“I’ve never known you to do a fool thing. I don’t expect you’re starting now.”
“Well, Caleb, I’ve been worried about this trip. They’re not exactly a hardened crew.”
“They’ll make out fine,” Barkley said. “It looks like it’ll be an easy passage if the weather holds out like this. Smooth sailing all the way.”
Continuing their conversation, the two men turned and walked away. As they disappeared down the hatchway, Travis stepped up onto deck, where he was stopped by a massive individual who had planted himself in his way. “What’s your business?” the burly man grumbled. “No trespassing on the ship.”
Travis studied the man. He had black hair and a pair of intent hazel eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken, and his face bore other marks of past battles. Travis estimated he was in his late twenties and easily weighed more than two hundred pounds. “I’m Travis Winslow. I’m one of the passengers.”
“I’m Cerny Novak. I guess you’re all right, then.”
Two other members of the crew had paused in their deck chores to study the newcomer. “You’re one of them preachers, ain’t ya?”
“I’m afraid so, but—”
Charlie Day sent a loud laugh through his bad teeth. “Imagine that, Novak. Now we’re haulin’ preachers for cargo.”
The other crew member looked and sounded like a Scandinavian. “I’m Lars Olsen,” he said. “You don’t look like a preacher.”
“I don’t expect I do,” Travis replied.
“I ain’t got no time for preachers,” Novak warned. “They just clutter up the earth as far as I’m concerned.”
Travis noted the aggressive glare in the big man’s eyes. “Well, I don’t guess I’m enough of a preacher to make much difference. You might say I’m the black sheep of the whole bunch.”
Novak winked at his friends, then stuck out his hand. “Well, welcome aboard, Winslow.”
Travis put out his hand, and it was crushed in Novak’s grip. He tried not to look too surprised, but he did not miss the amusement of all three of the sailors. He suddenly squeezed his own hand, meeting Novak’s grip, and now it was Novak who looked surprised. Travis allowed no sign of strain to show on his face but simply stood there matching the man grip for grip. Novak tilted his head back, and his lips grew thin as he put forth all of his force. He did not prevail over Travis Winslow, however. Travis maintained his grip, giving as good as he got.
Finally Novak released the pressure and pulled his hand back. He stared at his hand for a moment as if it were a traitor, then grinned reluctantly. “Perty good grip you got there. Any other preachers like you in this bunch?”
“Nope, I’m the bottom of the barrel, and I’ll tell you right now, I don’t know a thing about sailing ships. But if I can help you fellows, I’ll be glad to do it.”
Novak was amused, yet chagrined. He had rarely been bested in tests of strength, and now he shrugged. “Well, you can help with the loading. See them bags down there? They all gotta come on board.”
“Sure,” Travis said, nodding and stepping onto the gangplank. The other three followed him, and when they got down to the supplies stacked on the wharf, Travis picked up a hundred-pound bag and put it on his shoulder easily.
The crew introduced him to another sailor who was already helping to load the cargo. “I’m Shep Riggs. I heard you say you don’t know much about sailing ships, Mr. Winslow.”
“That’s right,” Travis replied as he headed back up the gangplank. “I’ve been on several tramp steamers, but this one is different. It’s really beautiful.”
While Winslow easily navigated the plank back onto the deck, Olsen turned to Novak. “Y’know, he ain’t a bad guy—for a preacher.”
“If he weren’t a preacher, he might be a good guy,” Novak muttered, hefting a load onto his shoulder. “But if he tries to preach at me, I’ll throw him over the side.”
Charlie Day laughed and struggled to get a bag over his shoulder. When it was nestled there, he said, “Before we get halfway to Hawaii, we may throw ’em all overboard!”
****
Rena got out of the car on the dock and approached the ship, but halted when she saw Travis Winslow picking up a bag and lifting it to his shoulder. She rushed up the gangway and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Why, I’m helping load the ship.”
Rena shook her head. “You musn’t do that. You have to keep your dignity with outsiders.”
