“Aye, my girl, that it does.”
She went on haltingly. “I want to thank you again for, for…being such a good friend. I couldn’t have made it without you.”
The look he gave her was filled with warmth. “No, Ails, it’s the other way around. I couldn’t have made it without you! It’s been a long time since I had anyone to talk to. You have no idea how much I’ll miss you.”
Ailish thought of all they’d been through. Davy had been getting her out of trouble from the first time she set foot on the deck plates of his ship and soon, they would be separated forever. It was strange how in such a short time, she’d become so close to this bash boy that the thought of leaving him behind was impossible.
She didn’t want to say goodbye. “Davy, why don’t you come with me when we reach Valentia? Once my da sells the wonderful horse, there will be more than enough money to give all of us a new start.” It was insane, yet in her heart, this is what she truly wanted and she was desperate now. “You could come to Newfoundland with us. They have lots of boats there. Why, a lad who knows the workings of ships as much as you do would be able to find employment in no time...”
But Davy was slowly shaking his head. The sadness on his face tore at her and she knew what he was going to say.
“That’s a fine dream, lass, but no. Even if there was a way for me to go with you, my place is here on my ship.” He smiled at her, but the smile never reached his remarkable eyes. “Besides, who’d look after that big galoot Charlie? He’d be lost without me. We’re as much a part of the Great Eastern as the iron plates and rivets holding her together.”
His voice was as soft as a sea breeze and Ailish felt an odd prickling sensation, like when your foot goes to sleep. Then waves of warmth started inside her and spread outward to her fingers and toes, the heat building from a spark to a flame. Trembling, she forced herself back under control and quenched the invisible fire.
Davy stood up. “There’s Charlie calling. I’d best be getting back to work.” Smiling, he gave her a roguish wink. “I can promise you this: you’ll always be my favourite cabin boy.” He turned to leave, then stopped and faced her. “There’s an old sentiment that says as long as you keep a loved one in your heart, they are with you always. You’ll always be with me, Ailish O’Connor.”
He walked away and as she watched, a trick of the light made it seem as though he was growing transparent, fading, until he disappeared into the darkness.
Epilogue
September 8, 1866
.-- …. .- - .-- .- … -.. .- …- -.--
It had been a year since the disastrous cable-laying attempt, but as Ailish stood once more at the bow of the Great Eastern, it seemed like a lifetime ago. They were anchored at Heart’s Content, Newfoundland, and this time, the transatlantic cable had been successfully laid with not one mishap. The most important undertaking in the world was finally a success story, one for the history books.
Far below, Ailish could see Cyrus Field, up to his knees in the chilly bay water, as he supervised hauling the shore cable. This heavier end would be spliced to the much thinner cable they had laid and the flurry of telegraph signals would begin. She admired the friendly American. His vision led him to invest more money in this year’s success and she hoped he made a million pounds and was famous forever.
As she watched, he turned and saluted, his wide grin flashing up at her. She nodded back; then hugged her father, as he kissed the top of her head. Her hair was longer again, but she didn’t wear it in braids or flying wildly loose as a young girl would. She swept it up now, and it made her feel very ladylike. Her stylish Dublin clothes added to her new mystique, and her da looked a proper gentleman, too, with his tall beaver hat and long frock coat.
When she’d returned to Ireland last year, her da, healthy once more, had been overjoyed to see her. He’d thought it miraculous that she came back not only with the wonderful golden horse, but with two sheep in tow. Now, when they sat together in the evenings, he never failed to ask for another story about her time aboard the Great Eastern. His taste for whiskey was gone. Instead, they drank pots of the strongest tea in the world and Ailish loved it.
“This crossing was nothing like last year’s,” she said to Captain Anderson, who stood next to Ailish and her da.
He nodded as the corners of his mouth twitched. “Agreed. I didn’t have an impudent stowaway to knock me down.”
