“Just you and your wife?”
“No. My friend James and his wife Etta Woodrow who owned the sailboat are here as well.”
“How long ago were you picked up?”
Chad rubbed his chin in thought and said, “Ummm, that was 1865.”
Bill’s eyes opened wide as he said in almost a hiss, “What? You were rescued in 1865? But, that was twenty-four years ago!”
Chad nodded in agreement, “Yes, yes, twenty-four years ago.” He shook his head and smiled as he went on, “Well, they do say that time flies.”
Bill couldn’t believe his ears. He must be mentally unbalanced, poor man. He sensed another person on deck and turned to see a short, dark haired woman wearing a long dress with a high pinched waist, long white gloves and carrying an open parasol.
“Well,” said Chad as the woman went to his side and gave him a peck on the cheek. “My dear wife, Gloria, this is Mister Bill Scott. He and his lady friend, Elizabeth have just joined our cruise this very day.”
She offered her hand and Bill shook hands with her as he thought, Her gloves are damp!
“Are the Woodrows’ about?” she asked her husband.
“Any moment now, my dear wife.”
Bill had to ask, “Chad was just telling me how you and your friends were rescued in 1865 and I wondered if perhaps he has his dates wrong.”
“Mmmm, yes, August 15, 1865 is correct. I know that because it was our tenth wedding anniversary and our friends, the Woodrows, wanted to take us out on their new sailing boat.” She turned and looked at her husband and went on, “That was a memorable outing, don’t you agree, dear husband?”
“Ha! Yes indeed it was. We were lucky that Captain van der Decken came along.”
Bill shook his head and asked, “Wait! How can that be? Are you saying that for over twenty years you four have been traveling with van der Decken? You stay aboard every time he docks? I’m sorry, but his sounds preposterous!”
“But why?” asked Chad, “why get off if everything you want is right here?”
“Chad,” asked his wife as she creased her brow in thought, “do you remember us ever docking?”
“Mmm,” he answered as he furrowed his own brow in thought, “Come to think about it, my love, no! I can’t recall us ever docking.” He patted her shoulder and went on, “Once again, quite funny, is that not so?”
“Oh, look, Chad,” cut in Gloria as she pointed at another couple coming up from below deck. “It’s the Woodrows.”
A couple stepped on deck both dressed in white. She wore a wide brimmed hat with a red feather in the hat-band, a long dress with a red sash around her waist, a pair of deck shoes and carried an unopened parasol while he was dressed in an open neck shirt, a pair of slacks, and canvas deck shoes.
“Good day, all,” said the man. “Looks to be a stunner!”
“You really should open your parasol, Etta,” said Gloria.
“James and Etta Woodrow, this is Bill Scott and his lady friend is in their cabin,” said Chad introducing the couple.
Bill shook their hands and thought; I’m just going to go with the flow for now. I need some clothes for Elizabeth and myself. “I wonder if there are any clothes that Elizabeth and I may borrow until ours dry out?”
The four looked at each other before James said as he looked down at his clothing, “Clothes?” He looked up and shrugged his shoulders, “Never thought about them. These do me just fine.”
Chad nodded, as did the two women leaving Bill to wonder, Can it be? Can they be wearing the same clothes all the time? This is utter madness. I must find the captain.
Chad looked at Bill and said as he offered his arm to his wife, “Care to walk the deck with us, old man?”
Now Bill nodded and joined them in their walk around the deck. They saw neither seamen nor the captain. The sails were still full although there was no breeze and although the fog was still as thick as pea soup both women had their parasols open.
“Will you point out the captain’s cabin?” he asked.
“Twenty-four more steps and we shall be in front of it,” answered a smiling James and exactly twenty-four steps later, Bill could just about make out a cabin door with a dim light showing in its small round window. He stepped to it and knocked on the door.