“You think loading a ship isn’t dignified?”
“I’m not going to argue with you. From now on I want you to keep your distance from the crew.” She moved past him and walked on up the gangplank. Travis turned and saw that Charlie Day and Novak were watching him. A crooked grin twisted Winslow’s lips. “You fellows keep your distance, now. You heard what the boss said.”
Novak laughed aloud. “She’s a perty thing but a bit snooty.”
“Wait till she gets seasick. That’ll take some of the starch out of her,” Day said, grinning. “Come on. Let’s finish gettin’ this stuff loaded. I’m wore out.”
****
The sun had dropped from its place in the sky into the sea with a silent splash of light. Travis stood in the bow of the Mary Anne listening to the sibilant lapping of the waves on the shore and savoring the aroma of the sea itself. The plan was to get all the supplies loaded and all the passengers aboard so they could sail first thing in the morning after breakfast. Hearing footsteps on the gangplank, he turned to see Meredith Wynne approaching. “Good evening, Miss Wynne.”
Meredith stopped abruptly and peered through the gathering darkness. “Oh, it’s you, Travis.” She came forward to give him her hand. The wind ruffled the edges of her dark hair, and a smile made a small break along her lips. “I’m late,” she said, and some private thought amused her, for Travis saw the effect of it dancing in her eyes. “I’m not very punctual, I’m afraid. What have you been doing all afternoon?”
“Helping the crew load the ship.”
He saw that his statement surprised her, but she only smiled and said, “I probably should have been here helping to do the same thing.”
“What have you been doing?”
“I was at the library studying.”
“Studying what?”
“I’m a linguist. I study languages.”
“What kind of language do they speak where we’ll be going?”
“Something like Malay. A little different from anything I’ve ever handled, but it seems fairly simple.”
“I’d like to start learning it as soon as I can.”
“Do you know any other language besides English, Mr. Winslow?”
“Spanish pretty well. And a smattering of Maya.”
“You know the Mayan language? That’s unusual.”
“I spent some time down in Central America working with the Maya Indians.”
“It sounds like you won’t have any trouble learning a new language, then. I can start teaching you as soon as we cast off.”
“That sounds good, Miss Wynne. I need a head start over the others. I might be a little slow. I don’t have a college degree like everyone else here. They’ll probably pick it up quickly when we get to the islands.”
“Languages are funny. Some people pick them up very easily. I always did. And some people, no matter how smart they are, can’t seem to master them.”
“Meredith, come on, and you too, Travis. We’re waiting for you.”
The pair turned to see an impatient Rena, who had come topside. “Where have you been, Meredith?”
“I forgot myself at the library. Sorry.”
“Well, come on down. We need to talk about some things.”
Travis followed the two women down the steep flight of stairs and entered the largest room on the Mary Anne, the main cabin. It ran the full width of the ship, and portals on both sides admitted light, at least when there was light. Now, however, the electric lights glowed, casting their pale beams over the faces of those
who had gathered. Travis moved back against the wall and took his place alongside Pete Alford, who nodded to him, saying, “I should have helped with that loading, I guess.”
“There was no need. I just wanted to be doing something.”
Captain Barkley got everyone’s attention. “Some of you might want to look at this navigational chart.” He touched a large map he had pinned to the bulkhead. “In a sailing vessel like the Mary Anne, we can’t chart our course quite as easily as a steamship can. We go as the wind dictates, so we may take a somewhat circuitous route, but at least you can see where we are now and where we plan to get to.”
Travis leaned forward with interest as Captain Barkley put his finger on the spot where the Mary Anne was anchored. “We’re right here, and we’re going all the way across the Pacific to these islands here. But first we’ll stop in the Hawaiian Islands at Hilo—here—to take on fresh water and supplies.”
Travis listened intently as the captain explained the routine, and when he asked for questions, Professor Dekker spoke up first. “Is there any danger of storms?”