She giggled. “I turned out to be a very helpful stowaway. I took great care of Dimples and Rainbow and they will certainly love their new home.”
Michael O’Connor smiled. “Thanks to that wondrous little horse, we were able to buy that fine fishing boat for me and an even grander house on the harbour for Ails. I think my daughter will make a wonderful chatelaine and we’d be proud if you’d stay with us when you’re in port, Captain Anderson.”
“That would be very generous, sir. It would be a true kindness if I had a bed that didn’t move with the tide.” He stroked his precisely trimmed beard. “I had a piece of news you may be interested in. Rufus Dalton is enjoying a lengthy stay in Newgate Prison for a series of crimes reported, they say, by ex-members of his gang. I’m happy your treasure wasn’t added to the list of stolen and lost property.”
“And Paddy Whelan, have you any word of him?” Ailish asked.
“No, lass, but I’m sure that clever young man is doing fine.”
Her father looked at his new watch. “It’s time to go ashore, me darlin’. We’d best get our belongings.”
Ailish didn’t want to leave the ship, not yet. At the beginning of the crossing, she’d asked after Davy Jones, even gone looking for him – but she’d been unable to find him, and no one had seen or heard of the riveter and his bash boy. She hadn’t wanted to bother the captain with it during the cable laying, but now was her last chance to find out.
“Captain Anderson, would you answer one more question?”
He nodded kindly. “Why, certainly, my dear.”
“Last year, I was friends with the bash boy in the hold, but this trip, he wasn’t on board. Do you know what happened to him?”
Captain Anderson looked puzzled. “I remember you mentioning something about this fellow before. You must be mistaken. There was no bash boy aboard, then or now.”
She shook her head adamantly. “Mistaken? No, sir. Davy worked with a riveter on the iron plates belowdecks. Why, I talked with him there many times.”
“Miss O’Connor,” the captain began indulgently, “I am quite certain there was no bash boy in the hold. There hasn’t been since the last plates were affixed, in 1857.”
A frown creased his brow and he seemed to be recalling some forgotten fragment of information. “There is, however, a legend that has attached itself to the Great Eastern. It tells of a riveter and his bash boy who fell while working between the double hulls when building the ship. The calamitous noise of two hundred riveters hammering away drowned out their cries, and they were walled up alive. It is said you can hear a ghostly hammering belowdecks as they continue to pound in their phantom rivets.”
Ailish felt dizzy. A long-ago memory surfaced, of Ma telling her it was possible for fey souls like them to speak to someone who had passed over, gone to the other side. She’d said it started with a numb sort of tingling that turned into a white-hot heat, like a fever were burning inside.
The last time she and Davy had spoken, she had felt that heat.
A thousand clues she’d missed at the time flooded her head. His detailed stories about the building of the Great Eastern, clear as if he’d been there; his magic trick with the gaslights, and the way he’d appeared in the dark passage just when she’d needed him. And her name, she couldn’t remember ever telling him, yet he knew it. His old-fashioned clothes – had she ever seen him in anything but those same faded breeches? And all the mysterious notes – on every one, the ink had blurred and faded away.
She remembered the day she’d wanted to touch him, and he’d become so angry, spouting t
hat nonsense about Ailish thinking he wasn’t good enough for her. He hadn’t wanted her to touch him because he knew she couldn’t touch him!
And in all the time she’d been with Davy, she had never seen him any place but belowdecks. The reason was now so obvious. And his answer to her – “We’re as much a part of the Great Eastern as the iron plates and rivets holding her together.” It had been the literal truth.
Their last meeting tumbled into her mind. Her invitation for him to leave the ship and join her and Da – it had seemed crazy even at the time, so perhaps she had known, deep in her bones.
Davy Jones was a, a …
She couldn’t say it.
“That is truly a tragic tale, Captain Anderson.” She smiled tremulously. “If anyone asks, the riveter was named Charlie and the bash boy who died was a remarkable young man by the name of David Jones.”
