They saw the shore again just as night was falling, but the surf was so high they couldn’t attempt to go in. Will dropped the anchor and used the grapnel to hold the boat faster overnight, hoping that by morning the wind would have dropped enough for them to get ashore.
In the early hours of the morning, as they tried to get some rest, they heard the ominous sound of the anchor being dragged along the rocks, and all at once the boat was drifting out towards the reef.
‘It will be holed and we’ll all drown,’ Will shouted hysterically above the sound of the roaring wind. ‘Oh God, why did I attempt this?’
Mary scrabbled her way to the mast and pulled herself up. She looked down at the cowering, frightened men, and snarled at them. ‘It’s just water, wind and rain,’ she shouted above the wind. ‘We’ve got this far, we’re not going to let it beat us. Don’t turn lily-livered on me now, pull up that anchor and we sail on.’
Dawn came as they battled against the elements, and as the sky lightened so the wind dropped a little.
‘Keep bailing,’ Mary yelled, her voice just a croak. ‘We’ll get ashore, I promise you.’
‘Thank God,’ James murmured a few hours later as they sailed into a bay ringed with white sand. ‘And thank you, Mary, for having the courage to make us battle on.’
Mary smiled weakly. She felt sick with hunger and she was almost frightened to look at Emmanuel and Charlotte under the tarpaulin in case they were dead instead of sleeping. Maybe it was a victory, but right now she felt utterly defeated.
She had no recollection of coming ashore. The last thing she remembered was sailing close to the shoreline and then waking to find herself on soft, warm sand.
She sat up cautiously and looked around her, puzzled because the sun was in the east. She felt her clothes and they were dry, but stiff with salt. Alarmed by the utter silence, she tried to get up, but she was so stiff she could barely move.
As she turned her head she saw the men asleep under the shelter, Charlotte and Emmanuel tucked in between Will and James. There was the remains of a fire with a huge pile of mussel shells close to it, and the water cask was placed under a tree, a deep track in the sand showing how it had been rolled there after being filled.
All at once Mary guessed she must have fallen asleep or even passed out the day before, and the men had let her sleep undisturbed while they found food and water before finally falling asleep themselves.
That little kindness brought tears to her eyes, and gave her the strength to overcome her stiffness, to stand and stretch, then walk slowly over to the water cask. She drank greedily, mug after mug, until her stomach felt bloated, then she gobbled down the cold rice left in the cooking pot. Looking around, she saw it was a beautiful bay they’d come to, white sand, clear blue sea, and lush green vegetation all around.
Her heart seemed to swell up with gratitude, and she dropped to her knees to thank God for their safe deliverance from the storm.
Chapter thirteen
Sam Broome and James Martin stopped in their search for shellfish in the rock pools and sat down wearily.
‘Mary’s a hard task-master,’ James said with a hint of laughter in his voice. ‘But she’s a grand woman for all that.’ His breeches were so ragged now that they were hardly worth wearing, for most of his legs and parts of his buttocks were uncovered. Sam’s shirt and breeches were still in one piece but so threadbare that one more dip in the sea would probably see them float away.
Sam looked back along the beach where they could see Mary hanging washing on some bushes to dry. She’d insisted they were to fill the sack with shellfish or not return to the camp. ‘Aye, but she’s harder on herself than us,’ he replied. He knew Mary wouldn’t rest all day. When the washing was finished she too would be out looking for anything edible to supplement their provisions.
James nodded in agreement. He found it incredible that Mary could be so calm and controlled after what they’d all been through in the last couple of weeks. Just last night he had woken from the most terrifying nightmare, and been too scared to shut his eyes again. Even Will, who had put to sea many times in the foulest weather Cornwall could throw at a fisherman, admitted he’d never known anything like as bad. James believed they had looked into the very face of death that night when the anchor broke away from the sea bed, and it wasn’t surprising most of the men were reluctant to set sail again.
‘We would have all drowned but for Mary,’ Sam stated, his voice shaking with emotion. ‘Her courage and endurance puts us all to shame.’