“Always danger of storms at sea, Professor,” Barkley replied with a smile on his lips. “It’s the nature of the beast. Right now everything looks fine. We’ll at least get to Hawaii without any problem.”
“How long will the trip take?” Abigail Townsend asked. She was standing beside her husband, Jimmy, and the two looked very young to Travis. He knew they had only been married a couple of months and was pleased to see the obvious affection they had for each other. Now, however, he noticed Abigail nervously reach out and take her husband’s hand.
“Impossible to say. With good wind, we’ll make it in a few weeks, but we could get becalmed.”
“I wonder why your father didn’t get a steam yacht,” Dalton Welborne asked, turning to Rena. “It would be much more efficient.”
“Oh, Dad’s such a seaman. He really belongs back in the days when there were only ships with sails,” she said with a laugh. “I think he really hates any ship with an engine.”
Travis was curious about the young woman. He had seen such contradictory signs in her. Sometimes she seemed hard, but at other times there was a vulnerability about her. Now as he watched her talking, he admired the glow of her eyes and the way her hair shone under the lights. He felt the pull of her presence and was displeased with himself for thinking such things.
After the captain had finished, Rena took over and began to outline the rules. “We will have a prayer time at breakfast every morning. Then in the afternoon we’ll have a service for the crew. None of them are believers, are they, Captain Barkley?”
Barkley did not answer for a moment, and Travis saw that he was irritated. “That’s not a requirement for my crew, Miss Rena.”
“Well, they need to hear the Gospel,” Rena insisted. Changing the subject, she held up a piece of paper and said, “I’ve been trying to assign the rooms so we’ll be most comfortable, but we’re one bed short.” She turned to Travis and said, “You’ll have to find your own place.”
Travis felt every eye turn toward him, but he said calmly, “That’ll be fine, Miss Matthews. I’ll enjoy sleeping on deck.”
Captain Barkley stared at Rena and said something to her Travis couldn’t hear. After the group broke up, he came by and said, “That was pretty raw, Winslow.”
“I’m the low man on the totem pole, Captain, but that’s all right.”
“Well, I’ll find you a bed. Don’t worry about it. You won’t have to sleep on deck.”
****
Lanie MacKay was standing on the deck watching the stars. She saw Pete Alford, who started to pass her by, then hesitated. “Are you excited about leaving, Peter?” she asked.
“Yes, I am.” He stood beside her at the rail, and the two gazed out over the sea. The moon was rising, making a V-shaped pattern on the water, narrow on the horizon and widening as it approached the ship. It glittered brightly in the gently rolling waves. “The Vikings called that the whale’s road,” Pete said.
“Did they? I didn’t know that.”
“I think I read it in a book somewhere. I don’t know why I remember unimportant things. Can’t get the important things into my mind.”
Lanie turned and looked up at Peter. She was five foot eleven and had been embarrassed about her height as long as she could remember. “How tall are you, Pete?” she asked.
“Oh, about six-three.”
“It’s nice to have to look up at a man. I usually have to look down.”
“Being tall is all right . . . but you bang your head a lot,” Alford said, grinning. “You don’t have a problem with your height, do you?”
Lanie hesitated. She did not know this man very well, and it would not do to start the trip with complaining about things that couldn’t be changed. “Oh, I suppose not.” She changed the subject. “I thought Rena was pretty mean with Travis earlier.”
“I guess she’s used to having her own way.”
“I suppose so.”
“Do you get seasick, Lanie?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never been on a ship.”
“No ship at all?”
“No, not any. Do you get sick? At sea, I mean?”
“You bet!” He laughed at his own confession and shrugged. “If you’re prone to getting seasick, there’s no way to avoid it on a ship at sea.”
The two stood there feeling the almost imperceptible motion of the Mary Anne beneath their feet, and finally Pete turned to her. “I’m worried about learning the language. I’m so slow. I never was much good at books.”
“Don’t put yourself down,” Lanie said quickly. “I do too much of that myself.”
