by John Boyne
He became very silent after telling me this and his voice hesitated.
‘It was murder, a terrible crime,’ he said finally. ‘But it is a fact of our lives, the end that any of us can come to if we accept the king’s shilling. The question is how courageously we fall. And we avenged ourselves on those fellows most bloodily, of course. They lived only a short time to regret their deeds.’
I sat back and thought on it. It was not quite as I had expected the story to be, but he had told it now, he had done what I had asked, and there seemed little left for either of us to say. I couldn’t help but wonder about his part in the drama, and perhaps he felt a little of that too in his retelling of the dreadful tale, but if he held regrets he made no mention of them. Finally he stood up and relieved one of the rowers, taking the oars in his great hands and urging his companion to row, to row faster, ever faster, that we might make our destination all the sooner.
That night, it should be told, we fair swept through the waters.
84
Day 44: 10 June
DAVID NELSON AND LAWRENCE LEBOGUE recovered a little today and it became clear that they would not be receiving their reward immediately. They sat up and ingested a little bread and water – more than their share, on the captain’s orders – and seemed much improved.
The captain himself fell ill late in the day, suffering from an abnormality of the stomach, and was greatly aggrieved and not to be spoken to for much of the evening. For the first time in our voyage he curled up like a baby, hugging his body to himself for warmth, though with little success as it became impossible to do so when the rain soaked our clothes.
Later we saw some gannets and boobies, which gave us hope that we were near Timor, but the horizon offered nothing as yet and we had scant choice but to sail on.
85
Day 45: 11 June
BY THIS MORNING THE CAPTAIN had recovered somewhat but he looked a miserable creature, as we all did. Our faces seemed sunken and hollowed-out, the limbs of many men appeared either to have contracted or become swollen intolerably by our cramped conditions, and we were sleeping for large parts of the day. I recall thinking that my life now consisted of only two things: rowing our launch or lying asleep. Conversation had died, argument had diffused, hope simmered gently.
When implored by the men to gauge the distance, Captain Bligh insisted that it would not be long now and we should be alert, every man jack of us, for the sight of land in case we had drifted too far off our course, that it would take keen eyes to discover it, but many of us had difficulties with this proposition, for our sight was lowly. My left eye had improved a little, but the shadow remained behind it and, although I had no glass to prove it, I doubted that I was the pretty lad I had been when I had left Portsmouth, or even Otaheite.
It was at this stage that my spirits sank again. Forty-five days we had been at sea and, while I yet lived, it was a miserable existence. I longed for freedom, for land to run upon, a fine meal to eat. I found myself regretting painfully the fact that I had chosen loyalty to the captain over a life of ease and sensual pleasure on the island. I found my anger bubbling and when I looked towards Mr Bligh I wondered what manner of man was he anyway, and why I had followed him when I was heading towards certain death.
I longed for food and water.
I was desperate for it.
86
Day 46: 12 June
I SLEPT.
I dreamed of the Portsmouth streets, empty and desolate, the winds blowing, the fruit stalls fallen over. I saw myself running towards Mr Lewis’s establishment, desperate to see him, flinging open the doors and charging up the stairs to where my bunk and those of my brothers lay, but they were empty and the sheets pulled away. I looked around. I was alone.
I woke.
I sat by the oars with someone rowing beside me, who I knew not. I extended my arms and pulled them back in, dragging the water with me. I watched the horizon. I ran my tongue along my lips, hoping to find some moisture there. The sun burned down on me. I rowed and perhaps could have rowed until I died, only the captain told me my time had come and I slid away and found a small piece of the tub to call my own.
And I slept.
I saw the Bounty and happy days on it. I pictured sitting at the captain’s table in his pantry with a fine meal before me, the captain and Mr Fryer on either side of me. The Frenchman, Mr Zéla, seated opposite. Captain Cook telling a story about an adventure he had enjoyed on the Endeavour. And then him pointing a fork at Mr Bligh and making an accusatory remark, at which point—
I woke.
I looked towards the horizon. Nothing. I stared at the sailors. None of us spoke. Mr Bligh divided a morsel of bread into eighteen and when he handed me mine I started to laugh, a queer sort of laughter, though, for there was no humour in it. I looked at the piece of bread; no bigger than my thumbnail, it was intended to last me for the day. I don’t know what made me do it, but I rested my arm over the side of the tub, the bread held twixt thumb and forefinger, and released it to the water. Mr Elphinstone opened his eyes when he saw me do it, but made no signal; then he closed them again. I watched as the morsel bobbed for a moment or two on the surface of the water and then, to my surprise, a fish appeared and swallowed my breakfast, my lunch, my supper, before plunging down into the depths again.
It made no difference. There was no point eating any more.
Death was before me.
I could feel it.
87
Day 47: 13 June
SLEEP.
Hunger.
Rowing.
Hunger.
Thirst.
Hunger.
Nothing more.
88
Day 48: 14 June
THE CAPTAIN PLACED THE BREAD in my mouth.
