added some notes and continued opening on the boat at sea.

4 files changed, 122 insertions, 20 deletions

diff --git a/build.sh b/build.sh
index 0509d50..a9c882f 100755
--- a/build.sh
+++ b/build.sh
@@ -1,3 +1,7 @@
 #!/bin/bash
-pandoc -o lbh.epub lbh.txt --toc --css=epub.css
+# strip my docstring style notes, don't touch orignal
+cat lbh.txt | sed '/^\"\"\"/,/^\"\"\"/d;' > tmp.txt
+# process with pandoc
+pandoc -o lbh.epub tmp.txt --toc --css=epub.css
 ~/./bin/kindlegen lbh.epub
+rm tmp.txt
diff --git a/lb-notes.txt b/lb-notes.txt
index c4112bb..fbe7d17 100644
--- a/lb-notes.txt
+++ b/lb-notes.txt
@@ -72,8 +72,14 @@ Carolina Hurricane of 1713. Charleston town was once again inundated by the sea
 
 from Early American hurricanes 1492-1870, David Ludlum, https://www.amazon.com/Early-American-Hurricanes-1492-1870-Ludlum/dp/B000RB6C4A 
 
+## Gullah
 
-### Ring Shout
+The origin of the word \"Gullah\" is unclear. Some scholars suggest that it may be cognate with the word \"Angola\",[1][10] where the ancestors of some of the Gullah people likely originated. They created a new culture synthesized from that of the various African peoples brought into Charleston and South Carolina. Some scholars have suggested that it may come from the name of the Gola, an ethnic group living in the border area between present-day Sierra Leone and Liberia in West Africa, another area of enslaved ancestors of the Gullah people.[11][1] British colonists in the Caribbean and the Southern colonies of North America referred to this area as the \"Grain Coast\" or \"Rice Coast\"; many of the tribes are of Mandé or Manding origins. The name \"Geechee\", another common name for the Gullah people, may derive from the name of the Kissi people, an ethnic group living in the border area between Sierra Leone, Guinea and Liberia.[1]",
+- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gullah"
+
+The Gullah people are directly descended from the slaves who labored on the rice plantations, and their language reflects significant influences from Sierra Leone and the surrounding area. The Gullahs’ English-based creole language is strikingly similar to Sierra Leone Krio and contains such identical expressions as bigyai (greedy), pantap (on top of), ohltu (both), tif (steal), yeys (ear), and swit (delicious). But, in addition to words derived from English, the Gullah creole also contains several thousand words and personal names derived from African languages—and a large proportion of these (about 25%) are from languages spoken in Sierra Leone. The Gullah use such masculine names as Sorie, Tamba, Sanie, Vandi, and Ndapi, and such feminine names as Kadiatu, Fatimata, Hawa, and Isata—all common in Sierra Leone. As late as the 1940s, a Black American linguist found Gullahs in rural South Carolina and Georgia who could recite songs and fragments of stories in Mende and Vai, and who could do simple counting in the Guinea/Sierra Leone dialect of Fula. In fact, all of the African texts that Gullah people have preserved are in languages spoken within Sierra Leone and along its borders.\n\nThe connection between the Gullah and the people of Sierra Leone is a very special one. Sierra Leone has always had a small population, and Sierra Leonean slaves were always greatly outnumbered on the plantations by slaves from more populous parts of Africa—except in South Carolina and Georgia. ",
+-https://glc.yale.edu/gullah-rice-slavery-and-sierra-leone-american-connection
+         ### Ring Shout
 
 Shout Because You're Free: The African American Ring Shout Tradition By Art Rosenbaum  UGA Press
 
