Jaimy and I are in the same watch section, I made sure of that with a little cajolin' of the Master-at-Arms who's in charge of who's in what watches, and sometimes we meet and talk and sometimes we just sit there and watch the stars wheeling about the heavens. I like that a lot, I do.
The Midshipmen
The midshipmen are a sorry lot. There are ten of them and they are some of them the sons of Royal Navy officers that the Captain has taken on as a favor to teach them the ways of the Service and the sea, and they are some of them the sons of rich men who have bought their sons a place aboard. One such is Midshipman Bliffil, and he is the reason they are a sorry lot, as from the first day out he has bullied them without mercy, and their spirits suffer. He is the oldest of them and he's big and not bad to look upon, handsome even, if not for the cruelty in his eyes and the sneer that's always on his lips except when he's toadyin' up to the officers. He is brutal as a sledgehammer, and I'm afraid of him and I try to steer clear of him. Bliffil rides them all, but he 'specially torments Mr. Jenkins, the one next senior to him. Poor Mr. Jenkins seems helpless before him.
To us, though—ship's boy or Able-bodied Seaman—the midshipmen are officers and they command divisions throughout the ship, and we must knuckle our brows to them and obey their every command, even though some of them are not yet twelve. If they hit us, we must take it, and not even raise a hand in our own defense.
My Sea Dad
All the ship's boys and all the midshipmen get with an experienced sailor to teach them the things they need to know, like how to splice a line (Davy
In my usual connivin' way, I seeks out Liam, the sailor from Ireland who was nice to me that first day, and he seems willin'.
'Liam Delaney, a name that won't shame me,' he sings as he guides my clumsy fingers over the rough rope —'
Liam is tall and strong and he has a lilty way of talkin'. His hair is as black as the coal. He plays the pennywhistle and has given me one and is teachin' me to play it, but I'll never be able to play it as good as him.
'Black Irish, I am,' he says proudly. 'My ancestor was some poor Spanish sailor, one of the many what washed ashore after the Armada was beat and wrecked and our Irish girls took them to their hearts and their beds, bless 'em, and here I am today.' Some of the sailors hangin' about smirk, like they'd like to offer a comment on Irish girls and their beds, but a look from Liam warns them off. He's known as a willin' and fearsome fighter.
'Ah, yes,' he says wistfully, 'we Irish have always been kind to strangers, we have, and not always for the better for us.'
The Officers and Men
The Captain is Captain Locke and the First Mate is Lieutenant Haywood and the Second Mate is Lieutenant Lawrence. The Sailing Master is Mr. Greenshaw and the Gunner's Mate is Mr. Stanford. Beyond that I don't know right now as there are many more officers and mates but I can't even name them as they have very little to do with me. We've even got Marines with their grand bright red uniforms, who stand about stiffly guardin' things and sweatin' in the heat in their high collars.
There are four hundred and five seamen and boys aboard and they are a mixed bunch. Most are English, of course, with a lot of Scots and Irish and Welsh and Americans thrown in, but there are also some Italians and Portuguese and even some black men, the first I'd ever seen. They don't look at all like the cartoons of 'em in the newspapers back in London. I suppose I must have been starin' at the one with the fierce tattoos all over his chest and arms and face, tattoos that were raised like bumps, and he caught me at it and so he growls and bares his teeth at me, teeth which I'm shocked to see are sharpened to points, and I yelps and runs away, but I hear him laughin' as I leaves:
'Be careful when you stare at the lion, boy. He may charm you and eat you.'
Most of the men aboard are good-natured, some silent, some solemn, and some free and easy. But some are scary, too, of course, there being so many men aboard and some are bound to be bad ones. One man 'specially gives me pause and makes me nervous. He's named Sloat, Bill Sloat, and I noticed him early on 'cause he always seemed to be lookin' hard at me, which seemed to me strange, as being a ship's boy I'm certainly of no account and not worth noticin'. But I'd be walkin' along and I'd turn a corner and there he'd be, smirkin' at me and sayin' things like, 'Well, and if it's not our little Jacky,' and, 'Ain't you a fine little sailor boy then, Jacky.' I thought at first that he was just bein' friendly, but no, I don't think that's it at all.
Sloat has long greasy black hair and a black beard with red in it and dead white skin, and you can be sure he was there at our hosin' down. I don't like him and neither do the other boys. He stares at them, too, but he keeps his evil eye 'specially on me, and when I find it fallin' on me, it takes all of the joy out of whatever I'm doin' and I slink away and hide. I think he knows that I'm in fear of him, and I think he likes it.
I tell Liam about him and Liam scowls and says that I'm to keep away from the likes of him and to stay out of dark corners and out-of-the-way places.
'Up in the riggin' in the sunlight is the safe place for a ship's boy, not crawlin' around down in the dark hold. You listen to your old sea dad, now.'
Liam don't know it but I've already done some crawlin' around belowdecks, and I've found a few secret places where I can practice my whistle as it's not allowed above decks except on Sunday and how can I learn otherwise? And I got to have a place to wash up and do other stuff out of sight. I've got a right-little chamber pot rigged up so I don't have to use the head, but I still go to the head sometimes when I know there's no one in there and go up to the trough as if I'm properly rigged out to use it, and I wait till I hear someone trompin' in and then do the shake-and-wiggle action the boys do and cinch my pants and leave, havin' furthered The Deception.
I find I like bein' clean, and I keep after the others to hold up their end so we won't have a repeat of the hose-down humiliation. I don't miss the lice, either, even though I never ate 'em, like some did. Almost never.
***
It's not all work-and-learnin' on the ship. Us boys spend a lot of time climbing in the riggin', daring each other to go higher and higher and swingin' out over the abyss, the ship's deck so small down below. I think we're not yelled at 'cause they want us to get used to the scary heights for when it's our turn in later years to man the top. And if we fall to the deck or go over the side, well, what's one ship's boy, more or less?
There's singin' and dancin', too, on Sundays after Church and Inspection, with the great louts stompin' about and roar/in' out songs. Liam plays the squeeze box, too, and is much admired for his skill.
It's official now. We're off to the coast of North Africa to fight the Barbary pirates and protect fair England's merchant fleet, which sounds grand to me, but I am somewhat fearful of being there off the coast of the Barbary lands, 'cause if I'm discovered and put off into one of their ports, wouldn't I be made a slave right off?
Chapter 10
We ship's boys are all tight pals now. We lay about in the foretop together as much as we can, when our jobs are done and we're not on watch and we're not racin' around the rigging like demented monkeys. The foretop is a platform built high in the foremast, which is the mast in front, where the foretopmen climb up to when they got to change the sails. There is a little platform built on the mainmast, which on the
Not for us, though, we stick to the foretop, which is big enough for the six of us and is our second kip, a club, like, where we're generally not bothered, being hidden by the sails billowing all around us. The officers and
