The Wake of the Lorelei Lee: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, On Her Way to Botany Bay

by Louis A. Meyer

  No, of course I did not race Jaimy and his Cerberus to this spot. My Lorelei Lee is much too swift for that to be any kind of contest. Plus, Jaimy's ship had no armament, and we could not leave him sailing alone, helpless. No, we sailed in concert down the west coast of Australia. Did we get together, he and I, during that time? Closely together? Alas, no. We were both much too busy for that. No, we communicated only by signal flag, as we needed to get down to the penal colony as fast as we could, bending as much canvas on the slower Cerberus as possible. Jaimy is woefully short-handed on his ship and is finding it more and more difficult to handle his unruly cargo. I have given him Suggs and Monk, but that's about all I can spare. My Crews are pretty much satisfied, but still...

  And, actually, we are not in Botany Bay. That is a bay a little to the south of here that had originally been designated as the site of the penal colony but later deemed unsuitable, not having a proper safe harbor. No, we are in Sydney Cove, New South Wales, the site of the permanent colony. It has good, protected moorings, lots of sea room; it's just not as poetic sounding as Botany Bay.

  When we came to this place, the Lorelei Lee stood in first, followed by the Cerberus. Then the Lee gave out a lusty, rolling, twelve-gun salute, which, I am sure, got the attention of the inhabitants.

  Ah, yes, I do love a bit of a show. True, but I also wanted to let them know that we were armed and could do them great damage should we choose to do so. That stockade wall over there, for instance ... Several well-placed shots and the confined prisoners would pour out of the breach ... Wouldn't want that, Captain Bligh, now, would we? I am sure those prisoners are not in the best of temper, hmmmm?

  We had arrived at the penal colony together, held a conference by signal flag, and agreed that Jaimy would go in first to present his cargo for payment, with us to cover him with our guns. Upon our anchoring, he immediately took leave for the shore and has been in the Commandant's headquarters for a good hour now, and I grow ever more fearful. What if he is taken? He is still a convict after all ... and so am I...

  There are other complications to this. There always are. I had lowered a dory for Major Johnston, such that he could go in to assume command of the red-coated garrison, which he did, leaving his Esther to join him later, when all was set and safe. He soon found out, however, and had informed us as well, that the colony was seething with fury and on the edge of open rebellion and it was up to him to handle it. In short, Captain Bligh had cut off the rum ration to everyone, convict or garrison guard alike, and the place was in turmoil.

  Damn! Has that man no sense? First the mutiny on the Bounty, and now here, too?

  I hold my breath and keep my long glass trained on the colony's headquarters... Come on, Jaimy, you can pull this off ... and, yes! There he is!

  I let out my breath upon seeing him. Through my long glass I see him return to his boat. He knows I am watching, so he waves an envelope in triumph over his head, and the boat heads straight for the Lorelei Lee.

  "All right, Higgins," I say. "It is our turn. If there is the slightest bit of trouble, I shall turn this place into a raging inferno! I will not lose you for all the money in the—"

  "Please hush, Miss," says Higgins calmly, smiling that little smile of his. "Was I not trained in the finest thespian tradition by none other than Messrs. Fennel and Bean? Never fear. All shall be well." And he goes off, with the manifest of the surviving convicts, all in good health and a good many pregnant, to present the bill to a rather harried Captain Bligh, Commandant—at least for the moment—of the British Penal Colony at New South Wales. I continue to hold my breath.

  Mr. Seabrook assumes the deck as Captain Fletcher of the Cerberus comes aboard. Jaimy and I go below and into my cabin. We are instantly locked in an embrace and it is oh, so good!

  He leans me back and my straw hat falls off my head, as does my curly black wig. He reaches back and grabs my thick pigtail and pulls my head back, making my mouth fall open ... and upon that open mouth he plants a kiss, yes, a kiss to make up for all those kisses never delivered over our star-crossedy ears. Oh, yes, oh...

  There is a ringing of the ship's bell, and then a discreet knock upon my door.

  "Missy Memsahib?" I hear Ravi say. "Sahib Higgins returns in boat."

  I struggle out of Jaimy's grasp and say, "There are things that need to be done, dear, just wait..."