“Don’t be silly! You don’t need to put yourself down. It’s not about being tall, is it?” he asked.
“I . . . I guess it is. The kids at school used to call me Too Tall MacKay.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what. You and I’ll form a club. We’ll call it the Poor Me Club. We’ll get together every day, and you can say, ‘Oh, poor me, I’m too tall.’ And then I’ll say, ‘Oh, poor me, I’m too dumb.’ We can cry on each other’s shoulders. You can hate short women, and I’ll hate all the smart people.”
Lanie smiled and looked up into Pete’s face. “We’d be the only members, I think.”
“I think that’s good. We won’t take anybody else into our club. The Poor Me Club, that’s what we’ll be.”
Lanie MacKay was slow to make friends, but somehow she already felt a companionship with this tall man. As they stood talking in the moonlight, she relaxed for the first time since agreeing to this trip, feeling better about herself and about what would happen in the days to come.
CHAPTER FIVE
Under Way
“I wish I felt better about this mission, but somehow I just can’t.” Loren Matthews turned from where he leaned on the rail of the Mary Anne to face Travis, who stood beside him. Both men had been gazing out past the harbor to the open sea, discussing the challenge that lay before The Twelve. The deep blue sky overhead seemed hard enough to scratch a match on. The water in the harbor was a bit choppy as boats plied their way in and out. The gulls circled, uttering their harsh cries, and as the cook, Oscar Blevins, threw the garbage over the side, they fell on it voraciously. Loren watched this gloomily and shook his salt-and-pepper hair. “I don’t know why I should feel so bad. It’s a good thing, mission work.”
“Yes, it is.” Travis was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a light blue short-sleeved shirt that exposed the tan of his upper arms. Turning to face the older man, he said, “It’ll be all right, Mr. Matthews. I believe God’s in it.”
“Do you?”
“Why, of course I do. You know that.”
“I’m glad you’re going,” Matthews said. “The rest of the team seem like a bunch of helpless babies to me.”
“They’re better than they look, I think.”
“I hope so. I’ve done all I can in the way of getting them ready.” Loren
Matthews grimaced and shook his head. “It seems like I put enough stores on here to supply the Queen Mary.”
“We’re not going to go hungry, that’s for sure. I doubt if many missionary groups go out as well supplied. You’ve done a wonderful job, sir.”
“It’s only money.”
“Of course it is, but it’ll make things easier when we start the work there.”
Both men turned to look where several of the passengers had gathered in the bow, talking and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Abby and Jimmy Townsend, as usual, were standing side by side, their arms around each other. “I like to see devotion like that. That couple is going to do fine,” Loren remarked. He turned his attention to Dalton and his daughter, standing in the point of the bow across from the Townsends. Rena was laughing up at Dalton, and for a moment the scene brought tears to Loren’s eyes. “She’s all I’ve got, Travis.” Stifling his emotions, he turned to Travis and said, “I wish you’d keep an eye on my girl.”
Travis was surprised at the remark. Loren Matthews was one of the most capable men he had ever met. Starting with a single truck, he had built one of the largest trucking firms in the United States. His lifelong fight against his competitors and the endless government regulations had left its mark on him. But even so, the weariness and apprehension that were apparent just now seemed unusual to Travis. The younger man sought for words to bring some comfort, and finally he said, “She’s a strong young lady, Mr. Matthews. She’ll be all right. We’ll all be all right.”
“I’m afraid Rena hasn’t been too kind toward you, Travis. I hate to say it, but I believe she’s a bit of a snob. I’m glad you’re willing to go despite her attitude.”
“I’m glad just to be allowed to go,” Travis remarked. He smiled then, and his teeth shone white against the bronze of his face. “But I promise you I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
“Good. I’d appreciate that.”
As the two stood talking Rena left the group in the bow and came toward them with determination. “Travis,” she snapped, “go down and help the professor shift his things around. Some of the boxes are pretty heavy.”
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