by Dilly Court
Mirabel laughed outright. ‘Compared to America it’s very small, but this is pure coincidence. Bodger is Gertie’s brother.’
‘That is a coincidence indeed.’ Ethan glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to sort out the details while I have my dinner.’
‘Of course,’ Mirabel said quickly. ‘And thank you for going to so much trouble on our behalf.’
He inclined his head, smiling. ‘No trouble, I assure you.’
Bodger watched him walk away, standing awkwardly like a child caught out in a naughty deed.
‘So how do you come to be in Newport News?’ Mirabel asked, breaking the ensuing silence.
‘I seem to have a habit of missing my ship,’ Bodger confessed, hanging his head.
Hubert put his paper down. ‘And now you’re mate. That’s a big leap, isn’t it?’
‘I know what you’re thinking, guv.’ Bodger’s face flushed beneath his weathered tan. ‘But I can do the job all right. I been at sea man and boy and there ain’t much I don’t know about ship handling.’
‘Well good luck to you, that’s all I can say.’ Mirabel sent a warning look to her husband. How Bodger managed to convince an American sea captain that he was capable of acting as mate was no one’s business but his own, and there were more important things to discuss. ‘Where is your ship bound, Bodger?’
‘Charleston, ma’am.’
‘Is that far from where we hope to go, Hubert?’
‘A little less than half way I should think, my dear.’ Hubert focused his attention on Bodger. ‘When does your ship set sail?’
‘On the morning tide, sir.’
‘Then we’ll be ready.’ Hubert’s eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. ‘Tell your captain that he has three passengers bound for Charleston. We should, with luck, be able to find another ship that will take us the rest of the way to Florida.’
‘Just one thing, sir.’ Bodger shifted from one foot to the other. ‘It ain’t no liner. It’s a working ship, not meant for taking passengers in comfort. Cap’n Butler is only doing this as a favour to Mr Munroe.’
‘And I’m very much obliged to the captain.’ Hubert headed for the door. ‘I’m going to get a good night’s sleep and I suggest you do the same, Mirabel.’
She had not seen him so filled with enthusiasm since they left Liverpool and she turned to Bodger with a grateful smile. ‘Thank you, Bodger. You don’t know how much this means to me.’
‘Glad to be of service, ma’am.’
‘You’ll want to see Gertie, of course.’
‘She’s here? I was hoping it was me sister who come with you.’
‘She was in the dining room chatting to a lady when I last saw her. Wait here and I’ll see if I can find her.’
Bodger glanced down at his salt-encrusted trousers and shabby shoes. ‘I’d best wait in the lobby, ma’am. I ain’t exactly dressed for polite company.’
‘I’ll send her to you. She’ll be so happy to see you.’
Next morning in a pearly dawn Mirabel, Hubert and Gertie boarded the two-masted gaff-rigged schooner, its green and pale pink paintwork making it stand out amongst the other Chesapeake Bay workboats. Captain Butler greeted them with a cursory nod and a curt welcome before returning to the business of weighing anchor and setting sail. It was a shock to realise that this was indeed a working vessel and there were only three cabins; one for the captain and the mate, another for the crew and one that all three of them must share for the duration of the voyage. Mirabel laid her hand on Hubert’s arm. ‘Are you sure about this? I mean, we could perhaps wait for a more suitable ship. This isn’t going to be comfortable and you know how ill you were on the Servia.’
He patted her hand. ‘It’s a small inconvenience, my dear. I think we will face even more hardships when we eventually get to Florida. From what I’ve read about the Fakahatchee swamp it’s primeval to say the least, but I’m prepared to suffer almost anything to achieve my dream of finding ghost orchids in their native habitat. I just hope I’m not exposing you to too much danger.’
She staggered sideways, lurching against him as the schooner’s sails filled and they entered the choppier waters of Hampton Roads. ‘We’ve come this far, Hubert. I’m not one for giving up.’
‘Bodger will look after us,’ Gertie said stoutly. ‘He’s the mate, just as he should be. I’m proud of him.’
Mirabel righted herself, moving away quickly from physical contact with her husband. ‘I’m sure you are. Let’s hope he manages to stay on board until we get to our destination.’
