Born of the Sea

by Kate Castle

  After a slap-up meal below decks of chicken and bean stew, accompanied by enough rum and mead to sink a galleon, the party spilled up onto the deck and we danced the day away. The crew sang their usual work shanties, swaying backwards and forwards, arms wrapped around each other, bottles sloshing:

  Come all ye young fellows that follows the sea,

  Way hey, blow the man down,

  Now please pay attention and listen to me,

  Oh, give us some time to blow the man down.

  Even though they were all blind drunk, the crew could still carry a tune.

  By sundown, the whole ship was sluiced except for Mary and me. I was so distracted by her whereabouts all day that I had taken in a mere fraction of my normal booze consumption. Mary had pretended to muster up as much enthusiasm as the rest of the crew in their merriment, but her eyes had met mine so often – clear, intense and gunpowder-sharp – that I knew she too had been afflicted with the same malady.

  At one point, Jack staggered over to me and threw an arm around my shoulders. He brought his mouth close to my ear, meaning to whisper but failing miserably in his drunken stupor.

  “Anne! Come to quarters for a wee while, will yer? I needs to show yer somethin’.”

  His breath was ripe with the stench of chewing tobacco and alcohol, and the gold-toothed grin I used to find quite charming now felt overpowering and repellent. I dipped my head to sneak a sideways glance at Mary. She was staring cold-bloody-murder at Jack. For some reason this made me ridiculously pleased.

  “Ahh, not tonight, Jack,” I said lightly. “There’s a party we’ll be missin’ out on.”

  Unperturbed, Jack threw his other arm around Pierre, the next man in line, so we were all part of one long conjoined set. He took a long swig from the bottle of rum dangling from the hand draped over my chest and slurred out his favourite self-penned shanty, singing at the top of his lungs:

  Oh, give me a kiss Bonny-Anne!

  Oh, send me one fast as ye can.

  All the sailors at sea, are conch-struck by thee!

  So, give me a kiss Bonny-Anne!

  He grabbed my face and kissed me roughly. Mildly annoyed, I shoved him away and the entire line of men collapsed in a heap of drunken laughter. They rolled around on the deck, embracing one another, singing another verse of my song and clinking their bottles together.

  Eventually, the ship began to quieten down. The men sat huddled in groups against the ship’s hull, chatting and chuckling quietly or snoring with their mouths wide open.

  I positioned myself directly opposite Mary, who sat with her back against the mainmast, her guitar cradled in her lap.

  “Come now, Mark,” said Pierre, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Are yer goin’ta sing us a shanty with that there thing? The party’s dyin’, man.”

  I did not think Mary would comply, but she offered a quick smile and began to play. Her graceful fingers moved up and down the neck of the guitar, plucking out a sweet, melancholy tune.

  A hush descended on the ship as those left awake turned to listen to the beautiful music under the lantern light. Then, as clear and strong as a church bell, Mary began to sing:

  I once saw an angel at sea,

  Her wings unfurled only for me,

  She swooped o’er the isles, and I watched her, beguiled,

  As she showed me the meaning of free.

  My sea angel guides me through storms,

  She leads me from cold seas to warm,

  When my angel is near, I’ve no place for fear,

  Sure as after the night comes the dawn.

  She was so beautiful I could hardly breathe.

  I felt a sudden sharp stab of fear. I had never been in love before. I felt weak, exposed, full, strong. And utterly terrified.

  ***

  One by one, the crew made their way below decks to turn in for the night. Among them were Jack and Pierre, arm in arm, laughing and whispering in their own merry world. Mary raised her eyebrows at me in surprise, and I laughed.

  “I told you I wasn’t his only paramour.”

  Finally, Mary and I were left alone on the deck.

  Our eyes met and we rose immediately, striding towards each other, our lips meeting in a bruised, heated kiss. I tried to convey all the emotion I was feeling with that kiss. By some miracle, I felt her deliver the same love letter to me.

  Hand in hand, we walked up the stairway to the quarter deck – where we knew we would be hidden from anyone returning from crew’s quarters – and settled down against the helm.