Damp as usual, he thought as he knocked again. He heard a noise like a chair scraping on the floor and the door opened slowly to show the captain standing there looking down at him. Although he had been in his cabin, the captain was dressed in his long coat and hat. On his large wooden desk, Bill spotted a map that was weighted down at all four corners, a sexton and a pair of dividers were next to a large ruler. Now up close, Bill saw that the captain had gray eyes, which seemed to fit in perfectly with the environment and his clothes were tattered and sewn many times over.
“Good day, Captain van der Decken. I wish to thank you for rescuing us and wondered if perhaps you or your crew could lend us some dry clothing and perhaps some food and drink?”
The man just stared at him then said in his thick Dutch accent, “Go back to your cabin.”
“First, can you tell me when we will be in port, and what port would that be?”
“My quest is to dock in the Port of New York.”
Suddenly Bill’s hopes rose! “That’s great! When?”
His answer was a shrug of his shoulders. “One day, maybe two or perhaps ten. Whenever they let me do it.”
Bill thought, One thing at a time, Billy-Boy. “Okay, I’ll go back to my cabin. I hope you can dig up some clothes for us.”
The big man closed the door and the conversation.
Bill went back to the cabin and found Elizabeth sitting on the bottom bunk still with the blanket around her.
“No clothes?”
“I asked the captain and I think he’s going to provide us with some. I asked for food as well, so we’ll see.”
She shook out her long brown hair and quipped, “Why do I feel that we were better off in the water?”
“You could be right. Let me tell you about the two couples I met on deck.”
Her eyes grew wider as he went on with what happened on deck.
“B-But,” she stuttered, “over twenty years! Something is wrong here.”
There was a slight noise outside of the cabin door and Bill opened it to find a small pile of clothes, which he took inside.
“Damp!” he said as he went through a few sets of men’s clothing. He picked out a pair of dark blue pants and a long green shirt. Elizabeth got a pair of black pants a tan shirt and each had a pair of too-small deck shoes. A knock on the cabin door and Bill found a small wooden tray with three biscuits and a wooden cup of water on it. He placed them on a table that was attached to the wall and they both took a bite of a biscuit. It tasted like it was waterlogged.
“It could use some salt,” she said with a laugh.
Bill grinned and was happy to see that she was taking it in stride. “I’ll wait outside of the door while you change and then I’ll change and we’ll go up on deck. But, first, we have to finish the food and water they gave us as we must keep our strength up.”
“When do we dock?” she asked as she took a small sip of water.
“Like I said, he never really answered that question and I decided to get the clothes and food before pressing him.”
He stepped outside of the cabin as she changed and then she waited outside as he changed and they both went up on deck.
The fog was as thick as ever and the sails full of noiseless wind. They walked the deck and came upon the four others as they stood at the rear of the sailing ship watching its long white wake. After introductions, Bill asked, “What time is lunch or,” he said as he looked up at the gray fog, “dinner? It’s so hard to tell if it’s morning, noon or evening.”
“My dear chap,” answered Chad with a smile, “it is clearly approaching noon and lunch is served at twelve sharp.”
Elizabeth looked around and asked, “How can you tell what
time of the day it is with all of this fog?”
The four looked around and James answered, “There are times, my dear lady, that the fog is truly thick, unlike today when it is extremely transparent.”
“Perhaps,” added Etta, “it becomes easier as time goes by? When we were first rescued it was so thick that you dare not walk around for fear of bumping into something. But that seemed to change over the years.”
“That’s another thing,” said Bill, “This ship must have docked for supplies many times over the twenty plus years that you’ve been aboard. How come you didn’t get off and go home?”
The four looked at each other and Chad said, “I don’t really remember us docking at all. Do you, James?”
James stuffed his hands into his pocket and said as he had a look of someone trying to remember something, “Come to think of it, no I don’t. But, why dwell upon it? We have all we need and enjoy our romps around the deck. Do we not?”
