‘What?’
‘They’ve got me working in the galley making…’
‘Food?’ I was back at the rail. Sam walked off. Later two more sailors dragged me back to the steps and slid me down. I crawled into our cabin. Another miserable night.
Something had changed by morning, something a little better. If I moved I still felt the nausea waft over me but it definitely wasn’t as strong. I sat up carefully, put my feet to the floor. I tried to stand, my body didn’t like the idea and I collapsed back onto the thin straw mattress, cracking my head as I fell back.
The noise must have woken Sam, his nose screwed up at the smell as he looked at me. ‘Any better?’
I nodded.
Sam got up and left the cabin, returning with water and a crust of bread. He pulled me to sit.
This time the water stayed down and I even managed a mouthful of the stale bread before easing back down onto the bed.
‘You’ll have to move,’ Sam said almost in a whisper. ‘Captain says he’s not been paid enough to let you stay below.’
I turned over, ‘What’s he want me to do?’ I stopped, thinking that Sam was going to say something about the galley again. I couldn’t face the idea of working with food.
‘Something on deck,’ said Sam now looking out of the porthole. Sunlight and warmth streamed in. ‘He says there’s a long way…’ Sam tailed off.
‘Where are we going?’ I felt too weak to worry about anything and I could hear there was real fear in Sam’s voice. ‘Tell me,’ I groaned, thinking the mouthful of bread had been a bad idea.
‘I told him we wanted to get after Ivy and Jenna,’ Sam looked back at me. ‘He just laughed and said something about dropping us off after they’d picked up the boys.’
‘Boys?’
Sam didn’t answer straight away. He was listening, probably worried that someone might overhear our conversation.
‘We’re headed for Africa,’ Sam stopped again, went to the door and pulled it open to check, there was no one there. ‘There’s plenty of room on this ship below the decks, plenty of room and it’s divided up…with bars.’
I pushed past him rushing for daylight. Sam left. It was much later, lying on the bunk that I had time to think over his words. Plenty of room, bars, Africa and ‘boys’. Sounded like the slave trade to me.
Off the Coast of Africa
-6-
Days at sea were all much the same. As the captain predicted, I recovered from sea sickness. Going out on deck the sea stretched for ever, no land and no other ships. Someone thought once that I didn’t like open spaces, that I had agoraphobia. That wasn’t right, it just took me time to get used to seeing nothing. Actually I quite liked it. And we had to work.
Sam stayed in the galley. He was good with food, not that there was much choice. Sam helped the ship’s cook, a huge man with a permanently greasy chin. I suppose he was the only one who ate all day. The rest of the crew were skinny and very fit from climbing the rigging and running around after the captain shouted orders.
That was what I was expected to do. After a day or two I got the hang of it, suddenly it was something I could do. I’d never done much climbing before – just jumping over walls when being chased, mostly something to do with Dad. But on this ship we had to climb right to the top of the mast, up into the rigging, handling the sails, taking turns at the lookout and everything was done at speed. I wasn’t the youngest on the boat and it was the younger members of the crew who were the best climbers but soon I was up with them all. Standing up there on the lookout – the crow’s nest they called it although there weren’t many birds to see out here – the wind blowing in my hair, it made things easier. I still worried about Jenna and Mum but when you have to watch every step it’s hard to think about other things.
That was until they told me what I was looking for.
‘Any ship you see, shout “SAIL” as loud as you can,’ said the captain. ‘They’ll be looking for us.’
I didn’t get more information from him, especially when I asked what to shout if it didn’t have a sail, forgetting that all ships had sails in those times. It seemed that whatever ship we saw was unlikely to be friendly. I tried to ask Ben, who was the youngest and looked after the captain.
‘They’ll sink us.’ That was all he told me about the other ships. ‘Cannons,’ he said, and made a loud booming noise before running off as the captain shouted for him to get higher up the rigging.
None of the other crew talked to us, except for passing on orders, I thought they were quite suspicious. But they probably knew where we were going and what was happening and I suppose I should have tried to find out more. Sam and I didn’t talk much either. The work exhausted us. As soon as you got off duty it was time to hit your bunk and that was it until someone shook you awake to start again.
We were lucky to have the cabin. It was part of the deal that Hugh had fixed. The rest of the crew were in hammocks in one big area under the decks. When I did get down there, usually to get a crew member for his shift, I saw the barred cells that Sam had told me about. But they were empty spaces. Maybe I had invented the idea that this was a slave ship.
One morning I woke to the sounds of shouts. Sleepily I climbed from the bunk, dragged on my tunic and made it onto the deck. Land. In the far distance a hazy line broke the curve of the sea. I climbed higher. The ship was sailing on a straight course and there wasn’t much that needed to be done. All the crew were on the deck, watching.
We drew closer. I started to see more shapes. Huge trees stretched down to the water side. A forest of trees and it reminded me of things I’d seen before in the caveman world. The trees were shrouded in cloud. Jungle. The temperature had been rising over the last few days and I was sweating even up here amongst the ropes and sails.