@@ -86,3 +92,15 @@ Tended to happen in cold weather, took a lot of energy \r
 * FANNUH	a wide, shallow basket used for winnowing beaten
 rice or separating the corn husks from grist after
 grinding.
+
+### Twins
+
+##### Imagining the pain and peril of 17th century childbirth
+"It pleased God, in much mercy, to restore me to strength to goe to my full time, my labour begining three daies; but upon the Wednesday, the ninth of December, I fell into
+exceeding sharpe travill in great extreamity, so that the midwife did beleive I should be delivered soone. But loe! it fell out contrary, for the childe staied in the birth, and came crosse with his feete first, and in this condition contineued till Thursday morning betweene two and three a clocke, at which time I was upon the racke in bearing my childe with such exquisitt torment, as if each lime weare divided from other, for the space of two houers; when att length, beeing speechlesse and breathlesse, I was, by the infinitt providence of God, in great mercy delivered",
+
+-http://sharonhoward.org/archive/pain-peril.pdf
+
+
+The birth of twins in the literary art of the Middle Ages frequently marks an opportunity for one woman to accuse another of adultery and thus the twins as illegitimate. Erik Kooper has analysed twenty European stories, many of which were translated, redacted and adapted, and he divided these according to the way in which twinship is represented.[27] ‘If one thing becomes clear from this kind of classification,’ Kooper concludes, ‘is that multiple births do indeed lead to numerous kinds of disaster, both for the mother and for the children.’[28] Of the twenty or so he lists, only four of these stories leave mother or child protagonists untainted by accusations of adultery or monstrous birth.",
+-https://thewonderoftwins.wordpress.com/2013/07/23/the-significance-of-twins-in-medieval-and-early-modern-europe/
diff --git a/lbh.epub b/lbh.epub
index 85be437..e908f35 100644
--- a/lbh.epub
+++ b/lbh.epub
diff --git a/lbh.txt b/lbh.txt
index b6f450f..f326e5c 100644
--- a/lbh.txt
+++ b/lbh.txt
@@ -1,11 +1,5 @@
 % Untitled
-"There's a race of men that don't fit in,
-A race that can't sit still;
-So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
-And they roam the world at will."
-
--Robert Service
-
+'''
 # Notes
 
 - Need more details of landscape, sea, and marsh esp.
@@ -26,7 +20,8 @@ They eta waring from Ratham that McPhail is coming for them.
 How does the storm fit in?
 No good guys, no bad guys. her father helps both ratham and mcphail. Warns mcphail of the storm, helps bring his ship int to he esuary to shelther, they take the wagon to chareston.
 
-Overplot:
+
+# Overplot:
 
 - Opening in the stumps
 - Then Tambo and Gullah 
@@ -43,7 +38,7 @@ Overplot:
         - get to Ratham, they meet up with a third
         - Ships proceed to blockade charlestown.
     - Ratham helps the father escape, family escapes to sea, heads south toward the Caribean.
-
+'''
 
 # Prologue
 
@@ -65,20 +60,100 @@ By the time they arrived all the twins had left was a memory of trees. The deep
 
