Time Travel Adventures of the 1800 Club Book VIII

by Robert P McAuley

  At ten sharp the ship’s whistle sounded and many of the passengers were startled, . . . as well as Bill. He watched as seamen tossed the thick ropes that held the vessel to the wharf and the ship’s crew hauled them aboard. Thick white smoke came from the stack as the engines throbbed and the waters at the ship’s stern frothed white with foam as the single screw kicked up the water. A single tugboat stood nearby in case she needed help. The Delphi pulled slowly away from the wharf amid shouts and waves from the well-wishers onshore and their friends and relatives aboard the departing ship.

  Once away from the wharf, the ship turned as she gave a short blast of thanks on her whistle to the un-needed tug and went down the Hudson River. As they came abreast of the downtown area, Bill removed his hat. I know they’re not built yet, he mused, but here’s my moment of silence for the Twin Towers and the victims of 9-11.

  A short time later they passed the spot where the Statue Of Liberty would be placed. Boy! thought Bill as he looked at the soon-to-be world famous piece of reality, This truly is history in the making.

  The ship picked up speed as a young crew member dressed in white and black rang a note on a musical triangle to get the passenger’s attention as he announced: “Beverages served in the main saloon at eleven o’clock.” He moved on, stopped periodically and repeated his message. Most passengers went to their rooms including Bill.

  The main saloon easily handled the two hundred plus passengers who occupied the seventy-two cabins, plus the one hundred and fifty from below deck. The waiters made sure all had the drink of their choice as once again the seaman with the chime stuck his triangle and got everyone’s attention. From a door behind him stepped a tall, well-built man dressed in a white, naval-type uniform. He had shoulder length gray and black hair that matched his well-trimmed beard and mustache. He was deeply tanned and wore a big smile that complimented his steel gray eyes.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Captain Land, and welcome aboard. I’ll give you a brief overview about our ship, and then we shall have lunch. Meanwhile, please enjoy a cocktail or another type of beverage. Now, although the stated time of arrival in England is fifteen days, we are at the mercy of the elements and might arrive a day or two later, but, this is normal. As you know the Delphi is a steamship with sails. That means we use steam to power her when the winds are low and once on the open sea and able to catch a good wind, we shift to our sails, as economy is the word. You may check the bulletin board for daily updates as to our progress. Now,” he said as he rubbed his hands together, “shall we take our drinks and stroll the deck while the crew sets up lunch?” He led the way and as the large room emptied it was quickly replaced by a group of crew members that set up tables and chairs for lunch.

  Bill joined the group as Captain Land did a slow walk-around the ship and pointed out places of interest as the ship sailed down the Lower New York Bay heading toward the Atlantic Ocean.

  After just one complete walk-around, the young man with the triangle appeared again and, following his chime, announced that lunch was ready to be served.

  The room they just left was completely redone with tables and chairs, white linen tablecloths, china, glassware and silver cutlery. Spotting an empty seat at a table adjacent to a large rectangular window, Bill approached the already-seated passengers.

  “Expecting another person?” he asked.

  A tall man stood, smiled and with a slight bow and an English accent said, “I do believe sir, that, with your arrival, our group is now complete. Therefore, kindly join us.”

  Bill sat and introductions were done all around. He found himself with nine British travelers who had completed a four-week tour of the states. They chatted as lunch was served and Bill found himself famished as the smells of fresh food wafted through the room.

  He read the menu. Pea soup, sliced tomatoes on a bed of lettuce, cold, sliced ham with a choice of brown or white bread, mustard or horse radish, three different types of cheeses, followed by tea, coffee and biscuits. He mentally patted his stomach as he thought, All fresh. No opening of cans or defrosting here.

  When lunch was over, cigars were lit up at most of the tables. Bill grinned inside as he lit one himself. No rules against smoking here, he thought as he inhaled on one of the Cuban cigars Matt had supplied him. The movement of the ship and the open portholes easily cleared the room of smoke.