‘Bearing 120,’ shouted the captain to the man at the wheel.
Slowly the ship turned a little more towards the land. The sails flapped and we all struggled to set them for this new course. It took ages for us to near the land. When we did we sailed past a point jutting out into the sea. There was a building and I thought I saw people, but we stayed away from the shore. The day wore on. As the light started to fade the captain turned the ship again. Straight towards the forest.
I suppose it had all been planned, that we would arrive here at nearly full moon and in the evening when the on-shore wind took us closer.
It was an eerie sight. Moonlight bouncing off the waves. Sailing in silence until the ship neared the shore when we heard the roar of waves hitting a reef. I could see the foam and spray from the breakers, quite a way out from the line of trees which backed the fringe of sand along the coast.
I couldn’t see any sign of people or buildings, so I had no idea where we were going. We rounded a curve in the land and a wide inlet opened up.
The captain shouted for someone to measure the depth. They did that by throwing out a line with a weight and shouting back how deep it was. The captain kept shouting for more depth measurements, we were in a river and it was getting shallower until we turned another corner and it became deeper again. It was clear that the captain had been here before.
We turned in again, Ben told me it was a long river and he didn’t know the name. There was a strange silence among the crew. Everyone was on edge. I looked round and saw that the captain and several of the crew held pistols in their belts.
‘Top and main down, steady on the fore,’ the captain called for sail changes in a loud whisper.
We shot up the rigging, furling up most of the sail. I felt a shiver as we floated on, silently we drew further up the river, no longer hearing the waves in the distance. I think I knew what was going to happen. I tried to put the idea out of my mind.
Slowly we turned another corner and saw lights along the shore. A few burning lanterns next to a few hut
s.
‘Anchor away,’ the captain ordered and there was no way to do that quietly. The rumble of the chain crashed into the silence. As soon as the anchor was down I could hear shouts from the huts, a mass of people crowded around a small jetty.
It had taken all night to reach this spot and slowly a grey dawn light let me see what was happening. I dropped down to the deck. Sam was standing at the rail.
‘Slaves,’ I whispered to him and he nodded. The thought of it made me boil, angry thoughts filled my mind, useless angry thoughts.
‘What are we going to do?’ Sam said quietly and I don’t think he expected an answer because neither of us could think of anything we could actually do.
Two small boats left the jetty heading towards us. There were shouts and screams coming from the people packed on board. I heard the sound of whips cracking, sobs, and cries from both men and women. So much pain and fear in those sounds.
I wanted to stop this, to help, to set them free. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.
‘Say anything, do anything and we throw you over the side.’ It was one of the armed crew behind me. He’d gathered there with four or five other armed men. ‘Now get down to your comfy cabin and stay there.’
Sam and I were pulled away from the ship’s rail and pushed towards the steps down to our cabin. Behind us the men stood ready, waiting for the small boats to arrive. We didn’t go below and hid behind some sail bags in the steamy grey of that early morning, silently watching.
The wailing, crying, howling groups of black men and women were hauled up on to the boat, their hands tied firmly. The men bringing the slaves to our boat looked to be from the same race or tribe. They were making money by selling their own people.
Even with their hands tied they tried to escape, whips cracked all around. One man tried to fight with his head, butting one of the captors who turned on him and smashed his head with a club. The man slipped and dived over board. He couldn’t swim. He was going to get away even if that meant drowning. They wouldn’t let him.
‘No man, no money,’ shouted our captain.
There was a frantic rush to save him. They were going to save him even if he didn’t want saving. He was too valuable. I wanted to turn away and pretend this wasn’t happening, but Sam and I stood staring with useless frustrated anger. I must have cried out because one of the crew turned, saw me and waved his pistol to make it plain that he wanted me to go below. Sam and I left.
We couldn’t escape the noise of misery. The slaves were loaded into the hold, filling the empty cells. The rumble of the anchor was not loud enough to drown out the wails of our terrible cargo.
Soon I was called on deck to help as we hit the morning tide and the wind, now offshore, blew us away under full sail in a hurry; taking these men and women away from their homes and family.
I hung on in the rigging and I cried. I was part of this. I’d done nothing. I felt the shame of cowardice. I should have helped even if I had died, like the struggling prisoner had tried to do.
This was more than I could take, I slipped, tumbling down the rope. Someone must have grabbed me, slowing my fall. It wasn’t enough and I hit the deck, my head smacking on the planks. But before unconsciousness stopped my awful thoughts one image slid its way into my mind. My grandfather, my black grandfather. I’d failed him.
Coming round on my bunk I saw Sam, worried and looking frightened.
Another voice broke in, ‘With us again,’ said the captain, and not too friendly. He still had the pistol at his side.
‘Hugh said we had to watch you when we took the blacks on board –’
‘Slaves you mean,’ I tried to make it sound like an accusation.
‘Yeah slaves, it’s what we do. Coming to an end soon. We don’t ship any of this lot to the Indies anymore, some bloke made it illegal. It’s a lot further now but a good market.’
