Tommy burst out laughing and asked, “Did you just say ‘poop’ deck?”
Then Liberty started laughing. “It’s funny when you say it like that! Poop deck. Poop deck.”
I rolled my eyes and waited until the two of them stopped laughing. “Are you finished? Honestly, you’re acting like a couple of five-year-olds.”
“Um, actually,” Liberty tried to say, “I am five.”
Then they both started laughing again. In fact, watching them laugh made me start to laugh.
“For the record,” I said, smiling, “the ‘poop’ deck is the deck above the captain’s cabin, built in the rear or stern of the ship. I believe the name originates from the French word for stern, la poupe.”
More laughter. Tommy and Liberty were leaning on each other now, laughing hysterically, and saying in their best French accent, “La poupe, la poupe.”
“Liberty,” I said, “I think you better disappear and hide yourself in the capstan room. I think someone is approaching.” Instantly, Liberty vanished as we heard a familiar voice say, “I’m glad to see someone can laugh under the circumstances. Who goes there and why all the frivolity?”
As the voice got closer we saw Myles Standish, his sword still hanging from his side. His clothes were haggard and he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days or weeks or even a couple of months. However, despite his appearance he was smiling.
“Hi, Captain Standish,” said Tommy, standing up straight.
“Oh, hello, Tommy. Hello, Rush. I was thinking about you just the other day. I’d meant to come find you but with all my duties I’m afraid I’ve not been very attentive. I must say it’s good to see you in such fine spirits. Hearing you laugh put a smile on my face. I can’t remember the last time I smiled. Thank you for that,” said Myles.
“It appears our laughter may be contagious,” I said.
“Let’s hope it spreads quickly. Our people are beginning to doubt. Elder Brewster is encouraging as many as he can. He reminds us to pray day and night. But so many are sick. We are nearly out of water, and we have little food. We’ve had much contention and despair among the passengers and crew. Thankfully, the cruelest of them is no longer with us.”
“Did someone die?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, lad. We’ve kept it quiet because we didn’t want to worry the rest of you below deck. Many days ago one of the sailors, a vile, profane, and arrogant man, was stricken with disease and died in a wretched way.”
A thought occurred to me and I asked, “I remember one sailor with a scar above his cheek. He was heartless about our seasickness and threatened to feed all the Puritans to the sharks. Was it him?”
Myles nodded. “The very one,” he said. “That sailor mocked our suffering and cursed our people endlessly. He swore and hoped to cast half of us overboard before we came to our journey’s end. Yet he himself was the first to be thrown overboard. The word has spread that it was the just hand of God who did it.”
Tommy raised his hand as if he were in the classroom and asked, “Captain Standish, what happens when people get sick on the Mayflower? Is there a doctor’s office on the boat?”
“No, Tommy, not really,” said Myles. “We have people who care for the sick but there isn’t much that can be done when the illness is severe.”
“Do you ever feel like you want to give up and go back to Holland?” asked Tommy.
“No, son,” Myles said, firmly. “Abandoning this voyage is out of the question, at least for me. We must go on despite the hardships. If we give up now, we will never know what land is ahead. If we turn this vessel around, we will be back to a place where we cannot really be free.”
“Do you think the king would put all of you in jail?”
“Perhaps,” said Myles, “even if we made it back to Holland without anyone knowing, we couldn’t go to our own church. The Church of England would tell us how we must act and how we must think.”
Tommy’s brow was furrowed as he thought about what Myles had said. “Yeah, I don’t like when people try to control me. My mom always tells me to think for myself and not just follow the crowd. She says I should stand up for what I believe even if it’s not popular.”
“It sounds like you have a very smart mother,” said Myles.
“Yeah, and she’s also really strict about me doing my chores around the house. You’d probably really like her.”
Myles laughed and said, “You are an incredibly bright boy, Tommy. I’m glad you are here. You fit in perfectly with our mission.
