Voices Beckon, Pt. 1: The Voyage
“SAIL AHOY!”
Captain Honeywell took out his glass and trained it on the ship in the distance. “Well, Mr. Ritcher, can you make her out?”
“Aye, sir, it’s the Liverpool.”
“That will be Darcy then, I’ll want to talk to him.”
“Heave to!” Ritcher bellowed. “Looks as if they’re preparing to launch a boat, sir.”
“Good, better him than me.”
A short time later Captain Darcy was welcomed aboard the Industry. Honeywell ushered him into his cabin, offering him a cup of wine. “Well now, Albert, what am I up against?”
“Ice. Ice everywhere. Never seen anything like it, Jack. Spoke to Jacob Smith a few days back. He left London fifteen weeks ago—”
“Where, Albert? Where did you see him? He’s bound for Philadelphia as well.”
“Latitude 30, 40, longitude 74, 30. The Brothers was drove off the Capes, lost her top-sail yard and sails. Now she’s headed to Charlestown. Smith said he’d spoken to twelve or thirteen vessels what had been drove off the coast.”
“God Almighty, all going to Charlestown, I expect. And you’re still headed north? Why?”
“Have cargo waiting in New York. Haven’t encountered anyone yet said there’s a problem there.”
“Charlestown? You heard anything about that?”
“You shouldn’t have a problem with that, Jack, not with ice anyway.” He drained his cup and stood. “I need to get back. Much obliged for the drink.”
“Thank you, Albert, I’m indebted for the information.” They left the cabin and climbed up on deck. “How did you find Jamaica?”
Darcey laughed. “Warm.” He paused as he prepared to scale down the ropes and into the waiting boat. “For your ears only, Jack. Seems the governor has orders from the King not to trade with the Americans. Had to sell off my cargo at half the price on the black market. This whole damn trip, nothing but a waste of time and money.”
“But you still have your ship; appears to be more than some can say. I hope to be able to say the same in several weeks.”
“God willing.”
“Aye. God speed.”
16
New Year’s Eve, 1783