 # Autumn
 
-Wood and salt. Wooden salt. Crusted on the mast near her head were white patterns that looked like the drawings of snowflakes in Papa's book, wrapped in walrus leather and stored somewhere in the small hold below her. She did not know where. Neither did her sister. Neither did her brother. It was a mystery they worked on nearly every day they were at sea.
+"""
+Opening scene on the boat establishes birdie, always aware of her surroundings, always learning from her papa.
+
+Also needs to to introduce Lulu and Henri, Kobayashi, Tambo and his wife to be. At the end of the chapter, they land on Edisto, set up camp. Papa goes to fetch the cousins.
+
+"""
+
+The smell of wet wood and salt. She smelled the world creeping into her hammock before she ever opened her eyes. For the first moment it was just the soft sweetness of wood too long at sea and the bright briny salt smell of the sea itself. She opened her eyes and looked up. The canvas of the hammock wrapped up around here, there was only a sliver of purple twilight. She craned her head back to look at the dark brown mast, crusted with salty white patterns that looked like the drawings of snowflakes in Papa's book, which was wrapped carefully in walrus leather and stored somewhere in the small hold below her. She did not know where. Neither did her sister. Neither did her brother. It was a mystery they worked on nearly every day they were at sea.
+
+The wood creaked. Some of the salt blew loose. The water slapping the hull told her the waves were small. Her hammock, strung between mizzen mast and taffrail, swayed hardly at all. She lay without moving, trying to feel the boat as her father had taught her. She closed her eyes again. The boat was lifting and rolling slightly. They were moving with the current, but not as fast as the light swell rolling past them. At this latitude, this time of year, that would be south, as it had been for days now, although a swell moving south was called a northerly swell which always mixed her up. 
+
+The sail snapped like a whipped wet towel. That meant the wind was light. She listened again to the sound of the water. It pulsed, rushing by the boat in surges, quiet, then loud. The boat was moving fast enough that the wind probably wasn't light she reasoned. That meant they were running before the wind, otherwise the sail wouldn't have snapped. 
+
+"We're running south, riding a northerly swell, the wind is 6 knots" She announced from the hammock. She heard her sister groan, "show off". Her father chuckled. "You're close Birdie. I'd say dead on with speed and swell. More of a broad reach though. I fell off to snap the sheet so you two'd wake up. Sun will be up soon"
+
+Birdie smiled in her hammock. She stretched, lifting her arm out to feel the air. It was still cool, though wet and heavy. The sodden heat would come even earlier today, as it had every day for the last week. They would make winter camp the next day, maybe the day after, Birdie reasoned. She pulled her head up out of the hammock to scan the deck.
+
+The tk was 42 feet from her bow sprite to aft rail where Birdie's hammock was tied. There were two masts, one just fore of midship and another in the cockpit at the rear, where the other end of her hammock was tied. Her father was vague about her origins, or at least how the tk came to be in her family. As Birdie understood it, she was built in a place called France, sailed into Danish waters where she ran aground. Her cargo was offloaded and she was abandoned to the waves. That was not Poseidon's plan though. The tides had pulled her back out to sea. And her father, who happened to be on watch on another ship had spied her. Sensing his chance, he'd woken two companions, sailed along side her and the three trimmed the sails of their vessel, pointed her in the opposite direction and jumped ship for the new one.
+
+One of those companions, Tamba, a tall, powerfully man with skin so black it was almost blue, was walking toward Birdie. She hopped out of the hammock, her feet landing on the smoothly worn oak planking of the deck with a light thud. 
+
+"Morning Birdie" Tambo was from Gambia, across the ocean. An even hotter place, he had told her, which Birdie found difficult to believe. He had sailed with her father so long neither of them seemed to remember a time when they did not sail together.
+
+"Good morning Tambo." 
+
+He laid his hands on her shoulders and bent down to press his nose against hers. "Yes." he said and then he straightened up and spun her around to face the east where the sky was already fading from red and orange. "See. It comes."
+
+"Yes. The sun is rising. Again"
+
+She heard her father chuckle. Tambo laughed in a way her father never did, deeply, with a kind of rumble like a wagon on a washboard road. He shook her gently by the shoulder. "Appreciate. Always."
+
+"I do. I promise. But I'm hungry. Do you want rice Tambo?"
+
+He shook his head. A sleep voice from a hammock on the other side of mast piped up, "I do." 
+
+She could see her brother's unruly mop of hair sticking out the side of the hammock because slept very high up the hammock, almost as if he were standing up it seemed to her.
+
+"What about you Lulu?" She swung her sisters hammock gently.
 
-The wood creaked, some of the salt blew loose. The water slapping the hull told her the waves were small. Her hammock, strung between mizzen mast and taffrail, swayed hardly at all. She lay without moving, trying to feel the boat as her father had taught her. She closed her eyes again. The boat was lifting and rolling slightly. They were moving with the current, in a light swell. At this latitude, this time of year, that would be south. The sail snapped like a whipped wet towel. That meant the wind was light. She listened again to the sound of the water, it pulsed, rushing by the boat in surges, quiet, then loud. The boat was moving fast enough that the wind probably wasn't light she reasoned. That meant they were tk, otherwise the sail wouldn't have snapped. 
+"Yes."
 
-"We're running south, riding a southerly swell, the wind is 6 knots" She announced from the hammock. She heard her sister groan. Her father chuckled. "Close. We're not tk, more a broad reach. I just fell off and let the sail flap to wake you two up."
+"Papa?"
 
-Birdie smiled in her hammock. She stretched, lifting her arm out to feel the air. It was still cool, though wet and heavy. The sodden heat would come even earlier today, as it had every day for the last week. They would make winter camp the next day, maybe the day after Birdie reasoned. She pulled her head up out of the hammock to scan the deck.
+He nodded to her and then turned back around to watch the sun rise. Birdie ran aft, ducking under booms, and hopping over the coiled lines and small barrels stacked along the gunwales, a name she did not understand since there were no cannon on the tk. Well, none on the gunwale anyway. Below deck in the stern were two small cannon loaded with forks and knives designed to shred an enemies sails. The tk is small, Tambo once told her. We would be blown to bits by a cannon, but we're fast, we can outrun them all. We have just enough fire power to convince any other small, fast ships not to chase us. That's all we need. 
 