“Come, Rush Revere and Tommy,” he said. “Let me take you to Captain Jones and William. He’s navigating the ship from the poop deck.”
I gave Tommy “the look.”
Both of Tommy’s hands went into the air. “Hey, the joke’s over for me. That was so 1620,” he said, winking.
As we walked to visit with Captain Jones and William, Tommy said, “Captain Standish, I never really got a chance to thank you for, you know, the way you caught me. I mean, you were lightning fast. And then how you lifted me up by my leg. You were like the Hulk. Anyway, thanks for saving my life.”
Mayflower in rough seas, 1620.
Myles stopped and looked at Tommy. He finally said, “Tommy, I don’t know if I’m any stronger or faster than any other man. But if I’ve learned anything while living among the Puritans it’s that everything happens for a reason. Simply, you weren’t supposed to fall off this ship. It wasn’t your time.”
Boy, is that the truth, I thought.
Myles continued: “I’m glad I was standing next to you when you fell overboard. I’m glad I could save you. But my part in helping you is over and yours has just begun. Think of it as a second chance. What will you do with your life now that you couldn’t have done if I hadn’t caught you?”
“Wow, that’s deep. But I get it,” said Tommy.
“Good,” said Myles. “Go do something great with your life, Tommy. We’ll talk more soon. And your first sword lesson begins when we get to dry ground! A man is always better off when he knows how to protect himself and his family!” Myles turned to leave, but then stopped with a quizzical look and asked, “Did you say I was like the Hulk? Who or what is the Hulk?”
Tommy paused for just a second and replied, “Oh, well, he’s just this guy back home. Sort of a hero. He’s really strong and pretty much invincible.”
“Thank you for the compliment. I think I would like to meet this Hulk someday,” Myles said, smiling. He then turned on his heel and headed for the ladder.
When Captain Jones and William Bradford saw us, William said, “Rush Revere! Please forgive my neglect. It’s good to see you. I assume you’ve been surviving with the others below deck? I know I shouldn’t assume but with so many passengers suffering from seasickness, including my wife, I’ve found myself unable to visit everyone I’d like.”
“No worries,” I said. “Tommy and I are definitely surviving and feeling very optimistic today!”
I noticed Captain Jones held a three-foot-long stick on which was attached a sliding crosspiece. I assumed it was sort of a compass. That’s when Tommy asked, “What’s that in your hand?”
“It’s a cross-staff,” said Captain Jones. “It helps me know where to steer the ship. I place it up to my eye and measure the distance between a star, the moon, or the sun and the horizon. It helps me calculate the ship’s position. But with all the bad weather it’s been difficult to know for sure how far we are from land.”
Curious, I asked, “And where are we supposed to be by now?”
“By now I expected us to be at the Jamestown Settlement on the Hudson River.” At that point in history, the Jamestown settlement extended all the way up the mid-Atlantic coast to what is now New York. “But with all the storms it looks like we have traveled much farther north than I expected,” said the Captain.
Tommy whispered to me, “Too bad they didn’t have a GPS.”
William added, “By Captain Jones’s calculations we should spot land in a day or so.
”
“Look,” said Tommy, pointing up into the morning sky. “Isn’t that a seagull? And there’s another! I’m pretty sure those seagulls are coastal birds.”
In the moment Tommy finished speaking we heard a sailor shout from above, “Land, ho!”
Passengers started streaming out from the hatches that led to the tween deck. Many were lifted and helped up the ladder, too sick or weary to walk on their own. Their expressions were mixed between hope and doubt as if they couldn’t believe their ears. The bow of the ship pointed westward as all eyes raced to see what they hadn’t seen for more than two months. Land! Sure enough, a distant strip of land could be seen on the horizon. As soon as the Pilgrims on the upper deck saw the outline of dry ground, they fell to their knees and began to weep. Others shouted for joy and almost everyone found someone to hug. Elder Brewster called the Saints together, and even some of the Strangers came, and together they offered a word a prayer. They knelt to give thanks to God for persevering and protecting them. After they prayed, they sang a hymn. Some were too emotional to sing as they watched the approaching land and simply cried tears of relief. Even the sick and weary looked to have renewed health and strength.
