The birds were especially loud this morning, their many voices united by the breeze—a stark contrast to the somber mood of the party waiting on the dock in Bermuda. The gathering, including the senior Bellemare, the old butler, Riggers, the cook, and half the cleaning staff, were all heartbroken to see their charming young doctor take to sea.
Lucien already said his goodbye's and now stood aboard his father's ship. He'd been asked to christen it. He called her Falcon.
It wasn't exactly the departure Lucien had envisioned, what with sailing on his father's account, but he was glad to be leaving nonetheless. As far as he was concerned his agenda contained two things: first and most importantly to do that which was God's calling—ministering to the poor and sick; and secondly (and this thought made his temperature rise), to find the intriguing young lady out there somewhere, sailing his ship over the West Indies, and take it back.
Before breaking anchorage, Captain Dewberry summoned all hands to toe the line.
Every man stepped lively and lined up shoulder to shoulder before the captain.
It nearly caused Lucien physical pain to hear Capt. Dewberry's stark orders.
Dewberry, a minuscule man, had a hard, deeply lined face, and eyes permanently squinted against the sun. Slowly, he marched down the line of sailors, all smartly dressed in navy and white striped shirts and short white breaches. Lucien cringed when the captain purposely stepped on a man's bare toes because they were too far past the seam the sailors stood at.
"I expect every hand aboard to be punctual to his watch, and be smartly uniformed at all times. The bosun will pipe down every evening as the first watch bell tolls and all men not on watch shall remain quietly in their berths."
The captain droned on but Lucien had stopped listening when he heard they were expected to bed down at eight. He hadn't known the captain was such a prune. Lucien hoped the rigid man would hold him no ill will for his father having split the captain's cabin down the middle, so Lucien could have larger quarters than usually afforded a ship surgeon.
Hours later, after they'd set sail, Lucien attempted conversation with Captain Dewberry. "When will we reach our first port?"
"Far too long! I don't know whose idiotic idea it was to sail to the Bahamas first but we'll be sailing against the trade winds for the last leg of the journey. Tacking is tedious and time consuming." The old man's face was screwed up with a scowl as he faced the sea, his hands clasped behind him.
Tacking was the practice of zigzagging a ship's path to progress against contrary winds. Indeed, a tedious practice, but they shouldn't have to do much.
"I designed this ship to sail closer to the wind than any other on the horizon, you needn't worry so much about tacking," Lucien reminded the captain. "Save maybe one," he added under his breath.
"Don't think you can smart off, pup, just because your daddy owns this operation! This ship will be run with respect and discipline!" He pointed a gnarled finger at Lucien.
Lucien held up his hands defensively at the tiny captain. "Of course, sir, I meant no disrespect. I'm only here to help."
"Quite right!" The old man turned his gaze back to sea.
Lucien inched away from the captain until he could walk away without drawing attention. As he turned, he caught Johnstone smirking at him from the starboard rail. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the barking commands that weren't his own. This was going to be a long journey.
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Short chapter, I know. But if anyone is reading this, let me know if you'd like more and I'll double post this week.
BINABASA MO ANG
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