  Mary wrapped me securely in her arms, my back against her chest.

  We both let out deep sighs of satisfaction.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” I said.

  “Ask me anything.”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  “Yes.”

  I turned sharply in her arms. “What? To whom?” I demanded. A hot, heavy rock of jealousy lodged itself deep in my chest. “Tell me his name so I can find him and kill him.”

  Mary laughed quietly and pulled me closer. “His name was Marcel and he died two years ago. We served in the army together. We bunked together in the field, so he discovered my sex eventually. Marcel was a great friend to me; we had a lot of good times. After the war, we even opened an inn together. But…honestly, I never realised there was an alternative to men. Until you.”

  I felt the rock dislodge and fall away.

  “Very well then,” I said, settling back against her.

  She chuckled and kissed my temple. “Are you ready to retire, Annie?”

  “No, not yet,” I replied softly. “I’m not ready at all.”

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “No. I want to remember every moment.”

  I tilted my head to breathe into the crook of her neck and ran my fingers gently over her chest. She smelled of the sea. Of comfort, adventure. Of infinite promise.

  I kissed the underside of her chin and felt her shudder. She blew out a shaky breath.

  “You make me lose all thought, all control,” she whispered. “This could be dangerous for us.”

  “How can it be dangerous when it feels as natural as breathing?”

  She shifted on the deck to face me and took my hands in hers. I intertwined our fingers tightly.

  “You are a very rare creature, Anne Bonny. I am so lucky to have found you.”

  I hesitated before asking, “As rare as a queen conch?”

  “Oh yes. You are more rare and much more beautiful than a queen conch. And infinitely more precious than its pearl.”

  I was amazed and fascinated by this revelation.

  “You seem to behold me rather differently than other folk,” I scoffed quietly.

  “You don’t show yourself to them,” she said simply.

  “No. Only you.”

  “Only me?”

  “Yes. Only you.”

  We talked through the night; imparting our histories, making plans and sharing dreams, until sunlight bled through the line where the sky met the sea. Together, we watched the sun rise on a new day, both knowing everything had changed for us. Neither admitting how difficult it might turn out to be.

  8

  I led Mary back towards quarters, feeling light and free despite the stiffness in my body from hours of sitting on the hard deck.

  “Come to bed with me, Mary.”

  She looked at me, surprised.

  “Annie. Jack will be awake soon enough and then, sure enough, he will be up these stairs to return to you. Another night.”

  I knew she was right. With a sigh of resignation, I kissed her.

  “Very well. Goodnight, Mary.”

  “Good morning, Annie. It was a good night. Get some rest.”

  She ran her fingertips along my jaw one last time and tiptoed down the stairwell to the crew’s quarters. As quietly as I could, so as not to wake Jack and the crew below, I opened the door to captain’s quarters. The welcome sight of the empty bed made me rea
lise how exhausted I was.

  I had just begun to undress when I felt a heavy thump to the back of my head, and everything went black.

  ***

  When I awoke, I could not see nor move. My head was pounding as if it had been split in two. I quickly took stock: both my hands and feet were tied tightly. A rough gunny sack covered my head. I heard distant gulls and felt a familiar pitch and roll and knew instinctively that I was inside a moving vessel at sea, but it was not the William. I managed to wriggle myself up into a sitting position.

  “She’s awake,” a voice said.

  Two sets of footsteps approached.

  “Take the sack off.”

  Light filled my vision. My eyes took a moment to adjust.

  Before me, in a small cabin filled with barrels and wineskins, stood my estranged husband, James Bonny, and Alasdair – the smart gentleman who had boarded the William with Pierre’s party yesterday. Or was it more than one day ago? I had no idea.

  “You filthy mudsuckers!” I rasped, my throat dry and painful. I struggled fiercely against my trussed hands and feet, to no avail.

  James fetched a pitcher of water and sloshed some into my mouth. It spilled over my cheeks and dripped down my chest. I sucked in as much as I could.

  “Do be calm, Anne. You’re safe now.”