James knew this was true, but it would make him feel uncomfortable to agree with Sam.
‘Aye, but you were always sweet on her,’ he teased instead. ‘You’d better keep your thoughts about her to yourself, Sam. Will can be a dangerous man when he’s crossed.’
‘My thoughts about Mary are pure,’ Sam protested. ‘But for her I wouldn’t have been alive to come on this escape. I was close to death when they dumped me like a sack of rice on the wharf. I saw other women stealing the clothes of those too weak to protest, they passed me by, not even giving me water because I was in rags. But she came to me, God bless her.’
Sam’s passionate statement pricked James’s conscience. He hadn’t cared enough to help with the sick on the Second Fleet and he remembered he’d hidden himself away with a bottle of rum he’d stolen while helping to load goods in the stores. During the next week or so there was a great deal of talk about how hard Mary had worked with the sick, while he’d even been callous enough to tell her it would be better for all of them if they died.
Looking back further, he could recall his reunion with Will when the men came ashore that first day in Port Jackson. Will had not known that Samuel Bird and James had been sent out on another ship of the fleet, and he was thrilled to meet up with them again. James remembered talking excitedly about sharing a tent with him and other men from the Dunkirk, but Will confounded him by saying he intended to marry Mary and built a hut of his own.
James thought the man had taken leave of his senses. He couldn’t believe Will would choose to live with one woman and her child when he could be with his old mates and have a different woman every night of the week.
Yet James had come to envy Will before long. The women prisoners were in the main a disappointment, either conniving bitches or pathetic wretches, and there wasn’t much fun to be had when a man was constantly hungry.
Mary had proved to be an inspired choice as a wife. She was bright and cheerful, she kept herself and Charlotte clean and decent. And just to look at big Will, who remained fitter and stronger than anyone else, was enough to know she took care of him in every way.
But then, just as he’d been wrong in his initial judgement of Mary, he’d been wrong about Will too.
‘’Tis not a good thing to idolize anyone,’ he said, thinking aloud. ‘Oh, I’m not meaning Mary,’ he said quickly as he saw Sam’s surprised and rather indignant expression. ‘I’m talking of Will.’ He didn’t think he would ever forget how the big man had sat cowering with fear that last night at sea. Or how Mary’d screamed like a banshee to make them all exert themselves. ‘You see, right since I first met him on the Dunkirk, I surely believed he was indestructible.’
‘A man who has to boast about his strength or cleverness isn’t sure of it,’ Sam said with a self-satisfied smirk. ‘And a man who will lay another out just on suspicion he wants his woman is a fool.’
James shrugged. He might be disappointed in his old friend, but he wasn’t about to let some Johnny-comelately slander him. ‘Watch what you say,’ he warned. ‘Will and I go back a long way.’
‘I know,’ Sam said carefully. ‘But you are no fool, James. You know as well as I do we need a strong leader if there is to be any chance of making it to Kupang. I’m not so sure Will is up to that any longer.’
‘Surely you aren’t thinking a woman with two babbies can be that leader?’ James retorted. He admired Mary himself, but it was not in his nature to believe a woman cou
ld be tougher and more resilient than himself or any other man.
Sam chuckled. ‘Of course not. We’d have mutiny on our hands.’
James had often called Sam ‘the Parson’ back in Port Jackson, because of his appearance, mild manners and disapproval of drink. But in the past weeks he’d come to see that the man was strong-willed and resourceful. He had an idea that Sam had some sort of plan of his own, and he thought it best to winkle it out now, so he’d know where he stood.
‘What if Will suggests we stay here till the bad weather’s over?’ he asked tentatively. Will had only hinted at this, and if James were to be totally honest, the idea had some real attractions.
Sam half smiled. To him, this bay they’d christened White Bay was paradise. The soft sand, the lush vegetation and the mild weather were all so seductive. ‘I’d gladly stay if we had more provisions,’ he admitted. ‘I’m no more anxious than anyone else to risk drowning again in a storm. But were we to stay, the flour and rice would run out, and there’s a chance a ship might come by and haul us back to Sydney.’