  I put my wig and hat back on, and again go out on deck—Ravi, see that Mr. Fletcher is made comfortable and has refreshment—just in time to see my dear Higgins come up over the brow.

  He catches my eye and then taps his vest, wherein lies, I know, yet another check drawn on the East India Company.

  Joy!

  "Higgins," I say, putting a kiss upon his cheek in my relief at seeing him back. "So soon?"

  "Captain Bligh was ... preoccupied, to put it lightly."

  "The Rum Rebellion ... yes, I know. The poor man just does not know how to handle people. But, no matter. Please join Mr. Fletcher in my cabin. I'll be in directly ... I must say goodbye to my girls."

  He bows and goes below.

  I proceed to the brow and signal to Mr. Hinckley that all may depart. The Bo'sun puts his pipe to his lips and blows long and hard, and there is a great cheer as the Crews begin to go off.

  Mrs. Barnsley leads the way, of course, followed by her "gels," and then the Tartans and the Judies descend to the waiting boats. My Newgaters are the last to go.

  "Goodbye, Mary Wade," I say to the youngest of my crew, and hug her to me. "I am sure you will do well here. And Mary Reibey, please steal no more horses, and Ann, oh, I hate to see you go, but it's all for the best, you'll see."

  I had seen to it that each of my Newgaters now carries a bundle containing a fresh dress, clean linen, soap, brush, and a small packet of money to start them off in their new life. Two pounds six, which is more than they had when they came onboard my ship, that's for sure. I also begged Esther Abrahams Johnston to look out for them till all are settled, she having some influence as wife to the Garrision Commander. She said she would, and I believe her.

  "Goodbye, Esther," I say, clutching her hands. "Go now to your husband. He is a good man and you shall be a good wife to him, I just know it." She nods, turns, and is gone with the rest.

  Wiping the tears off my cheeks, I turn to the next to go, only to see that just as I had expected, I'm losing two more of my crew. I hate to see this pair go, even if they are the most hapless of sailors.

  "I likes me Maggie, and she says she likes me, too, so I'm sticking with her," says Keefe, his seabag on his shoulder and his arm around my good friend Mag, who grins at me as I place a goodbye kiss on her cheek. We all stand at the brow as they go off.

  "Didn't we have some times, then, Jacky, didn't we?"

  "Yes, we did, Maggie, and there's better times comin', you'll see," I say, tearin' up even more than usual in times like this.

  "They say they'll give us free colonists some land and a plow, some seed and a mule," says Mick, standing by his Isabella. "So we'll give farmin' it a shot. God knows we wasn't very good at bein' sailors. Plus Bella here is with child, which she says is mine, so we've got to see what the little blighter looks like, eh?"

  "Indeed, Mick. Goodbye to you both. I know you shall prosper." I plant a farewell kiss on his weathered cheek, and they all go off to follow their destiny ... their karma, as I am beginning to see it.

  Cookie, however, elects to stay onboard the Lee.

  "The ladies was lovely and I know I'll never see their likes again," he says. "But I was born at sea and I reckon I'll die there, too."

  Jezebel also elects to stay.

  When I've see them all off, good and proper, I return to my cabin, where Higgins, Ravi, and yes, my dear Jaimy, looking absolutely lovely in his captain's gear, are therein. True, he might now be a pirate in the eyes of Mother England, but he still looks grand.

  "Please sit, everyone," I say, and doff both wig and hat. "And let us lift a glass or two in celebration of our n
ew freedom ... and maybe in our new wealth. Higgins, what have you to report in that regard?"

  Ravi places a glass in front of me, and Higgins pulls an envelope from his vest and hands it to me.

  "I have here a check drawn on the Bank of the East India Company in the amount of four thousand, six hundred pounds sterling," says my good Mr. Higgins.

  "Not a bad haul, considering," I say, handing the check back to him. "We shall be able to meet the payroll of Faber Shipping Worldwide this pay period, I believe, Mr. Higgins."

  "Even so, Miss," agrees Higgins. "And a good deal left over. We should tender our heartfelt thanks to John Bull and the East India Company."

  "Yes, we shall, Higgins," I say with some satisfaction. "I think they both will, indeed, regret the day they sent Jacky Faber in chains to Botany Bay."