  “Be calm? Be calm! You kidnapped me, James, you cowardly pig!”

  “Nonsense. You are my wife. One cannot kidnap one’s own wife.”

  They laughed as if we were at some sort of posh high tea party and I was not tied up, half-dressed and sodden on the floor.

  “You’re mad,” I said.

  “Not in the least. You are my wife, my property. I simply employed Mr Tandy here to help recover what is mine.”

  “When you untie me, I am going to kill you.”

  “With what weapons Anne, dear? Your bare hands? You may be wearing gentlemen’s attire but unless I’m sorely mistaken you are still just a woman.”

  More laughter.

  I felt my rage building and welcomed her in like an old friend.

  “Ha! What on earth is this twattery-fakery way of talkin’ you have now? Tryin’a speak and act like a gentleman when we both know all you are is a failed halfpenny-pirate-turned-snitch who can’t even keep his own cock up, let alone keep his wife in line. Gov’nor Rogers has certainly done some work on you, James. And it ain’t for the better, let me tell you. Done you up like a stinkin’ kipper in a suit, with a stick right up yer arse. He surely has.”

  James’s face turned beetroot. I smiled. It was nice to know I still riled him up as much as I always did.

  “You will not disrespect me any longer, Anne!” he thundered. “If I cannot keep you in line, as you say, then a public flogging from the governor will. And as soon as we are docked in Nassau, that is what you shall receive. So, I suggest you gather your strength, my darling wife. You will need it.”

  A frisson of fear coiled in my belly: slow, cold and heavy, like an anchor’s chain.

  I did not let it show.

  Instead, I shut my mouth in a stubborn, firm line and refused to look at or talk to James for the remainder of our journey. I decided it was in my best interest to keep quiet and not make the situation any worse. I ate the food and drink that was offered, slept, and thought of nothing else but Mary, and my impending fate.

  9

  New Providence looked nothing like I remembered.

  There were no beaten-up, filthy pirate sloops anchored haphazardly in the bay. Only pristine merchant navy ships, smartly tethered to newly constructed jetties in Nassau Port; Saint George’s flags fluttering brightly overhead; sails gleaming white. Gone were the rickety old market stalls along the harbourside, selling stolen booty. Instead, half a dozen painted horse carts were neatly lined up, offering baked goods, milk and eggs, fruit and vegetables, woven baskets and the like. No prostitutes and pirates lurked in the tavern doorways or on street corners, only King’s Guards who marched the streets in pairs, stopping to talk with gentlemen in suits and ladies in bonnets and pretty summer dresses. The cobbled streets where I had spent many a drunken day were clean of barrels, bodies and bottles, and I could not spot one fight spilling out of the newly whitewashed taverns. I could not detect even the slightest whiff of sulphur, alcohol or tobacco in the air.

  It seemed Governor Rogers’ clean-up mission had been a success.

  “Isn’t Nassau a pretty sight now, Anne?” James said, cautiously edging closer to me on the deck.

  On our approach, he had asked Alasdair to dress me in an ivory silk robe and tie my wrists to the foremast to stop me from lashing out, as I had on many occasions over the past few days. Underneath his perfectly pressed dress shirt and tunic, I suspected James was black and blue.

  “Yes,” I replied. “I hate it.”

  He ignored me and rocked on his heels, puffing out his chest like a proud frigate bird. “I think you’ll be most taken with Governor Rogers’ mansion. He converted the old wooden fort on Fitzwilliam Hill into a beautiful residence. He had the quarried stone shipped all the way from Kentucky! It’s even bigger than your father’s was in Charles Town.”

  James pointed up to the hill behind Nassau Port where a huge stone house with four stout white columns stood. The windows were framed with white wooden louvre shutters and the exterior walls had been painted a bright conch-pink. It made me think of Mary.

  “You’ve been careless in forgetting I don’t care nothin’ for life on land, James. You have wasted your time and mine by bringing me back here. My life is at sea. Back where you found me.”