‘We could fish and hunt,’ James retorted. ‘As for a ship coming by, how likely is that?’
‘Not very,’ Sam agreed. ‘But the whole point of our escape was to find a new life. The longer we put it off, the weaker we’ll all become.’
‘You got that from Mary,’ James scoffed.
‘Maybe, but that doesn’t stop it being true. I think we’ve got to press on.’
‘What if Will doesn’t agree?’ James said.
Sam shrugged. The gesture implied he thought those who wanted to go had a perfect right to take the boat and leave the others stranded.
James got up and began prising mussels off the rocks with a knife. He wasn’t shocked that Sam would cheerfully leave Will here, he’d probably do the same if he could gain something by it. To him loyalty was just a concept men embraced when a mob could have more power than an individual. Mostly James looked after number one and to hell with anyone else.
He was also lazy by nature. He had always taken the easiest path open to him. On the face of it, the easiest one right now appeared to be to stay here. But was it? They wouldn’t be risking their lives, not unless some natives came and attacked them, but they’d need to build real shelters or huts, and they had only a few tools. With only one woman among eight men, they’d soon be fighting one another. Besides, he yearned for city life, for noise and bustle, to be able to get drunk, eat what he chose, ride a horse and charm the ladies.
He remembered how in the first year of the settlement, some misguided fools had run off into the bush thinking if they kept going they would get to China. He had laughed aloud at that, but then he was one of only a handful of men who could read and write, and he had a pretty good grasp of the world’s geography.
He knew from Detmer Smith that from Kupang he could get a boat to China, or Africa, even South Africa. Those were all places where a lazy, cunning Irishman might find an easy life.
William Moreton wanted to press on, if only to prove he was as good a sailor as Will. Mary most certainly did, and Nat Lilly would side with Sam Broome now because they’d formed a strong allegiance. Bill Allen was likely to want to get to Kupang quickly, which left only Jamie Cox and Samuel Bird likely to side with Will.
James knew there was a lot more to be gained by siding with Mary than with Will. A plucky, resourceful little woman like her could be very useful to him when they made it to Kupang.
That same evening the whole party was clustered round the fire, for it had turned cold once darkness fell. William Moreton had brought up the subject of when they should move on. He wanted to leave the very next morning.
‘What’s to be gained by staying here?’ he said forcefully. ‘We’ve had a rest, dried our clothes and mended the boat.’
William irritated everyone. He had no sense of humour, he was pedantic and believed he knew everything. Nat, who had a mischievous streak, often goaded him by asking why, if he was so clever, he’d managed to get himself caught stealing. But he did have some clout with the group because of his navigation skills.
‘I say we stay a while longer,’ Will said stubbornly. ‘The boat can’t take another bad storm.’
All the men had had something to say, but Mary had made no comment so far. She was watching their faces and trying to gauge what each one really wanted. Sam Broome, Jamie Cox and Samuel Bird had almost blank expressions, and she guessed this was because they were weighing up the opinions of the more dominant group members. Then they’d side with whoever they trusted most.
James Martin was liked by everyone. He was good in a crisis, his humour had saved the day many times, he did have leadership qualities, but he wasn’t the most rational of men.
Bill was also a good leader. He would row far longer than anyone else, chop wood quicker, light a fire almost instantly, and was sympathetic to those weaker than himself. But he was no sailor.
A month ago all the men would have gone along blindly with whatever Will decided, but he’d lost his hold over them since they’d seen him afraid and unsure of what to do.
Mary felt saddened that they were turning away from Will. They were all terrified during the storms, which were more than any human being could cope with, and she didn’t think Will should be judged so harshly because he lost his nerve. But for Charlotte and Emmanuel she too would have panicked; the fact that she didn’t was only down to a fierce maternal instinct to protect her children at all costs.
