Chapter 3
John spent the rest of the afternoon in the crow's nest. At first, he watched the waves for pirates. But the ocean's surface remained empty and desolate. The sailors below him were far more interesting. From the top of the mainsail, each man looked to be about the size of a small matchbox. He watched the sailors go about their duties, adjusting the rigging, swabbing the deck, and keeping a look out.
When he grew tired of watching the men, he turned his attention to the seagulls. They flew around him, dipping and diving as they followed the Bonetta. He wished he had something to feed the birds and wondered if they would eat sea biscuits. At dinner I'll ask for extra, he decided as he took notice of one of the birds diving low over the waves.
Suddenly, a grey wisp, floating in the distant sky grabbed John's attention. His heart fluttered with excitement as he realized it was smoke rising over the horizon. At first, the smoke hung in the air like a dirty ribbon, but after a few unbearable moments, it turned into a massive, black plume. John glanced at the men below and wondered if anyone else had noticed.
It seemed like business as usual on deck, so most likely no one had.
"Smoke ahead!" John yelled down to the men, cupping his hands around his mouth so his voice would reach them.
Everyone on deck looked up as John pointed across the waves at the smoke. The captain yelled orders to one of the gunner's assistants, commanding the man to confirm the sighting. The young assistant climbed the rope ladder, but instead of coming through the bottom of the crow's nest, he climbed over the side. John thought that was rather odd. Why climb over the side when there's a perfectly good hole in the floor to climb through? he wondered.
He was just about to ask the man when the assistant suddenly yelled, "Smoke, two o' clock!"
The captain yelled orders at the navigator, and the Bonetta changed course as the men loosened the mainsail's rigging.
"Good job lad. Stay up here and keep watch for any ships flying the Jolly Roger." The tall, lanky sailor slapped John on the back, and then leapt over the side of the crow's nest. As he climbed to safety John called out to him.
"What's a Jolly Roger?"
"That's the black flag pirates fly. You'll know when ye see the skull and crossbones," the dark-haired man said after reaching for the ladder.
John felt very important. His heart hammered against his ribs as he thought about an impending pirate attack. He rushed to the edge of the crow's nest and continued watching the smoke as the Bonetta turned hard to port and began speeding away. Something big, like a ship, had definitely been set ablaze out there.
It wasn't long before the black smoke began to fall far behind them, shrinking in length as the distance between them grew. The Bonetta raced over the waves, faster than John thought possible, it was as if she feared her pursuers, as well. After a few minutes the smoke began to disappear, then it vanished.
John watched the empty waves for a long time, his eyes glued to the spot where the smoke had been. Watching and waiting, he stood perfectly still. Nothing had ever held his attention for such a time. His eyes began to dry out as the salty wind blew across his face, licking at his soft auburn hair.
With time, John's heart slowed, returning to its normal pace.
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang.
That must be the dinner bell, John thought. He watched the gunner's assistants walk to the hatchway and form a line. As soon as the men began to disappear down the ladder, the first man came back with two meals; one for his partner and one for himself.
John wondered if anyone would bring him a meal, and then he remembered his mother. He watched for her, but she didn't come. Finally, when the first man began making preparations to clean his dishes, John decided he couldn't wait a moment longer.
"Can I come down now?" he yelled down to no one in particular. The man washing his dishes looked up and silently waved to John, gesturing that he should.
John descended the rope ladder. The sway of the Bonetta as she broke through the waves moved the ladder slowly back and forth, forcing John to take special care. He held onto each rung with all the strength he could muster.
As soon as John's feet touched the deck, he was running for the hatchway, determined to be back in the crow's nest before anything exciting happened. He raced down the ladder and found his bowl in the captain's quarters, where his mother and the captain were talking softly. Their empty bowls sat on the small table by the bed.
John rushed out of the room and ran to the large cauldron that sat by the kitchen door. Scraping the last of the congealed potato soup from the bottom with the ladle, he filled his bowl. Then, he ran back to the hatchway ladder with his brass spoon in his mouth.
"John!" the cook yelled.
John didn't stop. He was already climbing up the ladder, one-handed as he clutched the bowl to his chest. He didn't want to be bothered with what the cook had to say. His job in the crow's nest was much too important. He climbed through the hatchway and rushed across the deck to the rope ladder, where he stopped. Climbing the wooden ladder one-handed had been difficult, he realized, but climbing the rope ladder the same way would be next to impossible.
"John, wait!" the cook yelled again, this time from the hatchway, his bald head poking out of the square hole in the deck. "Ye needn't worry. The gunner-men will keep a lookout. Ye've done a fine job. Now it's time to take a break lad," the cook urged. "Come back, and enjoy yer meal, proper like."
John let his pent-up energy out with a resigned sigh. He knew the cook was right.
"Come, lad. I've made a special dessert this one night only. Come get it while there's some left."
John took a step towards the hatchway. "What kind?"
"Sometin' good," the cook answered with a confident grin.
With one last reluctant look at the ladder, John followed the cook back down to the common room.