‘How can you do it,’ Sam chipped in. ‘They’re people…’
‘Not like you and me,’ interrupted the captain.
I tried to go for him. The fall had weakened me and the captain simply pushed me back down.
‘You’ve got to let them go,’ I moaned.
‘We’re not doing that and neither are you.’ The captain nodded to someone else outside the door.
The crew member pushed into the small cabin and in his hands were manacles and chains.
‘Trouble from you and we chain you up and keep you in here.’ The captain held the manacles. ‘You don’t want that, do you?’
I could see that if I wanted to make trouble I couldn’t do it locked up in the cabin, so I shook my head and so did Sam.
‘Not enough,’ said the captain. ‘I need your word.’
So he made us swear not to cause trouble with the slaves. He gave us a lecture: ‘Let me tell you something. We’re out at sea. If you set them free they can’t swim, they can’t sail the ship and we’ll start shooting.’ He paused to make sure I was listening. ‘Maybe if they all got out they would kill us all and I mean all - that’s you two as well – but they would all die on this ship as it floated off. No one to save them.’
‘And you don’t want to save them, just sell them,’ Sam muttered.
‘I said, that’s what we do.’ There was nothing in the captain’s voice that suggested any feeling of guilt, any remorse, even though we could hear the awful sounds from the captured slaves.
‘What about us?’ I said. ‘You going to sell us too?’
The captain looked as though that could be a good idea, ‘Could do, you’re nearly dark enough to be one of them.’ He poked me. ‘But that’s not the deal I had with Hugh. So we’ll put you off near the Cape.’
I had no idea what that meant, what the Cape was, and he didn’t give me any further details, just saying, ‘You’ve given your word. Any trouble and you know what will happen.’ And he left.
I fell back on the bunk.
‘What do we do?’ Sam asked me the question that had chased me ever since we set out on that school hike. When Jenna had said I had to do the organising because no one else could. I knew all along that Jenna had the ideas and I just made them happen. No Jenna here and I couldn’t see how we would ever meet again. I wasn’t sure I could face her again, having been part of the slave trade.
I didn’t answer Sam and soon we were called back to work. There was an urgency about the journey now. The mast groaned under the power of a full sail. Someone was always in the crow’s nest with the captain often calling to him in case we saw another ship. Sam was even busier. There were more mouths to feed. They had to keep the slaves alive and well so that they got a good price.
Sam was sent down to feed them, along with several armed crew members. Sam could hardly speak about it, he’d come into the cabin, slump into his bunk and turn his head to the wall, trying to hide his tears.
Days later when he did speak he told me about the people. ‘I think they took a whole village, men and women and some of the older kids. Probably left the babies to die.’ He choked but went on: ‘There’s a head man – I think he was the man who tried to escape when they loaded them on to the boat. He’s the boss and organises the food when I take it.’
I could see Sam shaking and I put my hand on his arm.
‘There’s so much hate and anger in his face when I look at him.’ Sam turned to stare into my eyes. ‘We have to do something, have to set them free even if they do kill us as well.’
So we planned. The captain was right. If we managed to unlock the barred cells and set the prisoners free, they had little chance of survival out here. The crew would shoot some of them and any survivors would die at sea. We needed to wait until we were nearer to land.
‘The captain said he would drop us near the Cape,’ I said. ‘Any idea where that is?’
‘I think that’s Sout
h Africa,’ Sam replied. ‘Not sure if it’s called that in these times. Or what they do with slaves.’
‘Well if they’re going to drop us there we have to make sure the prisoners get free at the same time. Anything must be better that being a prisoner on this ship.’
Sam knew where the keys were kept. He was going to try and let the head man know that we were on their side. Our idea was to keep trying to talk to him and to find out when we were nearing the Cape and get down to the cells as we landed. So we waited our time, feeling better that we were going to do something.
It was days later when the lookout shouted down, ‘Land.’ And the captain told us we’d be dropped off in another couple of days.
Sam was doing well communicating with the man who led the slaves. He managed to smuggle in some better food. The other armed crew didn’t seem to care what he did, provided Sam didn’t release them.
‘I think their leader understands,’ Sam told me after they had long conversations in different languages. ‘Don’t expect them to say thank you and goodbye if we unlock the cells.’
I understood what Sam meant. They’d kill us all. It’s what I would have wanted to do. There was no choice, we had to do this.
‘Sail!’
-7-
This new land we were approaching was so different to the jungle where we’d picked up the kidnapped people. Mountains rose in the distance, landscapes opened up, there were occasional buildings that looked like farms, but still the captain kept our ship away from the shore. I wondered where he would drop us off. We saw a few small boats along the coastline, but no harbour big enough to take this boat, no river creeks either.
Strapped to the deck were two rowing boats. I suppose they were sort of life rafts in case we sank. There would only be enough room for the crew, slaves wouldn’t count. I wondered if they planned to drop us at night using one of these boats, probably somewhere deserted. Although they might have simpler ideas.
Tregarthur's Prisoners: Book 3 (The Tregarthur's Series) Page 5