diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'lbh.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | lbh.txt | 56 |
1 files changed, 29 insertions, 27 deletions
@@ -12,28 +12,28 @@ The whispering wind followed them out of the town where they spent their winters Their father spent all summer, a cold summer, sitting in the evenings, outside the tent, stroking his thick black beard and studying the wind and waves. There are storms worse than the sea, he said. -That year, when the last the southerlies blew out and before the northerlies turned fierce and cold, they loaded the small boat and slipped out of the old story. +That year, when the last of the southerlies blew out, and before the northerlies turned fierce and cold, they loaded the small boat and slipped out of the old story. They kept to the coast, giving wide berth to the places men gathered. When they came upon the marshy lowlands of London, they put in for a time. A brother arrived, his mother too left as he came. Their father grew even quieter for a time, then he disappeared altogether. -When he returned the winds blew favorably again and they left, hugging the coast until there was no coast left. And they were gone again. To a new world where people said the soldiers were fewer, the winds warmer, the possibilities wider. +When he returned there was a new boat, the winds blew favorably again, and they left, hugging the coast until there was no coast left. To a new world where the soldiers were fewer, the winds warmer, the possibilities wider. -By the time they arrived all the twins had left was a memory of trees. The deep darkness of the forest floor where they would lie as babies, staring up at the trees, the branches reaching like thick fingers to scratch at the light of the sky above. +By the time they sighted that new world all the twins had left from the land of their birth was a memory of tall trees. The deep darkness of the forest floor where they would lie as babies, staring up at the slivers of blue, the branches reaching like thick fingers to scratch at the light of the sky above. # Main ## Chapter 1: Aboard *Wanderer* -The smell of wet wood and salt. The soft sweetness of cedar too long at sea. The bright briny smell of the wind. She opened her eyes and looked up. A sliver of purple twilight peeked through the canvas of the hammock wrapped up around her. 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 big book, which was wrapped carefully in walrus leather and stored somewhere in the hold beneath the deck. +The scent of wet wood and salt mixed with the soft sweetness of cedar too long at sea. The bright briny smell of the wind. She opened her eyes and looked up. A sliver of purple twilight peeked through the canvas of the hammock wrapped up around her. 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 big book, which was wrapped carefully in walrus leather and stored somewhere in the hold beneath the deck. 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, this close to shore, 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. If the wind were heavier the sail would be stretched tight and silent. 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 15 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" +"We're running south, riding a northerly swell, the wind is 8 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 camp the next day, maybe the day after, Birdie reasoned. She pulled her head up out of the hammock to scan the deck. -Wanderer was 62 feet from her bow sprite to aft rail where Birdie's hammock was tied. She was a gaff rigged Jamaican sloop. Built of strong cedar, sweet smelling. 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 Wanderer came to be his. As Birdie understood it, she was built in a place called Jamaica, sailed all the way to the coast of a place called France 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 in the night. Sensing his chance, he'd woken two companions, sailed alongside her and the three trimmed the sails of their vessel, pointed her in the opposite direction and jumped ship for the new one. +Wanderer was 62 feet from her bow sprite to aft rail where Birdie's hammock was tied. She was a gaff rigged Jamaican sloop. Built of strong cedar, sweet smelling. 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 Wanderer came to be his. As Birdie understood it, she was built in a place called Jamaica, sailed all the way to the coast of a place called France where she ran aground. Her cargo was offloaded and she was abandoned to the waves. That was not Poseidon's plan though. The tides pulled her back out to sea, and her father, who happened to be on watch on another ship that night, spied her bobbing in the waves. Sensing a chance that would never come again, he'd woken two companions, sailed alongside her, and then 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, was walking toward Birdie. Tamba was a tall, powerfully built man who had sailed most of the way around the world with her father. They had sailed together long enough that neither of them seemed to remember a time when they did not sail together. Tamba was her second father, though she never called him Papa. She hopped out of the hammock, her feet landing on the smooth oak planking of the deck with a light thud. @@ -45,7 +45,7 @@ He laid his hands on her shoulders and bent down to press his nose against hers. "Yes. The sun is rising. Again" -She heard her father chuckle. Tamba 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." +She heard her father chuckle. Then Tamba laughed. He 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 Tamba?" @@ -59,11 +59,11 @@ She could see her brother's unruly mop of hair sticking out the side of the hamm "Papa?" -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 guns on Wanderer. Well, none on the gunwale anyway. Below deck, in the stern, were two small cannon loaded with forks and knives designed to shred an enemy's sails. "Wanderer is small," Tamba 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." +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 guns on Wanderer. Well, none on the gunwale anyway. Below deck, in the stern, were two small cannon loaded with forks and knives designed to shred an enemy's sails. "Wanderer is small," Tamba 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. Never use more than you need." -She ducked into the small doorway that covered the ladder leading below decks. Keeping her hands on the rails -- always keep one hand on the boat was her father's mantra -- she flung herself down with a single leap, bypassing the wooden ladder completely. 