– - • – –
Later, standing beside her da on the deck of the launch, Ailish looked back at the mighty vessel. It took a long time to get distance enough to see it entirely. The Great Eastern was a ship like no other and a true leviathan of the seas.
At last, shading her eyes against the morning sun’s glare, Ailish was able to take it all in. Then she saw, high up on the catwalk, a solitary figure silhouetted against the brilliant blue sky.
The figure waved.
What had Davy said? “I don’t go on deck unless it’s for someone incredible and extraordinary.”
Smiling at the compliment, she waved back as hard as she could, then watched as he faded into thin air.
Ailish slipped a hand into her pocket and curled her fingers protectively around the rusted old rivet nestled at the bottom. Tears sparkled on her lashes as she remembered his words. As long as you keep a loved one in your heart, they are with you always.
“You will be with me always, Davy Jones,” she whispered. “You and your ghost messages.”
Author’s Note
While speaking to students on the brilliant devices we use to chat to friends today I realized they had no idea how it all began. The marvels of communication we enjoy in the 21st century make it difficult to fathom that it wasn’t always as it is now. Text messaging, e-mails, satellites and high speed Internet are built upon much humbler beginnings and Canada, especially Newfoundland, played an important role. I decided to investigate and Ghost Messages is the result of that snooping into the dusty past.
Ghost Messages tells of the 1865 attempt to lay the first trans-Atlantic cable which would connect the two halves of the world with instant communication. The communication wasn’t digital; it wasn’t fibre optics or telephone; in fact, it wasn’t even a human voice. It was Morse code transmitted for 2300 nautical miles in dots and dashes along a one-inch thread composed of seven strands of fragile copper wire! (I am pleased to say I have a piece of that original wire cable, dredged up from the bottom of the ocean, and enjoy showing students when I give presentations in schools.)
At the time, a transatlantic cable was thought to be an impossibility – science fiction – but this was an age of miracles when some of the greatest men of vision and science worked together to create miracles of their own. Their names are synonymous with world-changing advances: Cyrus Field, Samuel Canning, Isambard Brunel, Daniel Gooch, William Thomson (later known as Lord Kelvin), Samuel Morse and Michael Faraday. All of these gentlemen, and many more, contributed to this project.
The Great Eastern was a remarkable ship – it was five times larger than any vessel built, was seven hundred feet long and utilized three methods of propulsion – sail, propeller and paddlewheel. The innovative double hull made it unsinkable and nearly indestructible, requiring the invention of the wrecking ball to take it apart.
On that first cable-laying attempt in 1865, one of the greatest captains to sail the blue sea was at the helm, Captain James Anderson. He really did manage not once, but numerous times, to find the one-inch cable when it was lost miles below on the ocean floor. Suspected sabotage by the Fenians is also recorded in the history books, and it was eventually discovered that the cable itself had done the damage when brittle shards of the outer casing imbedded themselves into the wire, shorting the signal.
The legend of the ghost aboard the Great Eastern is well documented in the ship’s lore; and when the ship was finally dismantled, the skeletons of both the riveter and his bash boy were found between the hulls, where they had fallen to their deaths when the ship was being built. I have taken a little literary licence by naming these forgotten souls as their true identities have disappeared into the mists.
As a writer, I could not have dreamed up a more exciting plot. History itself has provided the people, setting and dramatic events complete with a ship of legend, ghosts, broken cables, storms, and sabotage. It is my hope that this book will instill in you a sense of wonder and respect for those intrepid scientists and explorers on whose inventions and discoveries our modern communications world is built. The next time you e-mail, text message or Twitter a friend, remember it all began long ago with a fragile thread thousands of miles long and those whispered “ghost messages.”
Glossary of Nautical Terms
Ahoy!: A very old and traditional greeting for hailing other vessels; originally a Viking battle cry.
