Chapter Seven: Under Southern Skies
The Equator and the South Atlantic Ocean.
The days were growing warmer. They were headed for one of their way-markers, the Saint Peter and Saint Paul archipelago, near the equator, and roughly halfway between South America and Africa. Darwin himself had stopped there, and described two species of bird, a booby and a noddy, so Pam was anxious for a sighting. She prowled the decks peering through her scope and binoculars, but so far had been rewarded with only common gull and tern species. The area was known for storms, but the breeze that bore them along was sultry today. The men had taken off their shirts to work in an effort to keep cool. Panning around to the bridge with her binoculars Pam saw to her surprise that this included the captain!
Unable to stop herself, she paused to study the man; his chest and back were a bit hairy, but it was of a fine, red-gold color, and not too long, maybe even attractive. He was definitely in good shape, she had seen him drill beside the marines with what looked to be considerable skill with a longsword. He could also often be seen pitching in at the ropes, he was the kind of leader who would get his hands dirty if need be, and the men loved him for it. Pam admired his lean physique, that of a much younger man. She was just about to turn away when he noticed her attention, and flashed her a smile and a friendly wave. Ack! I've been caught! Pam, blushing hotly, gave him a feeble wave in return, then pretended to be interested in a handy seabird flying by, hoping he couldn't see the scarlet hue her face had taken on from that distance. Gawd Pam, you are acting like a silly teen-ager! She chided herself. Still, she admitted to herself with a tiny smile, he is pretty hunky.
Later that day, Pam declined a stop at the rocky atoll. She had read Darwin's notes on it, and there wasn't much of anything she could add to them, so they might as well just keep going. It made her feel depressed. Here she was risking her life on an expedition in a world where someone else had already discovered almost everything in a future that wouldn't even happen that way again. Deep down she knew that any research she did would have value, but the feeling of being a dwarf following along in the footsteps of giants, even ghostly ones who would now never even be born, made her feel insignificant.
Pam was quiet through dinner that evening. After dessert, the captain asked everyone to join him up on the bridge for a toast. Pam looked at Gerbald, but her friend only shrugged. The bosun, however, had a knowing look about his ruddy face. The night was a bit cooler than the day had been, and very clear, the stars so thick and close they felt they could pluck them out of the sky like grapes from a vine. Once Dore arrived from the galley, the bosun passed out a cup to everyone into which the captain poured a very fine French brandy.
"I've been saving this for a special occasion. Today we crossed the equator, having now come a long way on our journey. I would now like to direct your attention to the south." He pointed with his brandy glass. "Do you see those bright stars there, low on the horizon, in a group? They are, I am assured, the Southern Cross, and it is the first time I have ever seen them. Perhaps it is the same with some of you. They are as beautiful as their reputation states, and I hope for their blessing. And so, we have arrived at an excellent time and a place for a toast." He raised his cup as the others followed suit. "Here's to the good ship Redbird and all who sail on her!"
A chorus of Skål followed, and Pam found herself feeling better as the warm night and the delicious brandy worked to soothe her soul. While Gerbald joined the Swedes in another round of drinks, Pam noticed Dore had drifted off to the rail by herself, where she gazed solemnly out at the southern sky. Pam joined her friend, giving her a friendly bump which made Dore smile.
"Penny for your thoughts, Dore?"
Dore smiled again, Pam could see that the usually doughty woman was quite moved, and needed to gather herself before speaking. Eventually she turned to her younger friend.
"I never thought I would see anything like this Pam. The Southern Cross, the great oceans; these are sights for men of adventure, for the brave and the mad. . . . I'm just an old washer-woman, a simple soldier's simple wife. I never thought I'd be in places like these. . . ." Her voice trailing, Dore gazed up at the winking lights of unfamiliar constellations, slowly shaking her head, her face having taken on an almost child-like look of wonder.
Pam nodded slowly. "Neither did I, Dore, not in a million years. I'm just glad you're here to see it with me. It makes it a lot easier to cope with. Thank you for coming along on this crazy voyage. It's a lot to ask from a friend, even one as dependable as you."
"It's nothing, Pam. I would not have let you go without me! I just didn't expect such beauty, such thrills. I am glad I saw this, I am glad we are here, doing these things. It's . . . fun."
At that revelation, it was Pam's turn to have her words catch in her throat, so she just looked back at Dore with wide eyes, and grinned her biggest grin.
****
As they continued south and then eastward, the weather got cooler. It was still winter in the southern hemisphere, and the warmth of the equator was fading with each passing day. One chilly morning Pam got up before dawn to make her way to the deck rail. She hadn't been able to sleep for several hours, and figured she might as well get some fresh air. Looking out to the north she gasped. The flat horizon had been replaced with a purple rise of distant land. That's Africa! she realized with a rush of excitement.
"There's the Cape of Good Hope, Frau Pam," the bosun told her as he came over to lean on the rail beside her. "A lovely sight, isn't it?"
"It's like I'm in a dream sometimes, one incredible thing after another. I really never thought I would see a place as far away as this. None of us did."
They watched as the sun rose, bands of light and shadow lent the continent the appearance of some vast, enigmatic monument fashioned of gold, and ebony. After a few minutes spent drinking it all in, the bosun gave the scene an admiring little whistle before ambling off to his duties, but Pam stayed there, mesmerized.