  After a bit, the passengers drifted away and Bill went back to his cabin. He read for an hour then changed into a pair of sweat-type pants and shirt, donned his canvas deck shoes and went to the ship’s gym. An overweight young man gave him a towel and explained how the equipment was used. He also pointed to a silver tray loaded with sandwiches. Bill didn’t understand the meaning of the food but listened respectfully as he checked out the, to him, antiquated rowing machine. He sat on the sliding seat as another passenger entered and the instructor went to brief him. Bill started rowing slowly and after fifteen minutes was pleased to be breaking a sweat. He intensified his workout, as he slowly checked the gym out. Looking around he was shocked to see the other passenger rowing away on one of the other rowing machines as he ate a large sandwich. Every time he pulled back on the oars he swallowed, and on the forward stroke he took another bite, and chewed like a man possessed as he dabbed at his sweaty forehead. Bill mentally shook his head at the sight and not too long after, he went to the small steam room and relaxed before washing and going back to his cabin. He put out his evening clothes and read some more before his alarm sounded on his pocket watch. The time traveler dressed and finished just as the crewman’s triangle chimed and they were reminded that dinner would be served at seven sharp.

  He strolled the deck and enjoyed the fresh air and the sway of the Delphi as she cut through the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, accompanied by the throb of her engines.

  The ever-present crew member with the triangle once again walked the ship announcing dinner was ready to be served.

  A hungry Bill joined the British group, which he would do at each meal for the entire trip, and later, as he was lying in bed, reflected on them.

  This is the worst thing about time travel, he thought as he kicked off his blanket and sat on the edge of the bed, poured a glass of Brandy and lit a cigar. These people, who have now become friends of mine, have all passed into history. They’re gone, and yet, here I am, sitting, eating and joking with them, . . . he downed the shot and shook his head. It just doesn’t seem right.

  He then recalled Prescott Stevens, the former president of The 1800 Club, as he briefed Bill on the pros and cons of time travel. Bill, he said in a low voice as he looked off into the night while they walked the streets of New York in the 1860s, you are going to meet many people in your travels who will become your friends. And then you will suddenly realize that they have passed away years before you were even born. It’s then that you will become melancholy and feel that you shouldn’t be there at all. You will think that somehow you are trespassing in their world, . . . because it’s you who are alive and not they. This is only natural, but remember this: it is you who are in their world. It is you who are just visiting their world and they are alive and breathing just as you are. They are going to live their lives whether you are there or not, so just enjoy the short visit into their world and complete your mission. Simply let your club training take over.

  He smiled as he remembered the advice the past president had given him, finished his drink, put out his cigar and blew out the oil lamp. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the overstuffed pillow.

  Bill used the trip as a vacation and truly enjoyed his cruise. After breakfast each day he used the gym and as there were no showers in the cabins, he took the opportunity of using their shower. Captain Land had used the sails on the three occasions that the winds were strong enough to propel her along almost as fast as if she was using her engine, and the trip took the advertised fifteen days.

  The ship docked in Liverpool, England at 4 pm, and Bill made his good-byes with th
e many new friends he made. He knew that, in three days time, he would board the Delphi again for his trip back to New York, and the year 2013.

  Finally, the ship tied up, the gangway was put out and the passengers started to depart. Bill was one of the first to step onto the Liverpool wharf and seeing the damp, glistening cobblestones, stepped gingerly. He noted that hundreds of seagulls circled above the many ships docked there and fishermen sat around mending their nets, spinning yarns and generally just watching ships come and go.

  Wow, if not for the English accents, this is the same as the docks I just left in the States. Well, he reasoned, if you love the sea and ships, this is the spot to be, and it’s not like they can just rent a maritime video or watch a History Channel special about ships on their TV sets. The time traveler hefted his valises and walked over to a thin, gray haired, woman, selling fish.

  “Wot’ll it be, sir? We gots Cod an’ Flat fish, an’ they makes good cookin,’ an’ yer wife don’t need ta’ clean ‘em, I did it all, meself.”

  Bill shook his head and placed a coin in her hand. “Could you, please tell me the best way to get to the Sea View Hotel and Eatery, mum?”