I noticed William had a giant smile on his face and what looked to be a tear in his eye. He said, “We left Plymouth, England, on September sixth and today is . . .”
“November ninth,” Tommy finished. “You’ve been sailing straight for sixty-five days!”
“Very good, Tommy,” said Captain Jones. “And many of the passengers have been seasick for all sixty-five days.”
William breathed deeply and nearly laughed when he said, “They are not sick now. They are exceedingly happy and grateful that God has preserved us over this vast and furious ocean.”
“And it looks like a beautiful day,” I said. “Soon we’ll be on dry ground.”
“Yes,” the Captain agreed, “but remember, we are far north of our original destination. We were supposed to land at the Hudson River. Instead, it appears we are headed toward New England—Cape Cod, to be exact.”
“It is needful that we find our way to the coast as fast as possible,” said William. “Our provisions are low and many passengers are sick and even diseased.”
“We sail by the wind,” said Captain Jones. “Right now, the wind is coming from the north. We’ll sail to the coast and follow the coastline swiftly to the Hudson River.”
They all agreed and soon a colony of seagulls flew overhead, welcoming the Mayflower as it drifted out of deep blue waters and into emerald green. Passengers crowded the starboard side of the ship and watched with keen interest at the thick forest of trees and bushes with orange and yellow leaves that grew beyond the empty beaches.
I watched these remarkable passengers, amazed at how genuinely tough they were. The kind of hardship they experienced on the Mayflower is something that modern-day people will seldom, if ever, experience. And yet these Pilgrims did it with gusto! They hadn’t been spoiled by wall-to-wall carpets, central heating, and microwave ovens. They lived and endured hard things because that is just how it was. And so they passed the first test. The next would be the building of a new colony. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was sure that these rugged individuals would, again, find a way to overcome any trial.
Myles Standish walked up to us and asked, “What catches your eye out there, Tommy?” Tommy gripped the railing as he stared at the passing wilderness. “Oh, well, I was just wondering what might be in those woods,” he said, sounding a little bit nervous.
Myles answered, “All the things that will sustain us. Wood, berries, animals, water, and soil.”
“And Indians?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, probably Indians,” Myles said. “We will do what we must to protect ourselves. We have swords and muskets and cannons if need be.”
“That’s good to know,” said Tommy.
“Hopefully, we won’t have to use them,” said William.
As I looked ahead along the coast I wondered if Captain Jones had ever sailed these waters. Surely, every coastline is different and there’s always a chance of hidden dangers.
Suddenly, a sailor yelled from above, “Shoals ahead! Turn port side!”
“Aren’t shoals like a sandbank or sandbar out in the open water?” Tommy asked.
“Yes,” I said to Tommy softly. “And if I’m not mistaken this place is called Pollock Rip—it’s a ship’s graveyard. If the captain doesn’t avoid the shoals the Mayflower could get pinned or even shipwrecked. A direct hit could smash the ship’s hull.”
Waves crashed against the shoals as water swirled up and over the threatening sandbars. The wind died down to almost nothing but the Mayflower drifted dangerously closer to the roaring breakers.
“We are in great danger!” said Captain Jones with urgency. His eyes were fixed on the shoals ahead. “A southern wind would be especially helpful right now!”
Calmly, William said, “We’ve not come this far to shipwreck now. What must we do?”
“Watch for shoals,” said Captain Jones. “And keep your people away from my sailors so they can do their jobs.”
“With God all things are possible,” said Elder Brewster from behind me.
I turned and asked, “Do you have any counsel, any advice?”
“Pray,” he said, smiling. “God will make up the difference. He created the heavens and the earth. Surely, He can steer a ship to safety.”