-The tk was 39 feet from her bow sprite to rear rail where Lulu's hammock was tied. There were two masts, one just fore of midship and another in the cockpit at the rear. Her father was vague about her origins, though as Birdie understood it, she was built in a place called France, sailed into tk waters where she ran aground. Her cargo was offloaded and she was abandoned to the waves. That was not Poseidon's plan though. The tides had pulled her back out to see. And her father, who happened to be on watch on another merchant ship had spied her. Sensing his chance, he'd woken two companions, sailed along side her and the three trimmed sails of their vessel and jumped ship for the new one.
+She ducked into the small doorway that led below decks, hands on the rails and flung herself down with a single leap. It was much darker below, it took her eyes a moment to adjust. She could see the glow of the stove and Kobayashi's form bent over, stirring a pot. He never looked up at her thud. He kicked a clay pot by his feet so that it slid slightly toward her. She grabbed a basket hanging from the rafters and scooped rice out of the pot and into it. 
 
-One of those companions, Tamba, a tall, powerfully man with skin so black it was almost blue, was walking after now toward Birdie. She hopped out of the hammock, her feet landing on the smoothly worn oak planking of the deck with a light thud. 
+He handed her several strips of dried fish, which she balanced on top of the pile of rice. "Aiiie. You eat everything." Kobayashi smiled. 
 
+"It's for everyone" she said tucking the lid on. 
 
+Make sure your brother eats some, that boy is too skinny.
 
+"You sound like Kadi." Kobayashi frowned at her, but but she hardly noticed, the thought of Kadiatu made her heart flutter like a bird's wings. Only a few more days and they would be at Edisto. Kadiatu and her family would join them, her cousins would be there. They'd have the forest to run through, the dunes, they'd have space again. Birdie loved the sea, the way it held and rocked them, the way the boat glided through it, but she always felt a guest at sea. It was like visiting a distant relatives, you have a connection, but it is an old one that's difficult to put your finger on, like the memory of a smell you can't quite smell again, you try to sniff deeper, but the harder you try the more it receeds. The soul of the sea was too old, to vague to under stand in a human way. Very few could ever feel at home in the sea. Birdie felt at home on the land. It was there at the shore, the edge, the space where the ancient sea met the land today that she felt most herself. 
+
+She managed the trip out of the hold with one hand on the ladder, one carrying the basket of rice and dried fish. The rolling motion of the swells moving beneath them way it difficult to walk evenly. She lurched and stumbled her way to stern where everyone was waiting for the cold rice and dried fish. She'd be happy to eat some meat again. She hoped Papa and Tamba would go hunting as soon as they landed. They'd run out the last of the Pemmican two weeks before when they were held up in the outer islands by a late season storm. They'd spent the better part of two days beached, living under the tipped over hull, huddled out of the wind and rain, spitting the sand out of their mouths and wishing for sunshine.
+
+When they finally floated tk again after the storm had past the rough seas seemed like nothing, anything was better than being wet and cold and chewing sand in the ceaseless wind. 
+
+The wind had born them south, hugging the shoreline, out of the strong northward current that ran further offshore. They saw sails only twice and both times the ships were too far over the horizon to see more than a top sail. They were big her father said. This morning they were using a favorable offshore breeze to ride out further so they would only be a small bit a sail on the horizon to anyone with a spyglass standing on the shore in Charlestown. 
+
+Running downwind, as they were, meant they were moving at the same speed as the wind. So even though there was wind all around them, it felt still, dead still, and the warm humid Florida air was like sitting inside a wet wool sweater. Birdie sat in the slight shade of the sail, with her back against the mizzen, alternately watching the shoreline for signs of Charlestown, and whittling a whistle she was planning to use to find duck nests when they got the island.
+
+Her father, Tambo, and Kobayashi sat in the stern, taking turns tending the wheel. She did not turn around to see who was at the wheel, she could feel the boat and knew it was her father. The other two were probably smoking their pipes, and scanning the horizon for any sign of sail. They'd all done close to the same every day for the past ten days, but now it felt different. Birdie sensed a tension that had not been there when they were in the north. A tension that had not been there, she stopped whittling for a moment and considered it. Had she ever sensed a tension? She could not recall every feeling the tightness in her chest that she felt now. It felt like something was swelling in the air around them, squeezing them somehow. Her father's voice brought her back to the ship.
+
+"You two should relax."
+
+Tambo grunted. "Easier for you to say."
+
+"Well then at least put your glass more to the north, They'll not cross the stream where we did, they'll stay out longer. They're provisioned better, have more sails. Why would they sail these shallows?"
+
+"Because they people they are hunting sail these shallows."
+
+"They aren't hunting you Tam. They aren't hunting anyone. They're coming to retake Nassau."
+
+"You think they will?" She heard Kobayashi tapping his pipe out on the taffrail with sharp clicks.
+
+"No."
+
+The rumors from early in the summer, up on the cape, were that the British were planning to retake Nassau soon, and would very likely be putting in at Charlestown before they did. 
+
+You don't think they'll come at all or you don't think they take Nassau.
+
+I don't think they'll come at all. Not this year. They'll retake Nassau someday. They can't let Vane have run of the place forever. But they aren't coming this year."
+
+"How can you be so sure"
+
+"Have I ever steered us wrong before?
+
+"Yes" Tambo and Kobayashi spoke in chorus and Birdie laughed. Her father laughed as well. 
+
+"Fair enough. Well, on this one you'll have to trust me. No British warships coming to take Nassau this year." 
+
+Neither of the other men said anything. 
 