  She quickly pocketed the coin and said with a smile that showed more than one missing tooth, “Yessir, yer grace.” She pointed with a boney finger behind him, “If’n ya go by way of the wharf, an’ya gets to a place called Shelly’s Sail Shop, ya went ta far, an’ ya got ta go back and make a turn at Fleecy Avenue. Ya go up Fleecy fer two blocks an’ yer be right in front o’ the place. Mind ya don’t hand out no more coins as the beggars along the way’ll never let ya outta their sight. An’ mind ya don’t eat the fish the Sea View tries ta put on yer plate, ‘cause it’s three days ago I selled them to the place meself and since they ain’t been back down at the docks lookin’ fer more, ya gotta think they be servin’ the same fish wot I selled them meself. ‘n thank ya fer yer openhandeness, gov’nor.”

  Bill tipped his hat and turned to follow her instructions. He had to smile at her helpfulness. Well, no fish for me the next few days.

  He entered the hotel and was happily surprised to see a clean, efficiently run lobby with plush seating all around the spacious room. He was given a well-appointed room on the second floor, away from the noise of the street with a hot water system, bath and flush toilet. The first thing the time traveler did was to take a hot bath. He then changed and went down to the main lobby for dinner. Scanning the menu, Bill was happy to see no fish dish on it. The main dish, after a salad of tomatoes and cucumbers, was Scounse or Blind Scounse and as the waiter poured him a red wine as ordered, he saw an opportunity to ask: “Would you be so kind as to tell me what goes into the making of Blind Scouse?”

  “Yes sir. It’s a local dish consisting of potatoes, red cabbage, onions and a thick sauce.”

  “So, it’s sort of a stew?”

  “Yessir, if you wish to call it a stew. It’s a local dish and goes quite well fighting off the dampness of the Liverpool wharfs.”

  “Well, then,” asked Bill as he pointed to the menu again, “what’s the difference between Blind Scounse and just plain Scounse?”

  “Blind Scounce, sir, is Scounse without Mutton and Scounse is with Mutton.”

  With a grin Bill ordered the meal with Mutton.

  After dinner and the obligatory cup of tea, he strolled the streets of Liverpool and stopped in a Pub, The Greenhouse Cafe. He ordered a pint of dark beer and as he was about to take a pull on the frothy drink, a man stopped by his table.

  “Mister Scott. I see you are still in Liverpool.” It was Captain Land of the Delphi.

  Bill rose and extended his hand. He had eaten at the Captain’s table once during the trip and was pleasantly surprised to know that the captain remembered his name. “Please, Captain Land, join me.”

  “Well, thank you, I will. It’s been a long day and I’ll be working most of the night so I felt I deserved a break to try some of the local food and drink.” He sat and a man wearing a white apron came over to the table.

  “Cap’n Land, sir. Good ta’ see ya agin.’ Will ya be in port fer long?”

  “No,” answered Land as he shook hands with the man. “I’ll be shipping out in three days. Just long enough to restock and gather up some new passengers.”

  “Same as usual, Cap’n?”

  “Yes, thank you Jim.”

  The captain turned to Bill as the man went to the bar. “Jim Kelly. He owns the place and loves when we come to town and bring passengers who usually want to see a typical English Public House. Now, tell me Mister Scott, where are you bound?”

  “Please, call me Bill, captain.”

  “Fine Bill, and I am Ned.”

  The owner returned and placed a tall, hard cider in front of the captain along with a menu and then left the two men alone.

  “Cheers, Ned,” said Bill as he raised his glass.

  “Cheers, Bill,” came the response as both men clicked glasses and took a swig of their drinks.

  “Ahh, that’s nice and refreshing,” said Bill as he wiped his lips. “Now, as to where I’m bound, actually Ned, I’m going to return to New York aboard the Delphi when you leave in three days.”

  The captain did a small double take. “Well, sir, that’s a long way to go for a three day visit.”

  “Just wanted a cruise of sorts and yours seemed perfect.”

  “And, pray tell, was it?”

  “It was just what the doctor ordered, Ned. It was perfect. And tomorrow I’m going to do some local sight-seeing and relax.”

  A seaman entered the Pub and made his way to his captain. He stopped a short distance away and held his hat in his hand.