A few minutes later, Dore, always an early riser joined her on the deck with two mugs of hot coffee, one of which she placed in Pam's eager hands. They gazed at the red vastness of dawn-painted Africa for a while, then Dore spoke aloud in a reverent tone:
" 'And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.' "
****
They were getting close now. The weather turned from fair to foul, and Pam felt she was back on the North Sea again. Day after day they bounded across hair-raising swells. That morning, the captain had told her that they might sight Mauritius by afternoon, maybe even be able to land if all went well. Pam had become increasingly anxious over the last few days of unpleasant pitching and rolling. The rough seas had dampened her mood, even though the sailors said they were happy there were such strong winds to push them along.
Feeling cooped up in her cabin, and frustrated with what had come to seem a never ending journey, she decided that cruel waves and wind or not, she would spend the day keeping watch. She really couldn't just sit and wait any more. After a late breakfast from an ever sympathetic Dore, Pam bundled up in her best foul weather gear to go stalk the decks, binoculars ever at the ready. She even trusted young Pers with her precious birding scope in order to have another set of keen eyes on the task. He had been eager to climb into the crow's nest and help her keep vigil. The bosun had allowed it, and the first mate had apparently elected not to interfere, despite surely considering it a shameful waste of the lad's abundant energies. She looked up at the bridge to give the captain a hopeful smile, which he returned when he noticed her there. He had dressed in a fancier than usual coat today, and cut a fine figure.
"Come on up here, Frau Pam!" he called down. She climbed the steep ladder-steps carefully, grateful to be that much higher above the bitter cold, splashing seas.
"I see you are eager to get there, Frau. One hopes you have not grown unhappy with our service?"
"Oh, no, not at all! You're wonderful, I mean, you and your crew, all wonderful!" Gawd, you sound like a total dork! The captain laughed amiably, he had only been kidding, and fully understood her desire to reach their destination.
"Of course, of course. It's been a long voyage! I must admit I'm looking forward to some time on shore, maybe have some fresh fruit—not that Frau Dore's cooking isn't delicious, it's the best ship's fare ever! I don't imagine you would let me keep her on?" he asked, grinning in jest.
"No way, buddy. She's mine!" They shared a good laugh and Pam began to feel the knot of tension that had been forming in her shoulders ease. We really are almost there! I can hardly believe it!
"Dodos, here I come!" she said to herself as the captain turned back to his duties.
The hours passed by slowly. Behind them the weather from the south promised to turn surly, black clouds were building, and the wind had dropped a few degrees. Ahead of them the Muskijl tread solidly along, the Annalise and Ide just ahead of her. Their fleet might be few in numbers and made up of small vessels, but Pam now understood that they were also tough, the product of years of shipbuilding know-how in the wintry north. They were made for weather like this, and took it in stride.
"That's a real demon storm brewing down there," the bosun muttered darkly when he came up on the bridge to confer with the captain.
"Looks no worse than a North Sea squall," the first mate said, his voice full of tedium.
"Now it does, but this is the south, and the weather's different down here, meaner. I've seen it like this before down near Cape Horn. When she hits us tonight she'll be full blowing all right. Let's hope we're in the lee from it, behind the island."
As the weather worsened, Pam did her best to go unnoticed, hoping the captain wouldn't send her belowdecks. He and the pilot, sturdy Arne, both held the wheel steady, their eyes were only for the waves. The sky behind them darkened, in stark contrast to the bright skies to the North. The afternoon was slipping by, the descending sun's rays slanting across Redbird, casting her in bronze as the shadows grew longer on her decks. Pam's eyes were aching from straining to see over the horizon, and she began to feel tired, regretting the foolishness of her long watch. She was just about to go find some tea, and possibly pour a little whiskey in it, when Pers' excited call came from above.
"There it is! The island! The island of the dodos!" Pam ran to the rail, fumbling to get her binocular straps untangled. The ceaseless rolling of the sea had a way of tying them up in knots. With her naked eye she saw something to the north, a blur of color above the sea's distant curve. Focusing in carefully, she had a clear view; pastel smudges of lavender and green, volcanic mountains rising majestically from the islands interior.
"Mauritius. At least that's what I'll call you until we give your new name to go with your new destiny." Pam grinned up at Pers' pale face high in the crow's nest, and waved crazily at him. Not letting go for a second even to wave, he grinned back, letting out a loud whoop of joy. They were moving fast with the blustery wind, and the mountains grew larger and higher above the horizon. The captain deemed it safe enough, so Dore and Gerbald were summoned to come join them on the bridge, where they all milled about, grinning like children at the county fair, nearly half out of their minds with excitement. Gerbald had remembered to bring along a bottle of schnapps and was passing it around merrily, careful not to let the waves ceaseless rocking spill any.
The captain soon caught their joyful mood, and told them in a very pleased voice, "Our colonists may be able to set foot on their new home this eve after all, if we can find a safe anchor before dark. We'll head up the east side. The storm is blowing from south by southwest, so we'll have more protection there. Your maps from the future show several suitable harbors. Let's hope they are right." The man turned back to the wheel, well earned pride in his every move. Pam made herself stop staring at his broad shoulders, and returned to the impromptu party at the rail. That was when Pers called again from the crow's nest.
"Sails in the east! A ship is coming around the island's east side!" The revelers quieted themselves, they hadn't happened on many other ships on their journey since leaving the North Atlantic, and the presence of another vessel here and now seemed a surprise. Pam held her binoculars to her face, hurrying to find the ship, which had now turned southward, headed directly toward them.
"It's big," she told them calmly enough. "And it's got guns. Big guns." She lowered the binoculars, then quickly handed them to the captain. After he found his focus he was quiet for a moment. He handed the binoculars back to Pam, his face ashen.
"It's a French warship. Their crew is readying her guns. We are about to be attacked."