  Higgins laughs. "I am sure they will, when their bespectacled accountants, hunched over their ledgers, run their ink-stained fingers down over their columns of figures ... and wonder just where in the world a large amount of money went missing."

  "Serves them right," I say. "They had it coming ... And now, Captain Fletcher, how did the Cerberus fare?"

  Jaimy pulls out his own check and looks at it.

  "Five thousand, three hundred and sixty," he says. "Not bad."

  "Not bad, indeed, dear," I say, growing serious. "But now I must talk to Captain Fletcher ... alone..."

  All rise, except for Jaimy, and they bow and leave. When they are gone, I go and place myself in Jaimy's lap. After I place a good one on his lips... oh, yes... I commence with what I've got to say.

  "Jaimy. We need to think clearly about some things. This place is in turmoil, and for us it is dangerous. There is no food, no supplies, and Major Johnston reports there is a rebellion brewing over the cutting off of the rum ration. And you and I, and your Irish crew as well, are all escaped convicts ... Mairead, too, and Ian, and all the rest..."

  I pause for breath and nuzzle my face into his neck. "We must run."

  "We must run, Jacky? After all this?" he says, running his hands up my back. "No, I won't have it. We have two ships—pirates, I know—but I have gone through too much to be denied now."

  "I know, dear, but we must think," I say, breathing heavily into his ear. "Your ship is unarmed and helpless. You must run up to Batavia—there is an English bank there—and deposit that check, then spend every cent of it on guns for your ship! Every cent! Arm yourself to the teeth!"

  "But—"

  "Please, Jaimy, listen to me. If we tarry—and you know I want to so very much—we might be lost. And to have come all this way only to fail ... I couldn't stand it. Be off, love, and be safe. I'll meet you south of Batavia, off a place called Singapore. Then we can relax our guard and enjoy peace ... and each other. Please, Jaimy, fly away! The Golden Dragon pennant will protect you on your way there."

  I give him a packet containing that flag ... and one other.

  "One kiss, love, and off! Please tell me you will!" I plead.

  He does, though it tears my heart out to see him go.

  I watch the Cerberus raise the Golden Dragon pennant, drop the mainsails, catch the wind, and then heel off. Flying also is the other flag I had made for him on the way to this place. No, it is not the blue anchor of Faber Shipping, no. I know he is not yet ready to fly that flag. It is the Jolly Roger, just like mine, flapping all bold in the wind.

  Might as well be hanged for a wolf as for a sheep, I always say...

  Chapter 70

  I'm lolling about on my foretop, thoughts of the future slipping in and out of my mind as the Lorelei Lee pounds up the Strait of Malacca, heading north. We expect to rendezvous with the Cerberus in a few days, maybe even sooner.

  I stretch out lazily in the sun and gaze up at the flags snapping in the breeze above me, the roguish Jolly Roger grinning above the Golden Dragon pennant. When that dragon flag waves, it looks like the dragon's tail is twisting on itself, over and over, in the wind. Very effective, and very beautiful, and I reflect on how very clever are the Chinese. I am clever, too, in my own way, and had several copies of that pennant sewn up on our way down to Botany Bay, just in case I add any more ships to my fleet.

  Another lazy stretch and a heavy sigh. Ah, yes... Here, Josephine, a bit of a scratch behind your ear? Feels good, doesn't it? I'm dressed in my cool Chinese silks and Josephine is clad in her natural reddish hair and both of us are content to be just sinfully slothful on our perch aloft on this perfectly beautiful day. Ummm...

  My sluggish mind tells me that once I meet up with Jaimy again, we'll have to decide where we are going to go and what we are going to do. Shall we stick around in the South China Sea, raiding a town here and there for plunder and supplies? When Jaimy arms the Cerberus, we will be a strong fighting force. But no, that doesn't seem to be quite the way to go. The shipping and the seaports we have seen around these parts seem rather poor and meager, and I really don't like that sort of thing anymore—taking other people's stuff and all—since I find I don't like it when people take my stuff, no, I don't. I think of the recent loss of my precious Lee, and how I had ached until she was returned to me. I pat her smooth foretop deck beneath me. Never again shall you slip away from me, I swear it.

  Down below on the main hatch, I hear Ravi going over English lessons with Mr. Lee Chi...

  A... Bee ... Ceee ... Dee...