Chewing the Fat: Having a long chat. “God made the vittles but the devil made the cook” was a popular saying used by seafaring men in the 19th century, when salted beef was the staple diet aboard ship. This tough cured beef, suitable only for long voyages when nothing else would keep (remember, there was no refrigeration) required prolonged chewing to make it edible. Men often chewed one chunk for hours, just as if it were chewing gum, and referred to this practice as “chewing the fat.”
Devil to Pay or Paying the Devil: The expected unpleasant result of some action that has been taken. Sailors adopted the colourful idea of having to pay the devil for whatever fun you had and applied it to the most unpleasant tasks aboard a wooden ship. Caulking (sealing) seams and gaps in the ship was one of them: and it must certainly have been hellish to be suspended high above sea on the outside of a ship, or up to your knees in stinking bilgewater deep in the hold, using shredded rope and sticky black pitch to keep the saltwater out.
Fathom: A span of six feet. Fathom was originally a land-measuring term, derived from the Ango-Saxon word “faetm” meaning to embrace. In those days, most measurements were based on average size of parts of the body, such as the hand (horses are still measured this way) or the foot (that’s why 12 inches are so named). A fathom was the average distance from fingertip to fingertip of the outstretched arms of a man; or, as it was defined by an act of Parliament, “the length of a man’s arms around the object of his affections.”
Galley: The kitchen of a ship. It is most likely a corruption of “gallery.” Ancient sailors cooked their meals on a brick or stone gallery laid amidships.
Head: The bathroom aboard a naval ship. The term comes from the days of sailing ships when the place for the crew to relieve themselves was all the way forward on either side of the bowsprit, the part of the hull to which the figurehead was fastened.
Holystone: A piece of sandstone used for scrubbing teak and other wooden decks. It was so nicknamed by an anonymous witty sailor because, as its use always brought a man to his knees, it must be holy!
Keelhauling: A naval punishment. A rope was passed under the bottom of the ship, and the punishee was attached to it, sometimes with weights attached to his legs. He was dropped suddenly into the sea on one side, hauled underneath the ship, and hoisted up on the other. When he had caught his breath, the punishment was repeated.
Pea Coat: A heavy topcoat worn in cold, miserable weather by seafaring men. Sailors who have to endure pea-soup weather often don their pea coats but the coat’s name isn’t derived from the weather. It was once tailored from pilot, or “P” cloth – a heavy, coarse, stout kind of twilled blue cloth. The garments made from it were called p-jackets or p-coats, later changed to pea jackets or pe
acoats.
Powder Monkey: Boys or young teens who carried bags of gunpowder from the powder magazine in the ship’s hold to the gun crews aboard warships.
Scrimshaw: Carved or incised intricate designs on whalebone or whale ivory.
Scuttlebutt: Nautical parlance for gossip and rumour. In the navy, a water fountain is still called a “scuttlebutt,” from the days when crews got their drinking water from a “scuttled butt” – a wooden cask (butt) that had a hole punched in for the water to flow through. (Sinking a ship by punching in its hull is called scuttling.) As they waited for their turn for a drink, crew members chatted and exchanged news, just like people still do at an office water cooler or school drinking fountain.
Sextant: A navigational instrument for determining latitude and longitude by measuring the angles of heavenly bodies in relation to the horizon.
S.O.S.: Contrary to popular notions, the letters S.O.S. do not stand for “Save Our Ship” or “Save Our Souls.” They were selected to indicate distress because, in Morse code, these letters and their combination create an unmistakable sound pattern.
Starboard: The right side of a ship. The Vikings called the side of a ship its board, and they placed the steering oar or “star” on the right side. Because the oar was on the right side, the ship was tied to the dock at the left side. This was known as the loading side, or “larboard.” Later, it was decided that “larboard” and “starboard” were too similar, especially when trying to be heard over the roar of a heavy sea, so larboard became the “side at which you tie up in port” or the “port” side.
Ghost Messages Page 13