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. +She ducked into the small doorway that covered the ladder leading below decks. Keeping her hands on the rails -- always keep one hand on the boat was her father's mantra -- she flung herself down with a single leap, bypassing the wooden ladder completely. It was much darker below. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, but then she could make out the glow of the stove and Kobayashi's form bent over the fire, 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. -He spooned broth from the boiling pot on the stove, and handed her several strips of dried fish, which she balanced on top of the pile of rice. "Aiiie. You eat everything." Kobayashi smiled. +Kobayashi was the smallest of the three, but he had a way of seeming immense when he wanted to, as if he could expand and grow at will. Or so it seemed to Birdie. 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. @@ -71,19 +71,19 @@ He spooned broth from the boiling pot on the stove, and handed her several strip "You sound like Aunt Māra." -Kobayashi frowned at her, but she hardly noticed. Just the thought of Aunt Māra and Birdie's cousins made her heart flutter like a bird's wings. Only a few more days and they would be at Edisto. 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, and it buoyed the along, still, it was the shoreline that she watched most often. It was there at the shore, the edge, the space where the sea met the land that she felt most herself. +Kobayashi frowned at her, but she hardly noticed. Just the thought of Aunt Māra and Birdie's cousins made her heart flutter like a bird's wings. Only a few more days and they would be at Edisto Island. 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, and it buoyed the along, still, it was the shoreline that she watched most often. It was there at the shore, the edge, the space where the sea met the land that she felt most herself. She managed the basket of food with one hand, careful to keep the other on the ladder as she ascended back into the light of the deck. The rolling motion of the swells moving beneath them made it difficult to walk evenly. -She lurched and stumbled her way to stern where everyone was waiting for the rice and dried fish. She'd be happy to eat some fresh meat again. She hoped Papa and Tamba would go hunting as soon as they made land. She hoped this year she'd be able to hunt too. Her father had promised her last year that this year she could hunt. But for now she'd settle for something besides fish. +She lurched and stumbled her way to stern where everyone was waiting for the rice and dried fish. She'd be happy to eat some fresh meat again. She hoped Papa and Tamba would go hunting as soon as they made land. She hoped this year she'd be able to hunt too. Her father had promised her last year that this year she would be allow to hunt and the wrestle. But for now she'd settle for something, anything, besides fish. -They'd run out of 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 almost entirely below deck, huddled out of the wind and rain, wishing for sunshine. When they finally floated Wanderer again after the storm had passed, a few days of rough seas seemed like nothing. Anything was better than being wet and cold and chewing sand in the ceaseless wind. +They'd run out of 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 five days beached, living almost entirely below deck, huddled out of the wind and rain, wishing for sunshine. When they finally floated Wanderer again after the storm had passed, a few days of rough seas seemed like nothing. Anything was better than being wet and cold and chewing sand in the ceaseless wind. -The remains of that wind had borne them south quickly though. They'd hugged 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. +The remains of that wind had borne them south quickly. They'd hugged 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. -Yesterday the wind had finally let up and Birdie had her first good night's sleep in a week. This morning they were using a favorable offshore breeze to ride out further to sea. They wanted some distance from the land as they passed Charlestown. To anyone with a spyglass standing on the shore at the mouth of the Ashley river they would only be a tiny bit a sail on the horizon. The pilot boats that helped merchant ships navigate the narrow shoals up the river into Charlestown harbor kept a sharp eye out for sails. And not every ship in these seas was welcome on the land. Birdie's family liked to keep to themselves, they gave cities a wide berth most of the time. +Yesterday the wind had finally let up and Birdie had her first good night's sleep in a week. This morning they were using a favorable offshore breeze to ride out further to sea. They wanted some distance from the land as they passed Charlestown. To anyone with a spyglass standing on the shore at the mouth of the Ashley river Wanderer would only be a tiny bit a sail on the horizon. The pilot boats that helped merchant ships navigate the narrow shoals up the river into Charlestown harbor kept a sharp eye out for sails. And not every ship in these seas was welcome on the land. Birdie's family liked to keep to themselves. They only went to towns when they needed supplies and