Remarkably, the wind began to blow, a southern wind! The sails shifted and the Mayflower turned just in time, missing the shoals by only a few feet.
“I’m afraid we won’t be landing at the Hudson River. This coastline is too dangerous,” said Captain Jones. “Now that the wind has changed directions our best chance is to sail north, back around Cape Cod to New England.”
William gave a worried look at Myles, who said, “The Strangers will not like it.”
William looked deep in thought and said, “Yes, the Strangers will insist we land at the Hudson.”
“Then they can jump off my ship and swim if they want to,” said Captain Jones. “I will go and explain to them the situation. I will not have a mutiny on my ship.”
“Captain Standish and I will go with you,” said William. “Rush and Tommy, you’re welcome to come but please don’t feel like you have to.”
I eagerly replied, “We’re right behind you. If there’s anything you need, just ask.”
“Thank you, Rush Revere, for all the support you’ve given.”
We climbed down from the poop deck to the quarterdeck and then climbed down again to the upper deck. Several passengers climbed up from the tween deck. Liberty was waiting for us on the upper deck.
As Myles predicted, the Strangers were in an uproar when they heard the news. Shouts could be heard from above and below deck. It sounded like a mob. Children were crying and even the giant mastiff was barking at everyone and everything.
Hourglass used to tell time on the voyage.
Compass dial with lid used to navigate during the day.
Compass and sundial made of silver, ivory, brass, and glass used to tell time during the day.
A nocturnal, an instrument that uses the stars to tell the time at night.
Portable telescope used to view at a distance.
A jack screw similar to this raised houses in Plymouth and saved the Mayflower from sinking.
“Please,” pleaded William, trying to calm both Stranger and Saint. “I’m sure we can work this out. We’ve shared the same boat for sixty-five days. We’ve had our differences but we’ve come to know each other. We’ve both suffered and survived together. We’ve shared our provisions and our stories and our dreams knowing that we, all of us, would be a new colony.”
Captain Jones added, “I’ve seen firsthand how Saint and Stranger have worked together for the good of all. When we were mid-ocean and that monstrous wave cracked one of the ship’s core beams, I witnessed how you rallied to find a solution. In desperation, you coll
ectively used a screw jack to help my carpenter repair the fractured beam.”
One of the Strangers stepped forward and raised his hands to speak.
“Who is that?” Tommy asked. “Is he a Stranger or a Saint?”
Myles leaned over to us and whispered, “That’s Stephen Hopkins, a Stranger. His wife gave birth to a baby boy during our voyage. They named him Oceanus.”
Tommy raised his eyebrows and whispered back, “Oceanus?”
Myles shrugged his shoulders and smirked.
“It’s an odd name, for sure,” I said, “But when the other kids ask him about it he can always say, ‘It’s because I was born aboard the Mayflower.’ ”
“Yeah,” Tommy agreed, “not many people can say that.”
Stephen Hopkins spoke boldly: “We agreed to help and use the screw jack because we all had a common goal. We all agreed to settle at the Hudson River. And now we’re headed in the opposite direction.” He pointed at William Bradford, Myles Standish, Elder Brewster, and the other Puritan members and shouted, “Land where you want, but when we come ashore we’ll use our own liberty, for none have the power to command us!”
“Did he just say they’ll use their own horse named Liberty?” whispered Liberty. “What are the odds that there are two horses with the same name on the same ship?”
“They weren’t referring to a different horse, they said—”
Liberty interrupted: “Well, if they think they’re going to use me they better think again. I’m not another man’s property. I mean, I used to be but that was in the eighteenth century and just because we’re in the seventeenth century doesn’t mean I’m going to give up my twenty-first-century freedoms.”
Liberty’s mouth was so close to my face that his whiskers tickled my ear. I whispered back, “Nobody is going to use you. They might as well try to tame a thousand wild horses with nothing but a whistle.”
Rush Revere and the Brave Pilgrims: Time-Travel Adventures with Exceptional Americans Page 7