Voyage of Ice (11 page)

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Authors: Michele Torrey

BOOK: Voyage of Ice
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Gone.

We held a little ceremony. We were surprised to learn that Irish's real name was Sean Donovan. We said a prayer and sang some hymns. Afterward, the order was given to “brace up and haul aft!” and soon the
Sea Hawk
sailed by the wind again. It was back to business. As if Sean Donovan had never lived. As if Sean Donovan had never walked the decks, slid out on a footrope, or taken a trick at the wheel.

Death was that way, at sea.

I snugged my woolen cap over my head and yanked my collar up round my neck. I squinted in the bright sun, the wind stealing my breath away in cloudy snatches.

It was now my trick at the wheel, so I walked behind Dexter and took hold of the spokes the way I'd been taught.

“Full and by,” said Dexter as he moved away.

“Full and by,” I repeated, aware that the second mate listened
to be sure I had repeated the ship's heading correctly. We sailed north of the Bering Strait, occasionally chasing a polar whale, still with no luck, although the
Merimont
had caught three. We cruised first one way, then another, with no particular direction in mind, on the lookout twenty-four hours a day, since the sun didn't set in these parts in July.

“Full and by!” barked the second mate in my ear.

I jumped and spun the wheel to starboard. “Full and by, sir!” I cried. I brought her to, and the sails tightened.

“Steady as she goes,” said the second mate.

“Steady as she goes, sir!”

Ten minutes later, Captain Thorndike came up on deck, leading Elizabeth by the arm. I near swallowed my tonsils.
Elizabeth!

She looked pale, thin as a heron's leg. Dressed thick in a coat of reindeer fur and boots of sealskin, no doubt purchased from the natives. She peeped at me from behind a hood fringed with wolverine, giving me a smile so slight I didn't think anyone else would know it was meant to be a smile, but
I
knew. Prince Albert twined about her ankles, mewing.

She sat upon the deck chair offered by the second mate, told her father she was just fine, thank you very much, and submitted to having a blanket tucked round her neck, after which the old man disappeared below again. Prince Albert jumped onto Elizabeth's lap just as Cook brought her a mug of hot chocolate. She removed her deerskin mittens and wrapped her slender fin-gers round the mug as wisps of steam curled into the crisp air. My mouth watered at the warm, rich smell of chocolate.

Second Mate Walker straightened from holding Elizabeth's chair and glanced at me. He strode over with a purpose and said quietly in a hard tone, “Keep your eyes straight ahead, sailor. Remember your duties and your course.”

I tore my gaze away from Elizabeth, realizing I'd let the ship
fall off.
Don't that beat all!
I thought as I brought the ship to.
Elizabeth is recovered!
A warm feeling grew from my toes to my nose and I wanted to leap for joy.

Just then, a cry came from the foremast crow's nest. “Ice ahead, sir!”

“Where away?” shouted the second mate.

“Everywhere, sir! And covered with strange beasts, sir!”

Captain Thorndike bounded up the companionway ladder, his face emotionless beneath his gray-streaked beard. After gazing through his glass, he said, “Walruses.” He strode to the fore-mast to guide us through the ice.

They smelled like pigs, the walruses. Their stink curled my nose worse than Dexter's dirty underdrawers. Piled atop the melting ice floes lay hundreds, maybe thousands of the beasts, bellowing, trumpeting, snorting. As the
Sea Hawk
drew near, they lifted their massive heads to peer at us with tiny bloodshot eyes. The bulls were massive, their tusks up to a yard in length, their whiskers like bristle brushes. Fat, round calves nursed from the cows, pulling away to stare at us, their mouths milky white.

“They're amazing,” breathed Elizabeth.

I hadn't realized she was beside me, but aye, she now stood at my elbow. Everyone on the ship seemed mesmerized by the walruses, so no one noticed the captain's daughter standing next to me. Except me, that is. Even over the stench of walruses, I smelled a hint of lilacs.

“Maybe we'll fetch a whale today,” Elizabeth said softly. “It would be nice to fill our hold and go home. I swear I hate this place. It's wretched and lonely with Mother gone. I miss her.”

Just as I was about to tell her how sorry I was about her mother, Prince Albert leapt atop the rail. I'd seen him do it many a time before and hadn't given it a thought. Today, though, he suddenly became a blur of claws and legs, scrabbling for balance.

Then, with a howl, eyes huge, he slid over the edge and dis-appeared.

“Albert!” shrieked Elizabeth. She rushed to the rail. “Albert!”

I heard splashing. Howls. The walruses erupted in a chorus of bellowing, diving off the ice floes.

“Nick!” Elizabeth screamed, her face stricken. “Lower a boat!”

“Belay that order!” barked Captain Thorndike, striding aft.

“You'll stay at the helm and keep the ship on course as ordered, sailor!”

I nodded, speechless.

“But Father, he's drowning!”

“Walker! Take over at the foremast.”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

“Steady as she goes,” said Thorndike calmly. He faced for-ward, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked straight ahead.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elizabeth staring at her father, her eyes round with disbelief. Then, before I knew what was happening, Elizabeth shrugged out of her fur coat, climbed over the rail, and jumped overboard, her white dress and blond hair billowing upward as she disappeared.

lizabeth!” I screamed, leaving the wheel and starting for the rail.

Behind me, I heard shouts. “Man over-board! Man overboard!” “Hard down!” “Let go the life buoy!”

Suddenly, Thorndike was in front of me. “Back to your station, helmsman! Hard down the wheel! That's an order!” I tried to move round him, to reach the rail, to save Elizabeth, but before I could even blink he smashed me upside my jaw, his fist hard as a brick. I spun with the impact and collapsed to the deck.