Bodger proved himself to be an excellent seaman during their four day journey, but when they landed in Charleston he announced that he intended to leave the ship and accompany them to Florida. ‘I ain’t going to let my little sister go to that godforsaken place without me to protect her,’ he said stubbornly.
Mirabel did not challenge his decision. Hubert had survived the voyage largely due to the fact that the winds had been fair and the seas slight, but he looked tired and she worried about his health. It would, she reasoned, be useful to have a man to help them with their luggage and to assist Hubert should he fall ill again, but they were now a party of four and that meant more expenditure. She knew that her husband had paid Captain Butler a considerable sum for the privilege of being transported swiftly, even with little or no creature comforts, but Hubert was close-lipped when it came to discussing their finances.
Ashore in Charleston they found another small hotel and Hubert booked four rooms at, Mirabel suspected, considerable expense. He did not seem unduly worried and immediately retired to his room to rest. Mirabel and Gertie were left to explore the town while Bodger made it his business to find them berths on a ship that would take them on the last lap of their journey to Florida. He was gone a long time and Mirabel was beginning to think that something had happened to him, but Gertie remained calmly confident in her brother’s ability to take care of himself.
He returned late that evening, wearing a silly grin on his face and reeking of rum. ‘I’ve found a steamship bound for Havana and stopping off at Key West,’ he said proudly.
‘Where is Key West?’ Mirabel asked suspiciously. It did not sound like any of the ports on Hubert’s neatly written itinerary.
‘At the tip of Florida, so I was told.’ Bodger hiccuped and covered his mouth with his hand. ‘Begging your pardon, ladies.’
‘Bodger Tinker, you’re drunk,’ Gertie snapped angrily. ‘Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?’
His pained expression might have made Mirabel laugh if she had not suddenly been seized with doubts. What if this whole venture was a wild goose chase? She met Bodger’s tipsy smile with a withering look. ‘You’d better sleep it off. We’ll talk again in the morning.’
Bodger shook his head, wagging his finger at her. ‘Too late then, missis. Ship’s sailing in two hours’ time. Best hurry if you want to be on it.’
‘But we don’t even know if there are berths for the four of us,’ Mirabel protested.
Gertie slapped her brother on the arm. ‘Sober up and tell us what you’ve arranged, if anything.’
‘Go down to the quay,’ Bodger said, pulling himself together with a visible effort. ‘I’ll get the boss up and ready to go.’ He tottered off towards the stairs, his rolling gait exaggerated by his drunken state.
‘Do you believe him?’ Mirabel asked anxiously.
‘I dunno, Mabel.’ Gertie scratched her head. ‘But can we afford to lose this chance? It might be our last for days, if not weeks.’
‘You’re right. After all, it’s not far to the docks, and if it should prove to be a wild goose chase we can still return here and get a good night’s sleep.’ Mirabel sighed. ‘I was so looking forward to lying in a proper bed.’
The Angelina was a tramp steamer of reasonable proportions and Bodger, despite his inebriated state, had managed to secure their passage as far as Key West where, he said, they might pick up another ship w
hich was headed around the cape. Hubert was not himself. He had no better suggestion to offer, appearing dazed and still half asleep as they boarded the vessel, which by moonlight looked large and impressive, emanating power as smoke belched out of its twin funnels. The smell of burning coal and hot engine oil was oddly comforting as Mirabel stood on the throbbing deck. It was obviously a working boat and as unlike the Servia as the pungy, but she felt at last that they might be nearing their destination.
The crew were getting ready to cast off and Hubert was as white as one of his ghost lilies. He looked frail and unsteady on his feet, but he managed a brave smile as a seaman led them below deck to their cabins, and he raised no objection to sharing with Bodger. Mirabel and Gertie were also to share, and they set about making themselves as comfortable as was possible in a small space with narrow wooden bunk beds and a single chair. ‘It’s not exactly the state room on the Servia,’ Mirabel said cheerfully. ‘But it will have to do.’
Gertie plumped up the pillow on her bunk and examined the sheets in the light of a paraffin lamp. ‘I don’t think these were washed after the last person slept in them,’ she said crossly.
‘I don’t care,’ Mirabel sighed. ‘I’m so tired I could sleep on a bed of nails.’
