Forever Young The Beginning

As they stood together, she turned to him and put both arms around his neck, pulling his lips toward hers. He steadied them both with one arm and pulled her hard to his body with the other and met her lips with his own. Her lips were soft and pliant against his as they gently kissed. Ian felt a thrill pass through his body as did Alandra. They parted a few seconds to look into each other’s eyes, and then they kissed again. This time her lips parted under his and his tongue gently teased her tongue as she tightened her hold on his neck. They stood, rising and falling with the motion of the ship, lost in the moment. Suddenly the sound of a distant gunshot rang out causing them to part, still looking wide-eyed at each other. Both were breathing deeply. The faint cry of a voice from Elsie reached their ears.

  Ian looked up, saying “Alandra, they’re hailing us to pull alongside. You and Celita have to prepare to board Elsie at once.” He moved to assist her in climbing down, and walked with her to the stern deck. Celita had joined them midway as Ian beckoned and called to her. “Both of you pack as much of your clothing as possible. Hurry!” Alandra looked questioningly at him, “Why so much clothing, Ian?” But he had turned and walked quickly to join his crewmen to prepare to pull alongside of Elsie.

  It took around a half hour to sail Tico into place. Both ships had furled most of their sails to make the maneuver. Two crewmen had carried the ladies’ trunks to the starboard rail. Eight grapples with lines were thrown down and made secure and the cargo booms swung out, and the boatswains’ chairs lowered.

  Alandra and Celita got into them and Alandra placed her hand over Ian’s as he set the ropes on the seat. She leaned out to speak and putting her lips to his ear said “Ian, I love you. Be careful, please.” He took a long last look at her and smiled so that she warmed just from seeing it. “Aye lass and I love you too. Now be safe aboard Elsie and let me do my work.” The crewmen had transferred the cases of muskets, pistols, and sabers to Elsie, along with much of the silver and all of the gold vessels, candlesticks, and sundries. That had been done while they were becalmed, days earlier. The prize ship was far lighter than she had been. There were ample goods for trade and money, as well as food and water too if they were separated.

  Angus appeared at the railing, saying “Ian, if we get separated, make for Marseille. It might be risky sailing alone into Spanish waters with a Spanish ship under control of a foreign crew. Here are papers detailing my ship’s log entries and I have written all of the names of Alandra’s family down as well as the circumstances of the prize ship. It contains the names of the captain and crew too, for next of kin. You are named as the captain of Tico. This is as close to a chain of title as we can do. I made duplicate charts and put them in a separate wrapping around the outside of this package. Keep these papers safe and dry, and present them to the Harbormaster at Marseille.” The packet was passed down in a bucket with several coconuts weighing it down to keep the rising wind from snatching it away. They were secured in oilskin and tightly bound, sealed with candle wax.

  “May God watch over you and us. We are in for it tonight! God speed laddie.”

  “God speed Uncle Angus.” As he looked up one last time he saw Celita and Alandra both looking at him. Alandra looked unlike herself, being pale and drawn, and her beautiful eyes stricken in her lovely face. No doubt she had caught the gist of what had been said between the two men. He flashed a bright warm smile and waved as they cast off into the roughening seas.

  Chapter 7

  As the afternoon passed the wind had built up steadily. Ian felt that the approaching cold front was a strong one and that they were in for it. By now, both ships had trimmed sails somewhat in order to keep on course. Ian knew that they would have to keep reducing sail as it got rougher. As the afternoon wore on into evening, the sky took on an ugly hue and the waves were now frothing with whitecaps. The cloud cover was solid and nearly black, covered with what looked like silver-grey fish scales. They were holding within four hundred feet of Elsie with all sails furled now, but dared get no closer. More and more Ian dreaded the coming night. He had eight volunteer crewmen on board, all good men and seasoned sailors. One spoke passable French and another spoke some Spanish, both of which would be known in southern France if it came to that. Ian had every intention of staying within sight of Elsie if at all possible though.