The other three agreed and stopped in front of a door and pulled it open. “After you my love,” Chad said as his wife walked into the room with a smile followed by the Woodrows’, Bill, Elizabeth and lastly, Chad.
The room was no more than ten feet wide by fifteen feet long and had two six-foot long wooden tables that hung by thick ropes from the ceiling. There were six settings of dented, tin plates and cups along with a spoon and a knife on the first table. The second table had a setting for twelve. Under the tables were long benches that Chad and James pulled out for them all to sit on. Bill knew that the reason the tables hung by the ropes were in case the ship was in rough seas. Then they would just swing back and forth. He counted three candles and two oil lamps attached to fixtures on the cabin’s walls. The dripping of candle wax told all who knew of such things that hundreds, if not thousands, of candles had been lit there over many years.
Their group sat and started to chat when the door opened and a dozen crewmembers entered. They shuffled past their table with hardly a glance exchanged between the two groups. Bill now saw that their clothes were all tattered and had been repaired many times. They all had long, unkempt, gray hair and mustaches, but it was their eyes that gave Bill the chills: they were lifeless and all just stared ahead. They never talked amongst themselves and sat with their thin hands on their laps.
A door from the other end of the room opened and a short, round sailor came in and put an iron pot on the sailor’s table. He then left and came back with another pot, which he placed on the passenger’s table. He came back again and put another pot on both tables and left. Chad took his wife’s tin plate and, using a long, deep spoon that was in the pot, put a dollop of food on her dish. He then did his own and passed the pot to James, who did the same before passing the pot to Bill. Bill tried to be calm as he looked into the pot and saw a semi-thick, gray liquid with potatoes and what he took as meat. Following the other two men, he put a dollop on Elizabeth’s plate and followed with one on his plate. Seeing that Chad was eating already he turned to Elizabeth, who looked back and said in a low, frightened voice, “W-What should we do, Bill? I’m starving, but this looks awful!”
“Let me give it a try.” He scooped a small amount on his spoon and took a sip. He turned and said, “Hey, it’s not bad! I suggest you try it. We need to keep our strength up.”
Elizabeth tried a small amount and nodded in agreement and said, “It is pretty good.” She looked at Etta and said, “Etta, this is good. I always try to collect a new recipe whenever I come across a dish that is unique. Do you know what it is?”
Etta smiled warmly and answered, “I’m not sure, but I’m glad you like it because we’ll be having the same dish again at supper time.” She smiled and went back to eating her lunch.
Elizabeth gave a warning glance to Bill and went on, “Oh, that’s fine with me. How often do they serve this dish?”
Etta looked back and with an excited look answered, “Oh, always.”
Bill joined in, “You mean that for all of the time that you and your group have been aboard the three meals of the day are the same?”
Chad and James laughed and Chad offered, “Tut tut, old fellow. Why seek a change if what you are offered is good enough?”
Bill leaned across the wooden table and said through clenched teeth, “What is with you people? You’re on board this ship for years and don’t seem to care if you ever get off. Then you tell us that the same meal is served over and over again. Doesn’t it strike you as weird?”
Chad picked up a grayish slightly tattered cloth napkin, patted his lips and said, “My dear fellow. I do seem to remember a time when these thoughts bothered me too. However, I overcame them over time.”
“As I’m sure you will too,” added James with a smile.
“Never!” Answered Bill.
The four ‘regulars’ looked at each other and smiled knowingly.
Bill heard the sound of tin hitting tin and turned to see that Elizabeth had finished her meal. He decided to do the same before heading back to the captain’s cabin.
When the meal was finished the six of them left the room and went back up on deck.
Bill looked up and said, “When will this fog lift?”
Once again it was Chad who answered, “Lift? Never!”
“You mean you never see the sun?”
“Well perhaps we don’t see the sun, but the ladies feel the need every now and then to raise their parasols, so there seems to be brighter days at times.”
Bill stared at him pitifully, shook his head and said, “Chad, do you all have families in England?”
