by Marie Hall
Again, the crew, which excluded her. “I’m not. Go without me.”
“Mia?”
“I said go without me. See to the crew.” She sat back and folded her arms over her chest.
“Mia?” he tried again but she simply turned to stare at the wall. “I’ll have a tray brought in then,” he said as he stepped out.
“Don’t bother,” Mia shouted after him. “Cargo doesn’t eat,” she muttered, doubting he even heard her. “Cargo,” she repeated the word. Well cargo didn’t get stowed in the captain’s quarters either. Collecting her belongings, she headed below, two decks to the hold where the stores of dry food goods were kept. The ship was close enough to ports and islands it was only about half full even when they were starting the four-month sailing round they did. It was here that Mia’s belongs were placed.
Dropping what she carried, she began arranging her trunks and the netting holding them so they didn’t slip around as the ship rolled and pitched on the seas. She kept a few trunks out intending to retrieve things from them as soon as she was set up. She was in the midst of lifting a trunk so it sat three high and she’d be able to hang a bed when Grim stepped in, took it from her and placed it how she wanted with a kind smile.
“Mia,” Hong called as he carried in a tray with bread and boiled pork. He began scolding almost as soon as he set it down, but as she sat and ate he helped Grim arrange the space as she wanted. Mia ate and once everything was situated she fetched a game from one of the trunks left to the side and she, Grim, and Hong played a competitive round.
Mia did take note when Mr. Brinks stepped in for a moment, but he was gone before she could ask what he wanted. She’d just told Grim she knew he was cheating as they played another game when she heard the deck bell sound. Everyone was readying for the night. Her eyes went to the hammock swinging between the wall and her trunks. Bed would be a cold place. Mr. Hong suggested one more game before they found rest and Mia started arranging the game pieces, not wanting to rush into a lonely night.
“Mia?” His call stiffened her spine and she didn’t bother to turn and look at him when he stepped up behind her. “Mia, it’s late.” She reached for the die and rolled. “Don’t start another game Mia, it’s time for bed.”
“Then go to bed, Captain,” she told him and indicated Grim should roll next.
“Mia.” The warning in his tone was clear. “Clear this away and step lively. It’ll be another long day tomorrow.”
“It’ll be another long day for the crew,” she said and reached for the dice. “I’m not a part of that.”
“Mia, I want to find my bed.” Again, she didn’t miss the warning.
“Do you need a map and compass?” she asked and caught Grim trying not to smile.
“No,” Devin sounded confused by the question.
“Then shove off,” she snapped and heard Mr. Hong mutter a warning of his own.
“Don’t tell me to shove off, Mrs. Winthrop,” Devin snapped back, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. “Stow this away and come to bed.”
Mia shook off his hold and sat back down. “I’ll find my berth when I’m good and ready.”
“What has gotten into you?” Devin asked, coming down on his knee beside her.
“Not a damn thing today; same as it’ll be tonight. Sleep sound, Captain,” Mia said, then again took up the die for her next play. His finger took hold of her chin and try as she might she couldn’t resist his turning her face towards his.
“I don’t know what you play at Mia, but don’t think I’ll tolerate it for long. I’m going to bed. I expect you to follow.” Devin stood then and without another word climbed the ladder that took him up to the quarters they’d shared so dramatically last night.
“You’ll be disappointed, I’m sure,” she muttered when she was sure he couldn’t hear her.
“Mia,” Hong warned. She only shrugged then shrugged again when she caught the look Grim gave her.
If she was not crew, she was cargo and if that was all she was that was how she’d behave until they found port and she could get off the ship. But as the days stretched out it was easier said than done. As boredom set in, Mia searched her trunks for her log book and some tools. They weren’t going to find port for some time, it seemed, and she needed either off the ship or something more constructive to keep her occupied. Mia reasoned she might need to find another manner in which to avoid Devin as he came for her after only three days and he wasn’t pleasant about it. What she planned would meet her every need.
Chapter 18
Devin watched from the helm as his wife again leaned forward over the supplies she’d gathered at the bow. It took almost two weeks to figure out what she was working on, but now everyone could see how masterfully she’d constructed her little raft.
Using only scraps of wood and discarded metal fittings, Mia put together a rather impressive vessel. Not yet fully realized only because she was conscientious enough to know she couldn’t leave the deck littered with the project overnight and needed to stow it out of the way. She did that by wrapping it in netting and hanging it over the rail when it got too dark to work or the crew needed to occupy the space she used.
The crew. Devin shook his head and sighed. It’d been a mistake of sorts to tell Mia she wasn’t part of it. He’d not thought she’d take such offense. And he let her have her tantrum over it for three days before he dragged her back on deck to have it out with her for taking up quarters in the hold. By then it was already too late. She shut up tighter than a clam. Hardly said a word to him. Wouldn’t respond to any of his orders. Not until he spun her away from him and landed his hand hard on her ass did she react. Spinning back to face him and taking a closed-fist swing at his head.