My vision swam. I tasted blood.
Elizabeth!
Before I could get my feet under me, Thorndike hauled me to my feet and set me before the wheel. “Hard down!”

Then he was gone, and Garret was there helping me turn the wheel.

“Let flow the head sheets!” Cole ordered. “Haul in spanker boom….”

I shook my head to clear the dizziness, stunned with the pain in my jaw. I heard the rattle of blocks and the splash of a boat hit-ting the water. Mainsail aback, the
Sea Hawk
finally drifted to a stop.

“You okay?” whispered Garret.

I nodded, still unable to speak.

“They're fetching Elizabeth, don't you worry none.”

Then, from the sea, I heard crying. Coughing. “He's gone. Albert's gone. You let him die. I hate you! You're a horrid father!”

A silence settled, thick as fog. Beside me, Garret shifted his feet, cleared his throat. After a moment, a bo'sun's chair was low-ered, and Elizabeth was brought aboard. Hair in strings, lips blue, teeth chattering, dripping wet, she disentangled herself from the bo'sun's chair and, without a word to anyone, went below. One by one, several men, including Dexter and Thorndike, clambered over the ship's side and onto the deck.

Thorndike was breathing hard, his scar a vivid purple, his face like a gathering storm. “Cook, make Miss Elizabeth some tea, or some hot chocolate. Blood and thunder, I don't care what you make her.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Duff, stoke the stove in the cabin and bring her some dry towels.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Cole, man the mastheads.”

“Aye, sir.” Then, still breathing hard, he strode toward me while removing the pistol from his holster. Light flashed as he swung the pistol,
bashing the side of my skull. I crumpled to the deck, my bones turned to noodles. I saw stars and legs all round me.

“What use is a helmsman,” Thorndike was screaming, “if he can't follow orders?”

I felt a sharp kick in my ribs.

Not again.
I groaned.
I hate this ship. I despise Thorndike. He's a monster….

Another kick. Another. Then I heard the sound of a hammer being cocked on a pistol.

“Uh, Captain—” Dexter said.

I heard the captain breathing hard, the puff and bellow of walruses, the bleat of little Ninny. I saw brogans scraping the deck. Feet shifting. Felt everyone staring at me while hot blood pooled in my ear.

Then came the cry,
“There she blo-o-o-ows!”

“Where away?”

“Broad off the lee beam, sir! Several of them, sir!”

The captain released a long breath. “Into the boats, boys, and after them. We've got whales to catch.”

“Remember a while back when we spent two days ashore in our whaleboat?” Dexter whispered. “When we couldn't find our way back to the ship until the fog lifted?”

It was the day after my pistol-whipping. I lay in my bunk, my hatred of Thorndike like rat poison in my mouth. I'd been crazy to ever feel sorry for that man. My head roared. The upper bunk spun. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth to stop its spinning. “Aye.”

“Next time that happens, we'll wait for everyone to fall asleep, and then we'll take off. They won't take the time to find us. We'll cover our tracks.”

I groaned. “I think I'm going to throw up.”

Dexter thrust a bucket into my hands. Nothing but dry heaves. A glob of spit. Afterward, I lay back on my bunk. “What about Elizabeth?”

“Face it, Nick, you'll never see her again. At least not on this voyage. Word has it the old man's locked her in her cabin and she won't see the light of day until we're home in New Bedford.”

“But she—”

Dexter patted my shoulder. “She's safe, Nick. Safer than you, by thunder. Someday when you're back in New Bedford, you can see her again. But you can't see her if you're dead. Besides, all the fellows are saying you're a blasted fool for meddling with Thorndike's daughter. Once he finds out, your life won't be worth a bucket of pig squat.”

Waiting for an opportunity to escape was like waiting for our hair to grow.

We chased whales, aye, but either we were too far from land or the weather was too clear for us to take refuge in anything other than the whaler. Meanwhile, the
Sea Hawk
sailed northeast along Alaska's northwest coast, caught in a swift current.

Dexter and I held back portions of our food now at each meal. I was always hungry, my stomach as empty as Briggs' head. We stored the food in Dexter's sea chest, away from rats, cock-roaches, and hungry shipmates.

In between chasing whales, in between goat duty, I was set to work with Dexter scraping gum from the slabs of baleen—the hairy, bonelike slats that grew like teeth in the mouths of polar whales. Each piece was flat and long, some of them twice as long as I was tall. Baleen was as valuable as whale oil; it was used in ladies' corsets, buggy whips, hats, shoehorns, brushes, and um-brellas, to name a few. It was tough, like fingernails or horses' hooves.

As Dexter and I scraped gum hour after boring hour, we whispered about our escape, planning every last detail, gazing at the land whenever we caught glimpse of it. Empty, treeless, flat, it stretched forever. Despite our fancy plans, the thought of run-ning away across that vast expanse left my stomach in my toes.

Whenever I had a moment to myself, I spent my time carving. Carving figures out of ivory or wood gave me something to do besides think of escape. And as figures formed in my hands, I felt almost normal. Life was good, none of the rest of this was real, nothing bad could possibly happen. I carved an ivory figure of Prince Albert and gave it to Duff to give to Elizabeth to remem-ber him by. She wrote a letter saying thank you, that she'd treas-ure it always and that she cried for Prince Albert every day. Letter clutched to my chest, I fell asleep in my bunk, dreaming of drowning cats, lilacs, and Briggs' ugly mug looming over me.

As August slipped into September, Dexter and I became right anxious. Thorndike and the captain of the
Merimont
pushed their ships ever north, farther north than anyone had gone before, according to Garret. It was uncharted territory, and win-ter could come at any time in these parts. Dexter and I weren't the only ones glancing at shore, wondering if we'd ever see home again.

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