“Yes, old man, we all do. And at times we think of them, but we are here and they are there so we make the best of it. You know, the stiff upper lip and all.”
Once again James added, “You’ll see, Bill. It just takes time.”
“Well,” said Gloria, “I believe I’ll take a nap after that meal.” She looked at her husband and asked, “Shall we, dear husband?”
“Yes, my love, I could use a lie down myself.” He looked at the rest of the group and went on, “Shall we meet here for our evening deck, walk-around before dinner?”
“Yes,” said James looking at his pocket watch, “Etta and I are also going to our cabin for a rest, I suggest we meet here at six o’clock.”
All agreed and walked off into the fog with Bill and Elizabeth following. When they reached the corridor the two couples walked down three cabins away from theirs. Bill opened the door and they went into their cabin. There was a definite chill in the air as well as a moldy smell. They sat on the bottom bunk and Bill said as he held his head in his hands, “Elizabeth, I’m afraid we’re in deep trouble.”
“How so?”
“I’m not sure but the name of this ship is Vliegende Nederlander. Can you translate that into English?”
“No, but what does the name of the ship matter?”
“It matters an awful lot if I’m right.” He looked at her puzzled face and went on, “Listen, those people have been aboard for over twenty years and they say that the ship has never docked. Well if it didn’t dock, how do they get supplies? Why don’t Chad, James and their wives miss their family? Wouldn’t it drive you nuts to eat the same thing three times a day, or see nothing but fog? Their only pastime is walking the deck.” He shook his head, “No, something needs to be done.” He stood and said, “I’m going to see the captain.”
“Take me with you,” she said emphatically. “I should like to see this captain for myself. I also have a few questions I should like to put to him.”
Bill nodded and they stepped out into the corridor and went up the few stairs to the foggy deck. Bill offered his hand and said, “I suggest we hold hands in this fog lest one of us fall over something.”
She nodded as she took his hand.
It’s damp, thought Bill, and I bet mine is too.”
Once again the glow of the soft light told Bill they were in front of his cabin. After two raps on the door it opened and the captain stood as before in full dress
with hat, coat and sash on along with his cutlass. On his desk was the map and charting devices still in the same position as before.
“Ahhh,” the captain said. “I expected you, but not so soon. Come in.”
A perplexed Bill and Elizabeth entered the dimly lit cabin and swirls of fog clinging to the wooden floor gave way as they walked through it. The tall man pointed to two chairs and they sat opposite his desk. “You have questions for me, do you not?”
“Yes!” answered Bill, “is the name of your ship the Vliegende Nederlander?”
“It is.”
“And translated in English that means, The Flying Dutchman?”
“You are well informed, Mister Scott.”
“I was hoping that it wasn’t the Flying Dutchman.”
“I’ve heard something of that ship,” added Elizabeth.
The captain said, “Some say it is a ghost ship.”
“Is it?” asked Bill.
“Can you describe what makes a ghost, Mr. Scott?”
Elizabeth held Bill’s hand tightly as he answered, “Someone who can’t seem to pass over to the other side.”
“The other side? What about simply sailing around the Cape of Good Hope? As I sailed by the Cape a tremendous storm struck and although my men begged me to go back, I swore that I would sail around the Cape even if it took me until Judgment Day! Now, every time I get close to rounding the Cape of Good Hope, another storm hits us and we find ourselves in another place and as much as we try to dock we again find ourselves in another part of the world.”
Elizabeth shook her head, “I-I don’t believe a word of this.”
Bill looked him in the eye and asked, “Can we leave the ship?”
The captain shrugged, “You may, but you won’t.”
“Why won’t we?”
“For the very same reason that the others have stayed: they have no wants aboard my ship and soon you two will realize that you have no wants after all.”
Bill shook his head, “No, there must be more to it than having no wants. Tell me, where does the food come from? What port do you dock at to get resupplied?”
Book 11 Page 8