  ***

  Night had fallen some four hours ago and Ian had again taken the helm. The wind by now had risen to a roar that wouldn’t stop. Both ships had all available lamps lit and both sought to weathervane against the strong westerly wind to remain as stable as possible. They were beginning to be blown backwards by now. Ian could still see Elsie’s lights and as he watched he saw two more appear. Angus must have ordered extra torches lit since it had started to rain because there was no longer much worry about an accidental fire.

  Ian sent the man with him to go see if they could rig and light another torch too. He was gone for around ten minutes, and then returned with a lighted torch. Two of them rigged it on the stern deck, higher above any waves which might extinguish it. Ian thanked the returning crewman for the slicker he brought and the man took the helm while Ian got the slicker on and buttoned.

  They had pumped out the bilge after transferring the ladies and the cargo over to Elsie, but Ian ordered the bilge area to be checked every half hour to be certain that they were not taking on water. The bilge pump had been tested by MacCarr while they were becalmed and had been found to be working well.

  ***

  It was well into the night and Ian lost sight of Elsie shortly after all of his lamps and torches were blown out. The rain now came in sheets, and seemed to be nearly horizontal due to the strength of the wind. It stung his face as he fought to maintain their heading into the wind. He called a crewman to the helm with him to help hold her there. The wind had risen to between a howl and a shriek now that tore at everything. The sails had all been furled some time before and the waves were becoming fearsome. Ian and his shipmate strained to hold her into the wind but he knew that they were being blown badly off course. They had begun to take on a little water so Ian had ordered four of them to the bilge pump below.

  Suddenly above the shriek of the wind, he heard a splintering sound and the patched front mast collapsed, taking the tripod brace which MacCarr had rigged with it. Ian cursed himself for not stripping all sail from it even though all sails were furled. It had fallen at an angle and being the foremast, was drooped over the starboard rail of the fore deck. The ship listed and began a sidewise drift and occasionally, waves began to break over her port side. The rudder could not straighten the ship due to the drag of the mast and rigging hanging in the water alongside.

  Ian lashed the helm and told the man with him to stay there, and began to make his way to the main deck. He practically fell into the area below decks due to the tossing of the ship, hollering to abandon the bilge pump for now and to get on deck. He needed every man to help cut the broken mast and rigging free before the ship was lost and them with it.

  By now, he could barely stand as the wind shrieked and seemed to rise to an even greater strength if that was possible. He had noticed that the air had gotten a lot colder as he crouched and worked his way along the starboard deck. Three crewmen were at the wreckage and had started to saw at the ropes with their knives. He took the axe a crewman brought and began to hack at the ropes. The others from below deck crawled to where they could help and with knives began to cut through rigging ropes. They couldn’t speak to each other for the shrieking of the wind and just kept doggedly hacking at the wreckage.

  As scraps of rope became available, Ian began to crawl from man to man and would help each tie themselves to the side rail. He gestured and shouted “Tie yourselves in lads, or you’ll go over the side!” He saw that some now were stopping to tie themselves in. Finally all had secured themselves to something besides the wreckage and Ian gave the axe to Tom McBride. He secured himself and re-joined h
is crew mates in cutting the wreckage. Waves breaking over the port side battered them against the starboard side rail mercilessly. They worked nonstop for another quarter of an hour, finally getting the part of it that was dragging down the bow overboard. Tico gave a mighty surging heave as she rose, almost like a whale breaching. Ian ran to the helm and helped the helmsman to correct the ship so that it was again pointing into the wind. The hatches were tight and hadn’t been breached, and Ian hoped that MacCarr’s repairs on both ships would hold. He took the helm and sent the crewman to take all but one of the crew below to man the bilge pump again.

  ***

  “Cap’n McCloud, I’ve lost sight of the Tico!” shouted a crewman above the shriek of the wind.

  “Aye. It may be that her foremast broke. We’re being pushed off course. Hold her into the wind.” He had called the men down from the rigging hours ago after the last sail was furled.

  He thought we will be blown off course, but not as badly as Tico. With their mast likely down and dragging them, they will do well not to capsize.