Mutiny was all over her face and not wanting to make any more of a public display of their discourse, Devin picked her up and carried her kicking and screaming to their quarters. He set her down and gave her ass a second good smack, then a third. And when the fight didn’t leave her, he dragged her to the bench set his foot up and tossed her over his knee that he could have a more proper go at it. He’d landed a good ten spanks before she cried out for him to stop. He stayed his hand but left it poised and ready to go again. “Are you willing to discuss this now?”
“Let me up,” was her response.
“All right, Mia,” he said dropping his foot to the floor, “but you’ll find yourself keel up again if you don’t cooperate.” He helped her stand then stepped back in case she got any idea about trying to hit him again. She didn’t try, rather she wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve and crossed to the far side of the cabin.
“Well, what do you want?” she all but snarled at him.
“I want to know why you’ve taken up quarters below decks and won’t so much as join me for a meal.”
“Join you? Why would I join you? Why would I think I should?” Again she wiped her face with her sleeve. “The captain works with his crew. He dines with the crew. I’m not part of the crew. I’m cargo. I want off this ship. Find land and set me ashore.”
Her words hit him broadside, hard. “Mia, you’re not cargo.”
“No? What am I then? Is this a passenger ship?” She gestured around the space. The bulkhead with various blades and pistols hanging on, the table with maps and other navigational tools, the utter lack of anything unnecessary to commanding a naval war vessel. Some captains put deeper personal marks on their ships. Devin didn’t.
“No, it’s not a passenger ship,” he started, not sure why she was so put out. “But you’re not cargo. You are a passenger. It’s that simple.
“I can’t possibly be a passenger. Passengers have a destination they’ll reach. They’re put ashore, not held at sea for months on end. If I’m a passenger, then put me ashore. I want off this ship.”
“I was under the impression, Mia, you could handle long periods at sea.”
“Of course I can. As part of a crew, with something to do,” she shouted at him. “But I’m not
part of this ship. I want off. I’m done with being nothing more than cargo and having no other use than to spread my legs for you at night. If that’s all I’m good for put me ashore so I might earn a few coins doing it.”
“The hell I will,” Devin shouted and stepped towards her only to stop when he saw the fear in her expression. Was that how she truly felt? That she was of no other use? Well of course, because he’d not set her any purpose after cracking down on the crew for passing their duties on to her. “Mia,” he tried again with less hurt and anger, “each member of the crew needs to do their own, not get in the habit of handing the line.” He watched her face for any sign she was going to stop listening to him. He wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know, having captained a ship of her own. “We’re a small crew, yes, but I have it this way so all aboard can take turns learning to do each task, and become proficient and continue on if they choose this as a career. If you step in and do the work for them, what do they learn? That they needn’t do as ordered?” He waited but only got a shrug from her. “The crew is tight and functions well together.”
“So I won’t find a place among them?” She sounded rather heartbroken and all he could do was shrug. “Put me ashore, find a place. It need not be a port, but put me ashore and come back when I might have a use other than warming your bed.” She headed for the door, but he caught her before she made it out.
“No, Mia,” he said sternly.
She knew he wouldn’t be swayed.
“I’m not setting you ashore. You’ll have to find something you can do apart from the crew to occupy your time.”
“What do you expect that I should sit and do needlework?” she practically shrieked.
Devin was a bit surprised at how quickly she could shift moods—heartbroken to insulted in less than a minute. “If that is what you find to do,” was his answer. “But you’ll do it above deck and you’ll resume your place in these quarters. You are not crew Mia. You’ll accept this and carry on.”
He’d left her then, ignoring the sound of her foot stomping down only because he’d been the cause of the frustration she felt. She did return to his quarters, but she brought her hammock with her and strung it on the opposite side from the bunk he used. And she continued to refuse to eat meals with anyone save Grim and Mr. Hong. Devin avoided most questions about her behavior for a while, then gave in and said Mia was pouting because he’d declared she wasn’t part of the crew and wasn’t to act as if she was. The looks he received from the men at the table startled him. They looked quite skeptical of his decision, but said nothing. A few days later Mr. Franks, the ship’s carpenter, said Mia was asking to make use of some wood and tools. Not seeing the harm and if staying busy was what she wanted, he gave consent to let her have anything she might want as long as it wouldn’t leave the ship short.
Now, weeks of watching her measure and write things in her log book, fit pieces of lumber, carve short dowels to lock the boards together, and make miraculous use of otherwise useless items, Devin couldn’t deny when Mia set her mind to something she accomplished it. And no one could deny she knew everything to know about ships and sailing. It may only be a plain raft she built on his bow deck but she used every perfected skill any master shipbuilder would use. And though she answered questions when members of the crew paused to watch her work, she spoke with a clipped tone that discouraged them inquiring further. Several times Mr. Franks suggested Mia teach the crew how to do what she was doing, admitting that some of it was more than he had the skill to do.
It was a thought. Perhaps Mia could give a lesson or two. Perhaps it would bring her back from the island she’d placed herself on. Holding her apart from them was a mistake. She stayed busy, but as Mr. Hong pointed out every chance he got, it didn’t make her happy. She demanded Devin put her ashore somewhere nearly every day. And more than once he’d lain awake listening to her sniffing back sobs.