  Ah ... Bay ... Chee ... Day...

  No, no, Sahib Lee... A... Bee ... Ceeeee ... Deeee ... Like that.

  Ravi is patient and Lee Chi is coming right along. Both Higgins and I agree that he will be a valuable asset to Faber Shipping when we open up the China trade. Yes, we've changed his name a bit, thinking "Silly-silly" was just not a fit appellation for an employee of said august corporation. After much gesticulation and sign language, we discovered that originally his family name had been Lee, so we combined it with Chi, and we went with that. Mr. Lee has been instructed in other things, such as how I like my bed made—nice and tight, with the corners folded in just right—so has relieved Ravi of those duties, freeing him up for other pursuits. As soon as Lee Chi has learned enough English to understand that he is no longer a slave but rather an employee of Faber Shipping, he will be informed of his new role in helping us open up trade. Till then, hey, he is an excellent servant, and I can appreciate that, having been one myself.

  Lee Chi, has, in fact, just this morning drawn a bath for me in my lovely little copper tub, and has washed, combed, and rebraided my pigtail. He has even given my head a bit of a shave as I intend to keep it in the Chinese style for as long as I am in these waters. And oh, how I would love to prance into the dining hall of the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls coiffed and attired like this! Would that not be a howl? Oh, yes! I allow him to take his razor to my armpits and touch up my lower legs, as well, as I will soon be entertaining Mr. James Emerson Fletcher and I will want to be at my smooth best. However, I do instruct Lee Chi and his razor to leave my nether part alone.

  I have to chuckle at that, and Josephine notices and looks at me curiously—very perceptive monkey that she is—and then I have to laugh again over one thing that was especially amusing on that otherwise very tense day back there at the penal colony. As the Cerberus had been discharging its cargo of convicts, one of that number who was struggling mightily had to be taken off bound and gagged. The guards who took custody of the unfortunate man were informed that he had gone insane on the way there, the poor man being convinced that he was a legitimate member of the ship's crew and not a prisoner. He was written into the manifest as one Thaddeus Stevens, who had been transported for life for the crime of forgery, but was, in fact—heh-heh—the poor Weasel. Ha! Let's see the creepy little bastard talk his way out of that one! Plus, Jaimy got ten pounds six for his wormy hide! And they say that James Emerson Fletcher does not have a sense of humor! Ha!

  Ah, yes, and about Jaimy ... I did hustle him off quite briskly down there 'round Botany Bay, with the excuse that he must immediately arm his C
erberus, and, of course, Higgins saw right through me, as usual, smiling his small smile as he set out my lonely dinner that first night away. Our other dinners on this trip have been joyous, with Messrs. Seabrook, Gibson, and Hinckley in attendance in my cabin, and with the Shantyman to provide music and laughter, but it wasn't quite the same without good old Captain Gussie, he having passed on to a place hopefully joyous enough to contain the spirit of that happy man, and Mairead, back on the Cerberus and bedded up with her dear Ian, and all the members of the Crews right now spreading the joy of their presence through the colony at New South Wales. Still, we maintain our cheer as best we can.

  "All right, Higgins, you see right through me, as always," I had said, poking at my otherwise delicious dinner.

  "Whatever do you mean, Miss?" he'd asked, knowing full well what I meant.

  "Yes, I sent poor Jaimy off with only a kiss or two, when he had every expectation of ... you know..."

  "I had no notion."

  "Of course you didn't, my ever present mentor. Of course, you didn't..."

  It's at least five months back to the Atlantic, and maybe I don't want to be with child during that time. Maybe I want—Oh, I don't know what I want. Everything is just so damned complicated. I don't know ... Maybe I'll just relax and let my karma take me where it will ... Maybe I am turning Chinese, after all...

  I turn my head to watch the shore of Sumatra slipping past, several miles out to the west. That shore is quiet, unlike the Australian shore we had left on our starboard side not many days ago. That place had constantly reverberated with low, weird humming sounds that I knew came from no human nor animal throat. There were drums, also, and buzzing noises, and I had a strong suspicion that the local inhabitants were expressing their joy over the prospect of John Bull setting up a colony on their land—the same so-called joy that Tecumseh and Chee-a-quat and his people felt when it happened to them, I suspect.