Mary was torn two ways herself. While she desperately wanted to press on to Kupang, to find permanent security, a home for her children and a tranquil life free from anxiety, Charlotte and Emmanuel weren’t too well. The sea voyage, the cold and the constant soaking had taken a lot out of them. They were gaunt-faced, fearful and thin, and food was going straight through them. They really needed more time to recuperate. But Mary’s milk was drying up, the rice they’d brought with them wouldn’t last more than another three weeks, and she didn’t know if a year-old baby’s stomach could cope with a diet of mainly shellfish.
She thought that most of the men shared her conflict, not for the same reasons of course, but because they were scared of running into another bad storm.
‘I agree with William,’ Sam Broome said. ‘We should go on, as fast as possible. There’s nothing to be gained by waiting here till the provisions run out.’
Sam had become popular with the others for his calm practicality and his ability to listen, but since the night Will hit him, he had changed. While still measured, he asserted himself more. Mary sensed he had weighed up the other men and found most of them wanting in some way, especially Will. She didn’t think Sam hated Will, or would like to see William Moreton become their leader. But she guessed he wanted some re-alignment of power, perhaps with himself as second in command.
‘We can hunt and fish here,’ Will argued, his face flushed with anger as no one seemed to be considering him their leader any longer. ‘Didn’t I keep everyone fed back in Sydney?’
The four men who had come on the Second Fleet hadn’t experienced the near-starvation rations prior to their arrival, so Will’s claim meant little to them. Only Jamie Cox and Samuel Bird nodded to confirm this was true.
‘What about you, James?’ Sam asked the Irishman. ‘Go on, or stay?’
James couldn’t bring himself to oppose his old friend openly. ‘I’d like a few jugs of ale and some women,’ he said with a contrived carefree air. ‘And no amount of waiting around here will produce that.’
Some of the men laughed, but Will looked as if James had just stuck a knife in his back.
‘That sounds like you want to go on,’ Sam said, avoiding looking at Will. ‘Anyone else got anything to say?’
Nat Lilly cleared his throat and spat noisily into the sand. ‘We should go on right enough, but go ashore each time the weather turns.’
Jamie Cox kept his eyes down. He was the youngest of them, and he’d told Mary once that he wouldn’t have survived the Dunk
irk without Will’s help. He was slightly built and his sharp features which had reminded Mary of a bird at their first meeting were sharper still now. He clearly didn’t care whether they left or stayed, as long as he was still with Will.
‘Bill, what do you think?’ Sam asked.
‘Go on,’ he growled, glowering at William Moreton as if to warn him not to try to take command.
Samuel Bird still had a blank expression.
‘Mary! Where d’you stand?’ William asked her.
Mary hadn’t expected to be asked and she hesitated, not wanting to oppose her husband. Yet William Moreton had been the most outspoken about the foolishness of taking a woman and her children with them. If he cared what she thought, then she had a duty to voice it.
‘I agree with Nat,’ she said. ‘We should press on, but stop if the weather changes.’
‘So we’re to listen to a bloody woman now, are we?’ Will exploded. ‘What does she know.’
Jamie Cox looked up in astonishment. Bill narrowed his eyes, looking daggers at Will. Sam bristled visibly.
‘I’d say she knows more than all of us,’ James remarked in a languid drawl. ‘But for her we’d be fish food now. But let’s have no more of this. Put it to a vote.’
William Moreton looked at Will, perhaps expecting him to make some kind of speech to regain the loyalty of his former followers. But either Will believed he didn’t need to do that, or he knew the outcome already, for he folded his arms sullenly.
‘All those in favour of going on tomorrow, raise your hand,’ William said.
Only Jamie Cox and Will kept theirs down.
‘Motion carried,’ William said, and smirked with self-importance.
‘Don’t cry to me if the boat don’t make it,’ Will said with a shrug. He then turned to Mary with a look of pure malice. ‘And don’t you blame me, girl, if the babbies die!’
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