‘Eat, Turnstile,’ he said. ‘You must eat.’
I locked my lips together. I no longer wanted it. I wanted him to leave me alone, to let me go.
‘Get away,’ I said, forgetting my station and pushing his hand away.
‘Mr Fryer, hold his mouth open.’
A pair of unfamiliar fingers pressed my lips, separating them. I allowed it. My tongue extended and I tasted their salt. Then the bread, which I chewed although it made me ill to do so. Then a taste of water.
‘Captain, that’s your—’
‘Quiet, Mr Fryer,’ he whispered. ‘The lad is going. I’ll not have that.’
‘But you are as important—’
‘Quiet, sir,’ he said beneath his breath.
I opened my eyes for a moment and there was brightness, the sun pouring down. I blinked and it was night. The rains seemed to have stopped and the gales too, or I could not feel them any more anyway. I could feel naught. My arms and legs were as light as feathers. The pangs in my belly had vanished too. In a moment of clarity I felt that my reward was due, that the Saviour was calling me home. Beneath my head there seemed to be a pillow, but how? I pressed my skull down a little and met with the solidity of bone. Looking up I saw Mr Bligh; my head rested in his lap, his hand was slowly combing my hair with his fingers. I smiled at him and for a moment he caught my eyes and smiled back.
‘Stay awake, John Jacob,’ he said and his voice was half-gone now too. He wasn’t whispering; there was simply no way that he could speak any louder. ‘We will survive. We will all survive.’
‘He wants me back,’ I said.
‘Who does?’
‘The Saviour,’ I replied.
‘Not yet, he doesn’t, lad.’
‘Mr Lewis, then. Him as what brought me up. He’s calling to me.’
‘He’ll never have a hold of you again, boy. I’ll see to that myself.’
I nodded and let out a deep and painful sigh.
‘Stay with me, lad,’ he said more forcefully. ‘I . . . I command you to stay with me!’
I tried to smile, even as my head turned. I felt a dizziness in my skull and the world turned very dark and then very white. I could feel the very breath
in my body seeping away. I exhaled once and waited – interested – to feel whether my soul would allow my body to inhale once again. It did, but it was deep and painful and I tried to swallow and willed myself to stop. To allow the end to come.
And then it did. The world turned a pale yellow, as if I was entering the sunlight, and I had a curious feeling that, if I tried to stand and run and dance a jig on the deck of the Bounty again, I could do so. That my strength would return. And this is it, I thought then, accepting the freedom of it.
This is the moment of my death.
And then came a tiny sound . . . I can hear it still . . . a voice . . . raised . . . a little . . . saying, ‘Captain, Captain, look!’
‘Captain, look yonder!’
‘We’ve done it.’
‘Captain, we’ve done it.’
And one very distant voice, low, resigned, grateful.
‘Aye, lads, we have. We are saved.’
Part V
The Return
15 JUNE 1789 – TODAY
89
THE FIRST THING I FELT when I opened my eyes was hunger. The second was the sensation that I had been asleep for quite some time, and I immediately groaned, remembering where I was, in that blasted tub, with nothing to eat or drink and the life draining out of me. But as the mist cleared from my eyes and I started to focus on my surroundings, I realized that I was not in the launch any longer, but lying atop a bunk. There was a clean sheet stretched across my body and the air did not smell like it did at sea; it was fresher and warmer and there was no salt threatening to stop up your throat and give you the conniptions. A pleasant breeze was fluttering over my face and I turned my head slowly to see a woman seated beside me, waving a great fan up and down in a slow fashion to provide me with coolness.
I licked my lips and my tongue almost stuck to my upper gums, so dry were they, and I felt a great need for water. Not knowing what else to do to attract the lady’s attention – for she was engrossed in thoughts of her own and scarcely paying me any attention at all – I searched deep down within myself for something approaching sound, and within a few seconds a groan escaped my mouth, such as might come from a grizzly bear or a calf moments after it has first found its feet.
The lady’s eyes flickered towards me and she gave a great start.
‘Oh!’ she cried. ‘You’re awake.’
‘Aye,’ said I, my voice emerging gravelly from my throat, so that I hardly sounded like myself at all. ‘Where am I? Have I earned my reward?’
‘Your reward?’ she asked, laughing and shaking her head as if I had no other business there than to make a farce for her. ‘Dear me, no, lad. This is no heaven, I assure you.’
‘Then, where . . . ?’ I began, but before I could get any more words out of my mouth I felt a great sinking feeling, and the room went dark and when I opened my eyes again I was sure that several hours had passed, although the lady was still there, fanning me. This time when she looked in my direction she did not seem quite so surprised.
‘Good afternoon, Master Turnstile,’ she said. ‘You’re looking better already. You could do with some water, I dare say?’
‘My name,’ I whispered. ‘How do you know it?’
I lost interest in the answer immediately, for she was pouring a cup of water from a tall earthenware jug so cold that a perspiration was trickling down its side. I looked at it and thought I might cry, but shook my head.
‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘Just a thimbleful. We must ration it.’