  In an aft cabin, Alandra sat on the floor in a corner, holding Celita. The ship tossed and plunged endlessly. The girls had never been exposed to such a thing. Alandra was impressed at the seamanship she had witnessed this day. That these sailors were no strangers to this type of storm was soon apparent to her. They were a different breed of men than the sailors who sailed the coastal waters of the Mediterranean. There was never the first sign of any panic or fear in this crew.

  She couldn’t stop thinking of Ian on that smaller craft with a spliced mast. Although she admired the way the sailors directed by MacCarr had rigged it to sail, she knew that it couldn’t still be holding. Such a thing couldn’t be expected to last long in conditions like this. She knew that Ian was at the helm of the Tico right now as was Angus, standing above them on Elsie’s aft deck.

  The night dragged on and it seemed that it would never end. Anything loose had long since ended up on the floor. She was glad they hadn’t eaten.

  ***

  It was nearly dawn and the wind still howled, but it had slackened. All were exhausted having manned the bilge pump all night long. They had gathered in the stairwell leading to the aft cabins and rested there, out of the rain. After an hours’ rest Ian again led them all below to man the bilge pump again for another hour and a half with one break in that time. The cold sea water was up to their ankles still. He said “Well lads, we’ve at least stayed warm all night. By Heaven it is cold for this latitude! I’ll have a look topside.”

  “Aye Ian, you may be the only one who can climb the steps.” Several laughed tiredly but they just sat, sweat-soaked, their heads hanging down, breathing deeply.

  The sky and sea were gray with whitecaps visible as far as the eye could see. The crew gradually came topside and joined him. By then he had retrieved his spyglass and climbed the remaining mast.

  Descending he said “Nary a sail in sight lads. Get to the bilge. Lorn and I will gather some food.” Handing his glass over he said “Li, take lookout. We’ll eat in shifts of two and take turns on the pump.” The day passed without a change in the sky, but with fewer and fewer whitecaps as the rough sea abated some. Finally around midday, the bilge was picking up no more water, and everyone was glad of that. Towards dusk, Ian saw a strip of bright pink at the western horizon. “Look lads, it may clear later tonight so I can get a bearing.”

  “How d’ye think Elsie fared, Ian”?

  “Well Stu, a damned sight better than we did in this low slung tub!” At that they all laughed. It was a like a tonic. Mindful of what his uncle Angus would do, Ian then said “Lads let’s thank the almighty that we’ve lived to tell about this fearsome storm. Let’s bow our heads now.” He said a short prayer of thanks for their coming through the storm and for the food they were about to eat. They all sat down wherever they could and ate fruit and bread from Elsie’s stores. No one wanted to cook or even to wait on a hot meal as bad as they wanted it. Li surprised them with hot stew that he had hastily put together using some of the salted beef, and a blend of vegetables. They all wolfed it down, thanking him. Ian set the watches and all but him and Stu went to the cabins to make the best of getting some sleep.

  Three hours later he had his sextant and compass at hand and a crewman to help and another to hold a lamp. The minutes slipped by and he did a complete recalculation, making notes. Finally he said “All right, let’s go to the cabins.” After some calculations he looked up and said “We’re ninety miles off course. We may make Marseille in five days.”

  ***

  “The worst of it’s past, Cap’n.”

  “Aye.” He thought I wonder if Ian blew all of the way to Sicily. The men were aloft and sails had been set so as to tack, but headway was scant. He called for relief and gratefully went below, dropping into his rack, but taking a while to fall asleep as he fretted about Ian and the others.

  In their cabin, Alandra awoke. Carefully so as not to waken Celita, Alandra made her way to the door and came up on the main deck. The wind had subsided and the sea was gray, and covered with whitecap waves. She walked as best she could around the main deck, holding the side rail to keep herself from falling and made it to the stern deck, approaching the helmsman.

  “Do we….. know where… are yet.”

  “Yes ma’am.” We’re some fifty miles off course to the east, but we’ll make up some of that today.” She went below and told Celita.