"Now off to the captain's quarters with ye. Captain Savage wants a talk." The cook opened the cabin door for John, urging him inside. "I'll bring yer dessert in a few shakes of a lobster's tail."
The captain and John's mother were sitting at the table, apparently waiting for John to come back. Without acknowledging them, he sat down on an empty chair and began shoveling the thick, tepid soup into his mouth.
"I've just finished telling yer mother about what a fine job ye're doing," Captain Savage said.
"Yes and I'm quite concerned," Alice added. "The captain says pirates have been making a nuisance out of themselves, as of late."
John looked from his mother to the captain, wondering where this conversation was leading. He quickly finished his soup.
"It's true," Captain Savage said slowly. "I hate admitting this to passengers, but we were robbed not more than three weeks ago."
"The captain tells me he gave you a bag of gunpowder," Alice said, her eyes growing large with worry. "I want you to give that back to him. I'd much rather have you peeling potatoes in the galley than running around the ship with gunpowder," she demanded.
"But, Ma!" John cried, "The captain said—"
Alice interrupted, "I don't care what he said or how well you've been doing up there. I insist that you relinquish that powder this instant," her voice became shrill with annoyance.
John stood up suddenly, knocking his chair backwards.
"No!" he yelled.
"Don't you take that attitude with me. You're only nine years old and you will do as I say," Alice commanded as she stood.
Afraid that she would try to take the powder from him, John ran for the door. She chased him, but wasn't fast enough to catch him before he escaped the room. John ran through the common room, ignoring the comments from the men playing cards at the tables.
As he passed the kitchen door, John grabbed a handful of biscuits that were sitting beside the soup pot, knocking the rest onto the floor. He quickly tucked his shirt into the waistband of his breeches, to create a pocket, and shoved the biscuits down his shirt collar. Then he was off at a ru
n again. In one fluid movement, he leapt onto the hatchway ladder and began climbing.
Before his mother could reach the ladder, John was already through the hatchway. He knew she'd never catch him, so he took his time climbing the rope ladder back up to the crow's nest.
"Come down this instant!" Alice yelled from far below him.
John looked over his shoulder as he climbed. It was exhilarating to know his mother would never follow. A satisfied grin stretched across his face. It felt good to defy her. When he reached the crow's nest, he looked down to see if she was still standing on deck. Even from far above, he could tell she was furious. She paced back and forth, clenching and unclenching her hands.
"You can't stay up there forever, John," she yelled.
He didn't respond. He knew she was right, but for now he would stay in the crow's nest, at least until she had time to cool down. John had never defied her like this and wasn't sure what the consequence would be, but he didn't care. He watched her, feeling victorious as she paced back and forth, her arms folded over her chest. After a while, she gave up and went back down through the hatchway.
John turned his attention to the seagulls. The birds screeched as if they already knew what John intended to do. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out the biscuits one by one, lining them up around the inside wall of the crow's nest. There were five altogether, enough to feed the birds, plus a snack for later.
With the biscuit in one hand, John tore a piece off with the other. He held onto it for a moment, contemplating how he was going to feed the birds with it. As they flew around him, they circled closer, screeching at one another, fighting for a place in the sky directly in front of him. John could see their greedy, beady eyes were on his hands, and knew at that instant if he threw it, one of them would go after the morsel.
He threw the piece into the air and watched, thoroughly entertained, as one of the sea gulls swooped after it. The bird snatched the piece out of the air and gulped it down in an instant. Impressed, John tore off another piece and launched it into the air.
Another gull went for it, and missed. As the bird dove for the piece, another one flew in from below and caught it, gulping it down. As the bird swallowed the piece, two other sea gulls chased it. John continued throwing small pieces into the air until the biscuit was gone.
John grabbed another biscuit and took a bite. As he ate, he watched the birds circle even more frantically than they had before. He laughed and threw them another piece. I could watch this for hours, John thought as he watched the sea gulls dive. Their grace and dexterity amazed him. I wonder what it would be like to fly, he mused.
By the time John ran out of biscuits, the sun was beginning to set. And as the light began to fade he began to wonder what it would be like to sleep in the crow's nest. He felt stuck. Sleeping in the captain's quarters was out of the question. As soon as he set foot in that room, his mother would be on him. She'll get the powder then for sure, he thought, as he clenched the bag in his fist.
Feeling tired, John tried to get comfortable. He sat down and pushed his back up against the round wall. As he stretched his legs out behind the mainmast, he realized he could probably sleep in this position without falling down through the opening in the floor.
He lay down, on his side and nestled his face into the crook of his elbow. But sleep did not come easy. The crow's nest floor wasn't comfortable and he felt exposed without a blanket. After a while, John grew bored. He edged toward the opening and looked down. Much to his dismay, he noticed the captain was on his way up.
"Ahoy, thar!" Captain Savage said as he climbed. "Yer mother is very upset, an' as sick as a squid that's eaten a pickled herring. She's come down with a bit o' seasickness, rather suddenly, and she's blamin' yer rowdy behavior fer makin' it worse."