‘There is no need,’ she replied, smiling. ‘We have water aplenty. Please do not worry about that any more.’
I took the cup from her and stared at it for a moment. A whole cup of water. It seemed amazing to me, the finest gift I had ever received. I put it to my lips and attempted to drink it all in one go, but she took it from me and shook her head.
‘Slowly, Master Turnstile,’ she said. ‘You do not want to make yourself ill. More ill,’ she added, correcting herself.
I attempted to sit up a little at that and as I did so I realized that, beneath my sheet, I lay in the altogether and was already half exposed to the lady. I immediately pulled the blanket to my shoulders and took on the reddenings.
‘No need to be shy,’ she said, looking away for a moment. ‘I have been nursing you this last week. You’re no mystery to me now, I’m afraid.’
I frowned but had scarcely the energy to acknowledge the shame of it, so simply looked away from her eyes to examine my surroundings. I was no longer at sea, that was for sure. I was in a room of some sort, whose walls appeared to be constructed from bamboo. The ground beneath us was solid, the bunk I lay in as soft as any I could recall, and from outside came the sound of movement and men’s voices.
‘Where am I?’ I asked, feeling the surprise of tears behind my eyes, for this was a great shock to me altogether, although not an unpleasant one.
‘Timor,’ she replied. ‘You have heard of it?’
‘The captain . . .’ I muttered, as memories of our voyage returned to me slowly. ‘He talked of it. Do you mean . . . ?’ I could scarcely believe that what I was about to suggest was a possibility. ‘Do you mean that we arrived safely?’ I asked. ‘We are not drowned?’
‘Of course you are not drowned,’ she said. ‘Or eaten by fish. Yes, you arrived. I have it that you spent forty-eight days at sea since the act of piracy. It’s a remarkable achievement.’
‘We survived,’ I said, astonished by the fact of it. ‘The captain said we would.’
‘Your captain is a remarkable man,’ she said.
I blinked and stared at her for a moment, a sudden worry entering my mind, and sat up so that my bits and pieces were almost on display, but I cared not. ‘And he’s alive too?’ I asked. ‘Tell me quickly: the captain, Mr Bligh, he is alive?’
‘Yes, yes,’ she said, placing a cool hand on the bare skin of my shoulder to comfort me. ‘Now, lie down, lad. It will do you no good to expend your energies yet. You must recover first.’
‘And he is well?’
‘He was not well when you first came to our shores,’ she admitted. ‘Like all of you, he was very ill. One of the worst, in fact. But he recovered quickly. He has great . . . spirit, that is for sure. And resentment.’
‘Resentment?’
She narrowed her eyes for a moment, as if unsure whether to continue or not, but finally she shook her head and dismissed the thought. ‘He is alive and you are alive and you are safe here. This is a Dutch settlement of civilized Christian men and women. We have taken care of you.’
‘And I thank you for it,’ I replied, lying back and feeling relieved now by the news. ‘I was very ill?’
‘Very,’ she said. ‘We thought we had lost you at one point. On that first day, you were very low. We gave you water and forced some fruit into you, but you rejected most of it. The second day, you rallied. The third you woke for a moment and sat up, startled, and spoke to me.’
‘I did not!’ I cried in surprise. ‘I have no recall of it.’
‘It was a delirium, that was all. You shouted “I’ll not go back to you” and “I must save my brothers”.’
‘I said that, did I?’ I asked quietly.
‘Yes. But your brothers are safe. They are recovering too.’
I frowned and considered that remark. ‘My brothers?’ I asked. ‘You know them, then?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘You must focus, lad: you are failing to understand me. Your brothers. The men who sailed in the launch with you. After the mutiny.’
‘Ah, them,’ I said, accepting it. ‘I see. You think I referred to them.’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘Aye,’ I said with a shrug, wondering whether I did or not. ‘And what else then?’
‘After that, you became low again and for a few days we knew not whether we might keep you in this world. But then yesterday I observed colour in your cheeks and you awoke.’
‘I awoke yesterday?’ I asked.
‘We
spoke. I gave you water and you wanted to ration it.’
I could scarce believe it. ‘That was yesterday?’ I asked. ‘It feels like no more than a few minutes ago.’
‘And now today you are much recovered,’ she admitted. ‘You are restored to us once again and the worst is behind you.’
‘So I will live?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Well, I’m glad of it,’ I said, shaking my head in astonishment at all that had happened. I felt a great weariness come over me and told her that I needed sleep again. She smiled in a very kindly way and said that was a good idea, that my body needed restoration, and she would see to it that I was fed and watered and kept clean and given all the sleep that I needed until I could stand and run again and make for home.
Home, I thought. I had forgotten that.
And as I drifted off once again, as my mind slipped from that most comfortable of rooms into another place, a place of dreams and memory, I swear that I heard a familiar voice speaking to the lady and enquiring after my health and her replying that there was nothing more to worry about, that it might take a few days yet, but I was an eager young pup and would not allow a little hunger and thirst to overtake me.