The Angelina, as Hubert wryly remarked next morning, was a little rusty. In daylight Mirabel could see its flaws, and certainly cleanliness was not one of its redeeming features, but the captain and crew were hearty and cheerful enough, with one or two notable exceptions. One seaman in particular seemed to have taken a dislike to Bodger, who threatened to punch his lights out and caused quite a stir in the dining saloon. Hubert stepped in and smoothed things over, but Mirabel could see that both men were going to harbour grudges for the rest of the voyage. It did not bode well.
There was little to keep them occupied on board. Hubert spent most of his time in his cabin, a victim once again of seasickness as the steamer ploughed through the waves regardless of the weather. Gertie spent most of her time cleaning their cabin and she even managed to obtain clean sheets. Mirabel did not enquire how she procured them, but she was grateful all the same. She herself spent most of her waking hours on deck, leaning on the ship’s rail, watching the sea in all its moods from silky turquoise calm to angry dark waters that roiled and slapped at the ship’s hull and threw spray into her face. This was the world that Jack had loved and the ocean that had claimed his life. She still harboured a glimmer of hope that he had somehow survived, but it was fading fast.
They were in limbo for the whole of the journey, with brief and tantalising glimpses of the distant coastline. Mirabel hoped that they would make landfall soon, although when she asked the captain how long it would take to get to Key West he was evasive, shrugging his shoulders as if to say that it was in the hands of the gods of wind and weather.
It seemed that the fair spell they had enjoyed on the pungy was over, and on the fifth night at sea the foghorn wailed like a soul in torment. It was obvious to Mirabel that the crew were on edge as the Angelina moved slowly over the inky water, cutting into the thick fog like a knife through butter with visibility almost nil. Wrapped in her cloak against the cold and damp, Mirabel went up on deck, but was told in no uncertain terms to return to her cabin and remain there. Frustrated and restless, she went to check on Hubert and found him sleeping, exhausted after several days of sickness, and shockingly gaunt; she was beginning to wonder if he would survive another long journey. Closing the cabin door softly she went to look for Bodger and found him in the saloon with Gertie. She took a seat at their table. ‘Does this sort of weather occur regularly on this coast?’
‘Only at this time of year as far as I know, missis. It will clear by dawn, that’s if we don’t run aground on one of them little islands along the coast.’
‘Ta, love,’ Gertie said with a sarcastic smile. ‘You know how to make a girl feel better.’
‘I’m only speaking the truth. The sea bed must be littered with wrecks.’
‘I wish I hadn’t asked,’ Mirabel said, sighing. ‘It’s going to be a long night.’
‘Aye, missis. It’s a good thing the guv is sleeping.’
She nodded. ‘It is, but I’m worried about him. He was so determined to make this journey but it’s not doing him any good. Is there any chance that we could do the rest of the trip overland?’
‘I dunno, missis. I’ve done this run many times in the past but we was on the way to Havana, so we never put in to port along this part of the coast.’
‘And when you do go ashore you spend all your time in pubs and bars or bawdy houses,’ Gertie said, wagging her finger at him. ‘You’ve jumped ship so many times I’m surprised that anyone takes you on.’
Bodger’s reply was lost as the vessel lurched and bucked like a wild stallion, followed by the terrible grinding sound. They were thrown off their seats, landing on the deck in a tangled heap of arms and legs. Stunned by the fall and winded, Mirabel lay there gasping for breath until Bodger pulled her to her feet. He bent down and picked up his sister, dumping her unceremoniously on the nearest chair. ‘Stay here,’ he commanded. ‘I’m going to find out how bad it is.’
Mirabel bent double, trying to regulate her breathing. ‘Must go to Hubert,’ she gasped.
‘Let me.’ Gertie jumped to her feet. ‘I ain’t hurt. I’ll go.’
She had left the saloon before Mirabel had a chance to stop her. She sat down heavily, holding her bruised ribs until at last she could breathe easily. Rising shakily to her feet she realised that the deck was sloping at a strange angle and the furniture which was not screwed down was sliding towards the starboard bulkhead. With a supreme effort she managed to reach the door and staggered along the companionway towards their accommodation. Bodger appeared in the doorway of Hubert’s cabin. ‘I got the guv back onto his bunk. I don’t think he’s broken any bones but he’s a bit shaken.’