even then their father liked to take the roads rather than bring Wanderer anywhere near a port. -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. The warm humid Carolina 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 to the island. +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. The warm, humid Carolina 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 call ducks when they got to the island. That way she could raid their nests for eggs, a treat she could only dream of at sea. Her father, Tamba, 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 done close to the same thing every day since they'd rounded the cape, but now it felt different. Birdie sensed a tension that had not been there when they were farther 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. @@ -101,23 +101,23 @@ Tamba grunted. "Easier for you to say." "No." -The rumors from early in the summer, up in the north, were that the British were planning to retake the Bahamaian port of Nassau soon. Once abandoned as useless, pirates had found a use for Nassau and for two seasons running they had openly controlled, administered, governed, and otherwise run the port of Nassau. The entire western coast of the Atlantic talked of nothing but pirates. Birdie and her family had overhead plenty during their summer stay on Block Island, a small, nearly bare island off the coast of the colony of Rhode Island. It had no good harbor, little land worth farming, and almost no one went there, making it a popular destination for ships with cargoes that could not sail into Boston proper and expect a warm welcome. +The rumors from early in the summer, up in the north, were that the British were coming to put an end to piracy. The put Charlestown back on the righteous path as one broadsheet they'd seen had proclaimed. The entire western coast of the Atlantic talked of nothing but pirates that summer. Birdie and her family had overhead plenty during their stay on Block Island, a small, nearly bare island off the coast of the colony of Rhode Island. It had no good harbor, little land worth farming, and almost no one went there, making it a popular destination for ships with cargoes that could not sail into Boston proper and expect a warm welcome. -Wanderer was not a pirate vessel, and did not sail with pirate vessels, but it, and Birdie along with it, definitely knew and spent time with ships and crews that were often called pirate by those that spread rumors up and down the Atlantic coast of the colony. Rumors were always saying the British are coming, her father said, and the British never actually came, or came to the wrong place, or not enough of them came. Birdie had lost track of what it was the British did and didn't do. They were about as real as the black and white birds that couldn't fly that Kobayashi swore he had seen on a trip around Cape Horn. +Wanderer was not a pirate vessel, and did not sail with pirate vessels, but it, and Birdie along with it, definitely knew and spent time with ships and crews that were often called pirate by those that spread rumors up and down the Atlantic coast of the colony. Rumors were always saying the British are coming, her father said, and the British never actually came, or came to the wrong place, or not enough of them came. Birdie had lost track of what it was the British did and didn't do. They seemed about as real as the black and white birds that couldn't fly that Kobayashi swore he had seen on a trip around Cape Horn. -"You don't think they'll come at all, or you don't think they take Nassau." Tamba's voice was low, as if he didn't want Birdie and her sibling to here this part of the discussion. +"You don't think they'll come at all." Tamba's voice was low, as if he didn't want Birdie and her sibling to here this part of the discussion. -"I don't think they'll come at all. Not this year. They'll retake Nassau someday. They can't let Hornigold have run of the place forever. But they aren't coming this year. Or the next." +"I don't think they'll come at all. Not this year. Or the next." "How can you be so sure" "Have I ever steered us wrong before? -"Yes" Tamba and Kobayashi spoke in chorus. Birdie laughed. She heard her father laugh too. +"Yes." Tamba and Kobayashi spoke in chorus. Birdie laughed. She heard her father laugh too. -"Okay. But on this one you'll have to trust me. No British warships coming to take Nassau this year." +"Okay. But on this one you'll have to trust me. No British warships coming to Charlestown this year." -Neither of the other men said anything. The silence stretched out until Henry came running from the bow, careening the length of the ship without ever touching a railing or handhold, yet somehow never losing his footing. She watched him shove his hand in the basket, pull out a handful of now dried out rice, and then turn and run back the length of the ship, again without touching anything or seeming to stumble, and then disappear into the hold where he was playing with Lulu. She envied him, those sea legs. Even her father seemed somewhat taken aback by Henry's sea legs. But he usually just shrugged and said, "I guess that's how it is when you're raised on the sea." +Neither of the other men said anything. The silence stretched out until Henry came running from the bow, careening the length of the ship without ever touching a railing or handhold, yet somehow never losing his footing. Birdie watched him shove his hand in the basket, pull out a handful of now dried out rice, and then turn and run back the length of the ship, again without touching anything or seeming to stumble, and then disappear into the hold where he was playing with Lulu. She envied him, those sea legs. Even her father seemed somewhat taken aback by Henry's sea legs. But he just shrugged and said, "I guess that's how it is when you're raised on the sea." Birdie had been two and a half years old, when Henry was born. She had only a few fuzzy memories of Henry's mother. Dark