  “Well,” said Ned, “I can see my break is over. I told my First Officer where I’d be in case he needed me and here he is.” He finished his drink and stood as he offered his hand. “Bill, when you come aboard, I insist that you come up to my cabin for a sip. Anyone who takes a return trip on my ship deserves some good wine. Good with you, Bill?”

  “Better than good, Ned, great. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  Bill sat and finished his drink, ordered another, paid his bill and left a nice tip. He then made his way back to the Sea View. Sleep came easily.

  The next few days Bill toured Liverpool just like any other tourist. He went to the Town Hall that had been built in 1754 and ate and drank in inns and pubs that had been around even longer. He also noticed that almost everyone ate some type of Scounse in the inns. Because he had read the Frommer’s Guide To Liverpool before he time-traveled, he went to the house that Doctor William Duncan was born in. Bill remembered reading: Doctor Duncan became the First Medical Officer of Health and started many programs to help the poor of Liverpool.

  He went to a second-hand clothing store and bought what could be called ‘leisure clothes of the day,’ and sat with sailors as they spun yarns and carved beautiful pieces of art out of wood and ivory. One sailor who quickly became his favorite was Jack Spikel, an old man with a face full of gray whiskers and a patch over his left eye. Bill watched him turn a piece of wood he bought him into a mermaid as he spoke of the sea and the latest news of the docks.

  “Will ya be sailen’ soon, master Bill?” he asked as he whittled away.

  “Tomorrow, Jack. I’m off to America. Have you been there?”

  The old man gave a toothless smile as he shook his head, yes. “Aye, that I did. ‘An’ back then twas a good time to be sailin.’ I was a young ‘un then and full ‘o vinegar.” He sat back and looked up at the sky. “Them were good times, sir. Dang good times they were.” He suddenly looked Bill in the eye and in a low voice said, “Not now though. Bad times await the seaman wot goes out these days, sir. Bad times, indeed.”

  “Why? What’s so bad about sailing now?”

  Jack looked around again before he answered, still in a low voice, “The monsters o’ the ocean, sir. That’s wots so bad ‘bout sailin’ these times.”

  “What monsters of the ocean?”

 
Once again Jack looked around, then tilted his head so he looked Bill directly in his eyes. “Mind you, sir, I never seen the monster meself, but I know somes wot seen it, ‘n even one wot had his ship sunk right out beneath him. Clung on ta a piece o’ spar ‘til he was picked up. Says a monster with two big yeller eyes struck his ship jus’ ‘fore midnight. All hands was lost, ‘cept himself. Some folk say he be tetched in the head, but I know him fer more ‘n thirty-six years, ‘n I know he seen the monster. In half a year, five ships didn’t come back ta port. Jus’ disappeared they did. ‘Taint natural.”

  “Oh, well,” said Bill as he shook his head at the old man’s tale, “nothing I can do about that, my ship still sails at eleven tomorrow morning and I have to be aboard her.” He patted the man on his back and watched him as he finished the wooden mermaid.

  “Take her, sir,” the old seaman said offering Bill the carving. “She might bring ya luck.”

  Bill inspected the carving, openly admiring the man’s work. He smiled as he put it in his pocket and took out five pounds and pressed it into his hand.

  Jack shook his head, “No, sir, I mean fer ya ta have it fer luck.”

  “And I was lucky enough to make your acquaintance, Jack. I’ll take her back to America with me, but I insist that you take this small amount in exchange for her.”

  The old man looked at the note and said, “Sir, do ya know wot ya gimme? It be a fiver an’ a fiver taint no small amount.”

  “Then use it well, my friend and rest assured that, in two weeks, my mermaid will be resting on my mantelpiece.” He stood and offered his hand. They shook and Bill went back to the hotel.

  At 6 am the next morning, Bill was woken up by his pocket watch alarm. He washed and shaved then picked out a dark blue suit with a matching vest. He buttoned a starched, white collar around his neck and tied a wide, deep-red, silk tie around it, securing it in place with a black onyx stickpin. The time traveler took his newly shined, black shoes from under the bed and buttoned them up. Finally, Bill placed a black derby on his head, stuck a red carnation in his lapel and went over to the floor-length mirror.