“Mr. Brinks. The helm if you will,” Devin said stepping away to let the young officer take the wheel. With a last look toward Mia, who with Grim’s help was stowing her project for the day, he made his way to their cabin. His books were open. He was checking to see what things were left for the crew to do before they turned out toward their last point then headed for port.
His regular route took him from Cartagena east-northeast to the fifteenth parallel and past the many small islands of the eastern Caribbean, then north through open waters to the ninetieth before he turned west to the passage that lay between the two large islands of Haiti and Cuba. Once through, he’d head directly south past Montego Bay, finding a larger port once Cartagena was in sight.
The entire trip took between five and six months, depending on winds and currents, and was usually broken up with a few days in the small ports that were friendly to an English war ship. Most were, but Devin didn’t care to deal with any harassment that might be had with Mia on board. He had been avoiding most of the common stops they made with the adjusted course to ensure Mia had no chance to jump ship.
The crew, like Mia, were growing restless, and he feared resentful, because there no way to hide the fact they avoided some ports because of her. He needed to find other things besides mending sails and nets to keep them focused and in order.
Flipping through the pages he happened on an entry not repeated in more than a year. It could be the very thing they all needed. He made an entry and that night at supper as he tried to ignore the empty chair to his right, he announced his intent to have the whole crew practice drills for abandon ship, towing, man overboard, and basic swimming and floating skills. They’d also practice manning the guns and hitting targets. No current wars didn’t mean they shouldn’t remain ready and skilled.
That morning the crew was ready and excited to partake in the activity that was anything but scrubbing decks. Devin broke them into teams and made it a competition with an extra ration of rum for the winners. The men threw themselves into it wholeheartedly. Mia’s interest was piqued, he knew by the way she stood and watched them for a bit each day, but then he’d see that sadness wash over her face before she’d turn and head for the bow where she worked to put her raft together.
On the fourth day, when he sent the men into the water off the port side to strengthen their swimming skills, Mia with Grim and Mr. Hong went starboard and lowered her craft into the water. It remained moored to the ship but when Mia started over the side Devin was compelled to leave his post and make sure nothing she did was going to end badly. She was yelling up from the sturdy craft as she seemed to be setting in some pegs to hold the odd collection of supplies she’d put together. He wasn’t sure what she was saying as she always spoke to Mr. Hong in his language, but she looked to have it all squared away.
“What does she want, Mr. Hong?” Devin asked the little Chinese man who stood shaking his head at her.
“Mia say she need weight. Make anchor, and she wants her clothes make sail now.” Mr. Hong shook his head. “Hong not let her tear dress to make sail. No sail for Mia boat.”
“Well, get her some canvas,” Devin told him not understanding why Mia just didn’t ask for some.
“No sail, Mia boat,” Mr. Hong said with some disgust in his voice before he again turned to argue the matter with Mia. He turned when Grim tapped him on the shoulder. The man held out both his hands but did nothing else for a long moment. Devin was lost to his meaning more when he then lifted his hands behind his head and used two fingers to make him look to have horns.
“I think he means idle hands do the devil’s work,” Mr. Quiggly said as he approached the rail to look at what Mia was doing. Devin glanced down at Mia then back at Grim who smiled and nodded before patting him on the shoulder and walking away.
Devin couldn’t say how that warning applied to his wife’s activities other than Mr. Hong’s not wanting her to tear up a dress to use as a sail. “You’ll see she gets some canvas, Mr. Quiggly,” Devin said then headed back to where he’d been watching the men swimming between the ship and a lon
g boat.
“Are you sure, Captain?” Mr. Quiggly actually sounded rather concerned.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, being she actually finished the thing and its water sound, maybe she plans to sail away.”
Devin snorted and clasped his hands behind his back trying not to roll his eyes. “Why would she do that?”
“Well,” the man hedged, “she won’t have anything to do again. Idle hands and all.”
Devin stopped in his tracks. It was a good point. Every day, Mia requested he set her ashore pointing out several empty islands they were slowly passing. But as he turned back he could already see she was on board and pulling her raft back up. Grim helped her stow it between the long boats so it was out of the way. It wasn’t possible Mia would be able to board the craft and sail away. Not without help and not before he could stop her. But maybe finding something to keep her busy would be wise. His eyes again went out to the men who’d forsaken swimming laps and started into rough play. “Do you think, Mr. Quiggly, my wife might like to spend some time swimming?”
“Aye, she might at that,” the quartermaster agreed.
“Then I’ll make the suggestion to her and let her wear herself out with that activity,” Devin said, rather pleased with the idea. He was pleased even more when Mia responded so well to it that night. And after the initial shock of seeing what she wore to swim only as she stepped on the rail and leaped for the water the next morning, Devin found a good deal of amusement watching her cavorting in the waves. She certainly could out swim most and was able bodied enough to pull or push a few beneath the waters then get out of reach before they could retaliate. The waters suited her. She belonged in them as much as on them. What he’d do with her once they returned to England he didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine her happy for long away from the sea, though he’d try to make her so.