  “Nonsense. I am convinced there is a lady in you. You come from good stock, Anne. You need pulling back into line, that’s all.” He put a careful arm around my waist, and I twisted, jamming my elbow as hard as I could into his side. He yelped in pain and stepped quickly away from me.

  “I’ve told you before,” I spat. “Get your filthy, traitorous snitch-fingers off me.”

  With that, James turned on his heel and marched away to join Alasdair, who was overseeing our docking harbourside.

  “She’ll come around,” I heard him say, with what sounded like a little less conviction than before.

  ***

  In the crowded courtroom, I saw Woodes Rogers right away.

  He sat in an ornate high-backed chair at the very front, behind a huge raised wooden desk. A black dress coat strained tight against his belly – I could see his white shirt through the gaping holes between his buttons – exposing a life of luxury and excess. He wore a ridiculously large judicial wig on his head, which I reckoned must have been made from at least five horses’ tails. I decided that he most likely wore one that big to help conceal his puffy red face.

  Rogers was some twenty yards away, but I could feel his eyes on me as I approached. I wondered how many people he judged in this place every day. And how few people he spared.

  James left me to take his place in the public gallery to one side and Alasdair led me to the front of the courtroom, my hands still bound tightly. As we walked, people on both sides swivelled in their seats and craned their necks to inspect me, whispering and tutting disapprovingly to one another. I recognised some of them as old acquaintances.

  I tried to act as nonchalant as possible.

  Inside, I felt like a fish out of water, gasping for breath.

  I did not belong here. These people, this place, and everything I had left behind felt so suffocating, so unfamiliar to me now. I felt my old self clambering back up from somewhere deep within me. I suppose she was the only defence I had left to summon.

  “Gov’nor Woodes Rogers. It’s surely a pleasure to meet you,” I said, as sunny and bright as a day in May.

  Rogers appraised me with a strange mixture of intense disdain and complete indifference. It reminded me of the way my father used to look at me. Like a hawk inspecting an insect from someplace high above.

  He plucked a long, elaborate quill from an inkpot, scratched out something in a huge leather-b
ound book and began to speak. His voice was high, thin and reedy, quite the opposite to his appearance. I fought an urge to giggle.

  “Anne Elizabeth Mary Bonny. You are accused by your husband, James Bonny, of committing adultery with one Jack Rackham. You are also accused by the New Providence government of conspiring to steal the merchant navy sloop William from Nassau Port on July fourteenth, in the year of our Lord seventeen hundred and nineteen. Do you confess to these crimes?”

  I took a quiet, steadying breath, pushed out my chin and forced myself to look directly into Rogers’ cold eyes. Then I smiled sweetly.

  “If you are asking me: did I have sexual relations with the famous Captain Jack Rackham, then yes I did. But there’s somethin’ you got wrong. I did not have sexual relations with just the one fella, you see…I couldn’t really count ’em on my own fingers, if we’re really s’posed to be honest in this place, Gov’nor.”

  James began a small coughing fit on the other side of the courtroom. The crowd whispered excitedly, twittering like mockingbirds. I continued, beginning to enjoy inhabiting my old self again.

  “If you are asking me: did I steal a boat with the said Captain Jack Rackham, then yes, I did. But I did not just steal a boat. Truth be told, there’s not a lot of things I haven’t stolen these past months. Although, I s’pose you most likely feel I am a kindred spirit, Mister Rogers. Word has it you’ve taken your fair share of things that aren’t yours, too. From what I hear, anyways.”

  There was a collective gasp from the courtroom. James’s face was beginning to turn purple.

  The governor’s face was calm, impassive, impenetrable.

  “Mrs Bonny. I am sorry to say that your sources are sorely mistaken. With the company you keep, this is no surprise. I will thank you to only speak of facts and relay the truth in my courtroom.”

  “Governor,” James said, finally finding his voice from across the room, “please excuse my wife. I regret to say she has always been considered simple in polite company. She did not receive a proper education, so she lacks the intellect to understand what she is saying or doing in these situations. I must apologise on her behalf for her idiocy and insubordination. She is in my care now, and I will be sure to remedy her behaviour as soon as possible.”