"I don't care!" John said defiantly.
"Well, truth be told she's rather angry with me for fillin' your head with ideas," the captain said sheepishly.
John sat dumbfounded. He didn't know what to say. It had not occurred to him that a man like the captain would care about what his mother thought.
"She's awfully worried that ye're going to fall asleep up here and fall to yer death. Why don't ye come down an' try to set things right with her."
"I don't want to give up the powder," John cried.
"Ye won't have to. She's too sick. I doubt she'll even have the strength to say another word about it. Come down, an' give her some peace."
John shrugged. At first, sleeping under the stars had been appealing, but now he wanted to try out his hammock.
"Okay, I'll come down," John agreed.
He followed the captain back to his quarters where his mother was laying in the bottom hammock, holding the back of her hand over her eyes.
"John, is that you?" she asked feebly.
"Yes," John clutched the black powder bag as if he expected her to leap from the hammock and take it from him.
"You will sleep in the captain's quarters tonight?" she asked in an uncertain tone.
"Yes, mother," he said, examining her for signs that she was faking. The skin on her face was pale and shiny and she wouldn't open her eyes. It seemed she was genuinely sick.
"Good," she said, and turned on the hammock so her back faced him. John stood for a moment and watched her still form, not knowing what to do next. He hadn't known what to expect when he had come in.
Just then, the cook came in with dessert. "I saved ye a bowl. Here, sit." The cook placed the food on the table.
"What is it?"
"It's called, Midshipman's Nuts. It's got candied lime, chopped sea biscuits, and a hint o' rum syrup," the cook said proudly. "It'll keep away the scurvy. Eat up."
"What's scurvy?" John pulled a chair up to the table and sat down. He looked into the bowl and poked the concoction with his spoon.
"On long journeys a sailor's teeth rot an' fall out. It's a nasty affliction," the cook explained.
John scrunched up his face at the image the cook had placed in his mind. He looked from the bowl to the cook, and then back to the bowl again, not sure if he wanted to try the dessert. The cook watched John expectantly, waiting for him to dig in.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, it occurred to John that the cook probably wouldn't leave until he had a bite, so he scooped up a spoonful and stuck it hesitantly in his mouth. To his surprise, the dessert tasted good. It was sweet with a hint of lime, and the biscuits had soaked up some of the syrup, which had softened them.
John began shoveling the mixture into his mouth.
"Good lad," the cook smiled as he spoke. "There's a pot o' sea water in the kitchen when ye're ready to wash up." He left John to finish.
John devoured the dessert, scraping his bowl clean with his spoon. As he did so, he glanced over at his mother. Her form was still and quiet. A yawn escaped his mouth. He looked at his hammock, wondering how he was supposed to get in it. It hung directly over his mother's and there seemed to be no way up to it without disturbing her.
John took his bowl and spoon into the kitchen and washed them. After he was done, he looked around the common room. Many of the hammocks were occupied. In many cases, one hammock hung over another in such a way that it seemed impossible for a person to get into the hammock that was higher up.
As John examined the closest top hammock, he thought about asking someone for help, but lost his nerve. It was lights out soon, and the common room had fallen silent. He knew if he started a conversation now, he was likely to get yelled at if he disturbed the men who were already sleeping.
Just then, John noticed a loop of rope that hung from the ceiling beside one of the upper hammocks. He had never noticed it before because it seemed when the rope wasn't in use it was hung over the head hook, camouflaging it from notice.
John went back into the captain's quarters and brought a chair over from the table to the hammocks, so he could take a closer look at his own. He found the same loop of rope hanging over the head hook, just as
he had observed in the common room. He unhooked the rope and tried out the loop by sticking his foot inside. It held his weight. Then, with confidence, he stepped up, putting his entire weight on the rope.
Now that John was higher up, he could swing his other knee onto the hammock. He spread the hammock out with his hands, placed his knee carefully on the material, and moved his weight slowly over. Then he quickly pushed his foot off the rope loop and flopped into the hammock. It swung violently back and forth for a moment, causing John to think he would be pitched against the wall. But, to his relief, the hammock soon stabilized.
Once he was lying comfortably on his back, John tore off his silk stockings and his polished, black shoes. He let them drop, wincing as the shoes clattered over the wooden floor boards. He watched for movement in the bottom hammock, but his mother showed no signs of waking.
There was a grey, rough-spun blanket folded under his feet. He reached down and pulled it over his body. Blankets had always given John comfort. He liked the way he felt hidden underneath them and often used one even if he didn't need it to stay warm.
From the top hammock, he could easily see out the port window. The moonlight dancing over the black waves invited his imagination to create familiar shapes. In one wave, he saw an image of a horse riding the waves before it disappeared. Then, he thought he saw a woman with long flowing hair dive after it.
After a while his mind wandered through the events of the day, John remembered the smoke hanging over the horizon and wondered what tomorrow would bring. But he was too tired to worry about pirates or his mother. The gentle rocking of the ship soothed him and he soon found himself drifting off into a deep slumber.