  “You are worried about Ian, Alandra?”

  “Yes, Celita. And you are worried about Tom?”

  Celita lowered her pretty eyes briefly, then raised them again and answered “Yes.”

  ***

  Two uneventful days passed then with improving weather. Thanks to a special stinkbait that Li made for them using salted pork and some evil-smelling goo that he concocted, they caught a small marlin. That night, they sat around feasting on roast fish. Stu had found the rest of the bread, where he had secured it high up in Alandra’s cabin.

  Before eating, Ian gave thanks to God for their food. Stu kept digging at Li Hong about the fish not tasting quite as good as that he had served on Elsie. It was in fact excellent, but Li had no way to duplicate the sauces he made on board Elsie. He had fussed about Tico’s galley, saying that it was fit for little more than heating dung, and he had long since learned how these men loved to joke and carry on with one another by now. First blaming the cooking facilities in the galley then feigning being hurt, he swore that he would fix them a meal never to be forgotten when they reached Marseille.

  Stu said “All he needs is the company of a good woman and he will be right again.” Tom said “Yea lads, as long as she can cook, at least one of them’ll know how!” At that, all laughed uproariously, slapping Li on his back heartily. It was a welcome change of pace after the stress of surviving the storm.

  More wine was poured and Ian allowed all to have two more glasses. He had learned from Angus to ration strong drink tightly for safety’s sake while at sea, but tonight was an exception. He and his crew needed to unwind from the tensions of the past days. “Say Tom, did you bring your mandolin aboard?”

  “Aye, I’ll get it.” Tom struck up a lively and bawdy ditty he had learned in Liverpool, and all but Li sung along, laughing while they sang. It kindled a warm glow that went to Ian’s core to hear his men having such a good time. They sang several more, and then Tom put the Mandolin away and all turned in excepting for Li who had first watch.

  ***

  Alandra and Celita walked the decks in the sunshine. It felt so good to be sailing normally. They and the crew had eaten after the galley was cleaned up. Things had returned to normal aboard Elsie. Armando had confirmed that they were fifty miles off course three days ago. He had been taking readings three times daily since and one nightly as well. Several times a day he took out his violin and had played music on the main deck. At night, he would play and the crewm
en not sleeping would often sing along. They often sang lively tunes and paired off, dancing with one another. Alandra had never seen such a thing before. She and Celita were delighted by it. Angus finally asked her for a dance, and taught her the steps of a dance he knew. It was more of a sailor’s jig than a dance, but it looked fun to the girls. Soon they were laughing and dancing. It was good to be alive. She thought often of Ian, but gradually became more convinced than ever that they had survived the storm and that they were making for Marseille.

  There was plenty of hot food and all ate on deck informally, having had enough time below deck during the storm.

  The days had passed in this general fashion and they had sailed past the indigo mass of the Balearic Isles already. Everyone’s spirits were high. Not long after they had passed the Isles, a Spanish man of war approached and fired a warning shot and hailed them to prepare to be boarded.

  After the boarding party came aboard, Captain McCloud through Armando introduced the two ladies to them. After hearing that Alandra was the daughter of the Spanish ambassador to France and her account of the piracy and their rescue, he had then turned to Captain McCloud and saluted him smartly. They shook hands, and the officer bid them Godspeed.

  Late that afternoon, Alandra heard the lookout cry “Land Ho!” Within half an hour, she could see the coast of Spain. They would sleep in their home this night. She and Celita knelt and prayed, thanking God for their safety.

  ***

  Three more days and nights passed with three other sightings, all northbound like they were. The crew was in good spirits for which Ian was glad. A natural leader, he was instinctively sensitive to the mood of his shipmates and knew how important that was, learning it from his uncle Angus by observation.

  It was typical beautiful Mediterranean weather and good sailing conditions. The wind had gradually become westerly, then southwesterly and their progress improved. That night, Ian took readings, then corrected their course to three-two-zero, and said “We should make landfall tomorrow and as best I can tell, it’ll be Marseille.” The night passed without incident.