Mirabel pushed past him. ‘Find out what’s happened, Bodger. I’ll stay with my husband.’
Gertie emerged from their cabin next door. ‘We’re going to die. I know it.’
Bodger grunted and lurched off towards the stairs which led up to the deck. Mirabel glanced at Hubert’s inert body. ‘Don’t panic, Gertie. We don’t know how bad it is.’ She went to sit on the edge of Hubert’s bunk, noting with a sigh of relief that his eyes were open and focused. ‘Are you hurt?’
He shook his head. ‘I was asleep and then suddenly I was on the floor in a tangle of bedding. It must have saved me from injury.’ He reached out to hold her hand. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear. I brought you to this because of my insane desire to find a ghost orchid. Can you ever forgive me?’
She squeezed his fingers, biting back tears. ‘Don’t talk like that, Hubert. You’ve given me everything and I was as eager as you for this adventure. We’re in it together no matter what happens.’
‘You’re a brave woman, and you deserve a better husband than I.’
‘Stop it,’ she said firmly. ‘We’re not finished yet. Bodger has gone up on deck to find out exactly what’s happened. You mustn’t give up. I won’t let you.’
Even as she spoke Bodger burst into the cabin. ‘We struck a reef and we’re aground.’
Gertie flew at him, pummelling him with her small fists. ‘What does that mean? Are we going to drown?’
Bodger caught both her hands in his big fists. ‘Not unless you jump overboard. Cap’n says it’s safer to wait until the fog lifts so that we know exactly where we are. We ain’t sinking yet.’
‘Yet?’ Gertie sank down to her knees, covering her face with her hands. ‘We’re doomed.’
‘Nonsense,’ Mirabel said sharply. ‘The captain knows what he’s doing. If we’re not in imminent danger of sinking it seems more sensible to wait for daylight.’
Hubert patted her hand. ‘Bravely said, my dear.’ He turned his head to look up at Bodger. ‘Look after your sister. I’m all right here. My wife will take care of me.’
Mirabel nodded to Bodger. ‘Do as h
e says, but come and tell me if there’s the slightest chance we have to abandon ship.’ She leaned back against the bulkhead, holding Hubert’s hand until his grip slackened and he slept. She closed her eyes.
Someone was shaking her by the shoulder. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up into Gertie’s pale face. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘It’s getting light, Mabel. Bodger says we’re stuck on the reef in sight of the Fowey Rocks lighthouse. We’re to be taken to shore in the jolly boat, but you must come now.’
‘Pack a few things in one of the smallest valises,’ Mirabel said, instantly alert. Rising to her feet, she stretched her cramped limbs. ‘Where’s Bodger? We’ll need him to carry my husband.’
Hubert raised himself on his elbow. ‘I’m not a cripple, Mirabel. I walked on this vessel and I’ll walk off it.’
The sun was struggling through the fog, which hung a thin mist over the mainland, hiding its face like a bride’s veil. The Angelina sloped at a precarious angle, part of her hull impaled on a submerged reef. The crew were prepared to launch the jolly boat with a seaman ready to man the oars and another to help the passengers into the small craft, but Hubert refused to climb in until the captain promised to ensure the safety of their luggage, although it was obvious that this was the lowest in his list of priorities. ‘I hope to refloat the old girl at high tide,’ Captain Butler said ruefully. ‘The carpenter will try to patch up the hull so that we can continue to Havana for a more thorough repair.’
‘But I must have the rest of our luggage,’ Hubert insisted. ‘This is a very important scientific venture, sir. I cannot continue without my equipment.’
‘I fully understand your problem, Mr Kettle. But I have a cargo to deliver and a considerable sum of money to lose if I cannot do so.’
‘Then we understand each other, Captain. I will pay extra if necessary, although if you leave us in this wild place you will not have fulfilled your part of our agreement, which was to take us to Key West.’
Polite and professional to the last, the captain agreed to send their baggage ashore as soon possible, and he assisted Hubert into the boat. ‘You’ll land at a small settlement called Coconut Grove. I could take you to Havana if we can refloat my vessel, but I wouldn’t want to risk making landfall at Key West.’