hair leaning over her. The sunset in a window behind her. They had lived for a time on shore. Near the Thames. Her father worked on ships. A woman watched Birdie and her sister during the day. Sometimes her father would hire on a ship and be gone for several weeks. The last of these trips was nearly two months. Birdie remembered sitting under the table with Lulu, both of them crying, while the woman who watched them spoke to a harbor master about storms and her father's ship going down. @@ -127,7 +127,7 @@ Neither she nor Lulu had any memories of their own mother, save the stories she She was startled out of a midday drowse by Tamba's shout from the bow. "I see the bank." Birdie jumped up and ran to the bow (grabbing on the way the mizzen mast, rails, lines and other hand holds, as normal people do on a ship), racing past Lulu and Henry coming out of the hold. She nearly slammed into Tamba, but managed to hit the rail next to him instead. She followed his finger and saw the light green patch that marked the bank. -The bank was a deposit of sand and silt that started a few hundred yards out from the north fork of the Edisto river and stretched between half a mile and a mile out to sea, depending on the year. It was high tide, the bank was still under water, but this year it looked to be shorter than usual. The bank was where they did most of their fishing, and last year they'd even careened a very large ship on it. Birdie had not been allow to come on that ship, but she, her siblings, her cousins, and some of the local kids had all sat on the end of the island and watched as three smaller ships careened the largest ship Birdie had ever seen, a ship called Revenge. +The bank was a deposit of sand and silt that started a few hundred yards out from the north fork of the Edisto river and stretched between half a mile and a mile out to sea, depending on the year. It was high tide, the bank was still under water, but this year it looked to be shorter than usual. The bank was where they did most of their fishing, and last year they'd even careened a very large ship on it. Birdie had not been allow to come on that ship, but she, her siblings, her cousins, and some of the local kids had all sat on the end of the island and watched as three smaller ships careened the largest ship Birdie had ever seen, a ship called *Revenge*. Birdie ran astern to tell her father what they had seen, but he was already standing on the Taffrail, glass to his eye. "Bit smaller this year, eh Birdie?" @@ -149,9 +149,11 @@ Birdie pulled in the porgy, which was big enough to feed them all in a stew. Lul "Coming about," Her father yelled. Birdie instinctively ducked as the booms creaked and groaned and lines whirled and the ship pitched from starboard to port and pointed her nose at a sharp angle to shore. -Wanderer was light, fast and maneuverable. She had a short keel that made it possible to bring her nearly a mile up the Edisto river if they needed. Their winter home was nowhere near that far up river. They made their camp on the island, a mere quarter mile from the Atlantic shore. Wanderer would be kept further up in the marsh though, protected from storms by a massive stand of lobblolly pine that sheltered the marsh. +Wanderer was light, fast and maneuverable. She had a short keel that made it possible to bring her nearly a mile up the Edisto river if they needed. Their winter home was nowhere near that far up river. -The worst part of winter camp was arriving. Every year they had to beat upwind, while also fighting the current of the river and constantly sounding to watch for shallows in the muddy brown river mouth. Even now, still a quarter mile off shore, Kobayashi and Tamba were hauling up the sounding lines while her father shortened the traveler so they could beat closer to the wind. +They made their camp on the island, a mere quarter mile from the Atlantic shore. Wanderer would be kept further up in the marsh though, protected from storms by a massive stand of lobblolly pine that sheltered the marsh. + +The worst part of winter camp was arriving. Every year they had to beat upwind, while also fighting the current of the river and constantly sounding to watch for shallows in the muddy brown river mouth. Even now, still a quarter mile off shore, Kobayashi and Tamba were hauling up the sounding lines while her father shortened the lines so they could beat closer to the wind. All Birdie wanted was to get ashore and see Aunt Māra and her cousins. She went below and stowed her fishing gear. She and Lulu climbed to the crows nest on the main mast and began watching for light patches of water that meant shallows. @@ -159,7 +161,7 @@ Their father tacked Wanderer back and forth up and down the windward side of the Last year they had to paddle in using two oars that her father had carved from great thin pine trees. It had taken two days of waiting for the wind to die and another half day of paddling. This year the gods smiled on them. The wind shifted to the north enough that they could take right into the mouth of the river where they dropped the main sail and landed just as the sun was disappearing in the tangled trees that was now their western horizon. -Everyone on the island had seen them come in, but they were still too deep in the marsh to make it to camp before dark. They made the last meal of the season on the ship with Birdie's fish and hatched plans to get Wanderer unloaded the next morning. Birdie, Lulu, and Henry fell asleep making plans for what they would do when they saw their cousins the next day. +Everyone on the island had seen them come in, but they were still too deep in the marsh to make it to camp before dark. They made a stew of Birdie's fish and slept one last night on the ship. While the men hatched plans to get Wanderer unloaded the next morning, Birdie, Lulu, and Henry fell asleep making plans for what they would do when they saw their cousins the next day. ## Chapter 2: Edisto Landing |