but slowly. All the rowing had broken it open again. I grimaced and wrapped it back up tight.
Andrews expects an answer. Yes, I suppose I would need to deal with that one. He had made it very clear that I was not to return to him without an answer. I’d avoid him entirely if it weren’t for the guns. I needed his help with that.
An answer. Dammit. I couldn’t pay the price he was asking of me, and here I was about to turn around and ask him for a favor. Just a year left with Bermuda, the price was too steep. My scars tightened again at the thought. One year. The sound of the wind and rain became a dull roar that began to sound like a crazed mob off in the distance. I rubbed my temples and tried to breathe the oncoming panic away. It was a distant memory, let it rest, let it go.
“What do you have to say for yourself? Explain this shit,” Izzy burst out suddenly, slamming her hands on the counter.
I jumped, startled out of my reverie. My body tensed in panic. There was a threat. There was danger. Where was it? How bad would it hurt? Izzy stared at me in accusation.
“Say what?” I asked.
She continued to stare and accuse me of...something. What had I forgotten? My heart sped with the sudden shift in her demeanor, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I looked around for a clue. There was bread in my hand.
“Oh, thank you for the bread. It’s delicious.” I took a bite of the bread to reinforce my words. It tasted of ashes and dirt.
“No!” She wheeled around and brandished the rolling pin at my face.
My muscles locked in place even though I wanted to back away from the weapon before it could break my ribs again.
“You kidnapped me – straight into a gunfight, I might add – and all I’ve been trying to do since then is make sure you survive the injuries you sustained!” She was livid. Her anger felt like a searing heat licking into me where I was exposed. “And now I’m trying to study for this fucking mess you’ve dragged me into, and you come in here and start chatting about your fucking secret friends from your fucking secret life!” Her accusations, my inability to explain myself, my hands bound and my face in the dirt—
No – no, that’s not right.
I was in my ship.
It was 1649.
“At the very least you owe me an apology, and I shouldn't have had to ask for one, either!” she screamed out.
My heart was in flight and I tried to swallow. I was safe with my sister. I shook my head a little. Calm down. Please, calm down. My heart sprinted, and my throat closed under the oppressive smell of smoke. Izzy’s long dark hair and angry face was not the same long dark hair and angry face that shouted accusations I could not possibly defend against.
“It’s not the same,” I murmured to myself in reassurance, trying to disabuse my memories of the shouting and furious mob. The oven was hot, preheated for the bread Izzy was about to bake. It was hot. It was very hot and dry in here. I tried to clear my throat and get enough oxygen. But the air was too thick with smoke, and the crowd was shouting at me. I pulled at my collar, trying to get more air.
“It is the same!” Izzy shouted back. “You haven't said you’re sorry. Or maybe in this strange little fucked-up world of yours an apology requires a magic potion and ceremony too—”
The wind whipped up and shoved against the hull. The rain – no, not rain, people, crowds of people who wanted to watch me die – the noise of the mob overwhelmed me. The angry man with long dark hair swung a cane at me. He wanted to break more of my ribs. He’d already smashed my shoulder and leg. I could feel the ache from those wounds. I yanked the cane from his grasp and raised it to smash into his ribs, his face! Let him feel the blows, let him live through the nightmares! The horrible man crouched in the corner as I shouted and threatened to beat his head in for accusing me of witchcraft.
“Anne!” the angry man said from the corner of my tiny ship galley. His voice was different, high and ladylike. What was he doing on my ship? No men on my ship! I’d kill him!
“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you and all your descendants! You’ll never be free of me!” I roared at him. This time I wasn’t bound to a stake. This time I wasn’t held back by hateful men. This time I would watch him beaten into the dust.
“Diane!! Stop!” Izzy shouted at me as I held the rolling pin like a cudgel above her tiny form. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
The voices of the mob retreated back to the dwindling wind and rain against the hull. I was standing, in my full glory as Bitch Captain of the Seven Seas, over my beloved, my most precious sister. I couldn’t relax. My adrenaline spiked through the roof. What had she asked for? An apology? No. The Bitch Captain of the Seven Seas does not apologize.
“I know what I did. I did what I did. I would do it every time,” I managed to say. Then threw the rolling pin aside. My flask was right inside my cabin door. I grabbed it and marched myself up into the storm. I could not be in the same room as her. My ship was a place of freedom for me, and Izzy had turned it into a prison. I didn’t feel the rain or the wind or the cold. I didn’t feel anything. I put my head in my hands and focused on breathing. That man, those voices, it was all memory. Ghosts. Put them to rest in their graves, Anne.
I tipped back a measure of Fountain. I stripped, tied a lifeline around myself, and went to suffer the side effects in the open ocean during a rainstorm. I came back on board soaked but clean and fever-free. My deep wounds were still troubling, but I was a step or two further down the path towards full health.
I stayed up top until the rain abated and my heart rate slowed then went to find Izzy. I needed to explain to her what happened. She’d left the galley and locked herself in her room. The horror stories would have to wait.
I knocked on her door softly. “I’ll let you know when we dock.”
She waited a beat and only responded with “When we get back home, I’m moving out.”
I couldn’t blame her.