 
 
@@ -96,9 +171,9 @@ She licked her lip, pulling the beads of sweat into her mouth and savoring the s
 
 Lulu hopped from stump to stump. Crouching down, her knees bent like coiled springs and then sprong, she exploded toward the next stump, landed, teetered, stopped there. There were plenty of stumps. The whole forest was gone. 
 
-"Cut em down for the Guvner's mansion," her father had grumbled earlier in the boat. In the bow Tamba rotated his powerful upper body, careful not to let his weight move side to side, and smiled knowingly at her. "Rice lulu. They cut em down for rice. They sell the timber to the city." Tamba smiled again, rolling his eyes toward the sky. They both knew her father, who was standing in the stern of the boat, pushing them through the marsh with the long pine pole, could not see Tamba's rolled eyes beneath his hat. But the both waited and heard him grumble again, stop rolling your eyes at me Tamba. They all laughed. "The rice will give us food, we won't have to buy it."
+"Cut em down for the Guvner's mansion," her father had grumbled earlier in the boat. In the bow Tamba rotated his body, careful not to let his weight move side to side, and smiled knowingly at her. "Rice lulu. They cut em down for rice. They sell the timber to the city." Tamba smiled again, rolling his eyes toward the sky. They both knew her father, who was standing in the stern of the boat, pushing them through the marsh with the long pine pole, could not see Tamba's rolled eyes beneath his hat. But the both waited and heard him grumble again, stop rolling your eyes at me Tamba. They all laughed. "The rice will give us food. We won't have to buy it."
 
-Lulu heard her father grunt. Tamba turned around again the boat slid silently along the edge of the marsh, where a thin line of trees still stood, offering some shade from the already brutal mid morning sun.
+Lulu heard her father grunt. Tamba turned around again. The boat slid silently along the edge of the marsh, where a thin line of trees still stood, offering some shade from the already brutal mid morning sun.
 
 The water ran out right before the line of great oaks started. There were clumps of prickly, fan-leaved palmetto trees growing beneath the oaks. The muddy bank of the marsh quickly gave way to the dark coloured clay, mixed with sand and hundreds of years of leafy hummus. This was the soil, rich in nutrients that would grow rice. "For a time at least," her father had said as he dragged the small pirogue up onto the muddy clay bank, next to stand of palmetto and tied the pirogue to a tree. But you take away the pine and it all goes, nothing will hold this soil."
 
@@ -616,4 +691,9 @@ Tamba asks them their names, asks if they can sail. They buy someone that can an
 
 # Glossary
 
-Taffrail rail round the stern of a ship 
+**Taffrail**: Rail round the stern of a ship 
+**Northerly swell**: a swell moving from north to south
+**Southerly swell**: a swell moving from south to north
+**Southerly wind**: a wind blowing from the south to the north
+**Northerly wind**: a wind blowing from the north to the south.
+