“That was a misunderstanding. My name is Jeff Greene.” he assured him.
“Once more,” the Captain bellowed, “Mr. Jeff Greene is to be our honored guest for as long as he wishes to stay aboard the Wandering Wench. Anyone treating him poorly shall answer to me. Am I understood?”
“Understood, Captain!” the men shouted back.
“Good! Mr. Robinson, make ready the evening meal. Our guest is hungry!”
“Aye, Captain!”
Chapter 4: What’s Old Is New
The Captain returned to the cabin and beckoned Jeff to join him at a small table. “Some rum, Mr. Greene?” Coxen offered, picking up a bottle from his desk as he approached the table.
“Actually, I’d like to have some water first, if I may,” Jeff replied.
“The only fresh water we have on board is the rain barrel we use to clean salt off of our weapons, but you don’t want to drink that water, sir. Not unless you want to be blowin’ out of both ends! We do have grog of course, but the rum is much better.”
“Rum it is, then,” Jeff agreed. The Captain handed Jeff a pewter mug and poured him a tall serving.
As the Captain took his seat at the table, he asked, “So Mr. Greene, are you a sailor as was Captain Stivers?”
“No, I’m not in the navy, I’m a blogger for a natural health website.”
“A logger for what?” Captain Coxen asked, perplexed.
“Not a logger, a blogger. A blogger, is, um, well, I write articles for, well, it’s kind of like a newspaper but instead of being printed on paper, it is published on a website that people view on a computer…” The Captain gave Jeff a blank stare. “I’m not explaining this very well am I?”
“No, but please continue and maybe you’ll improve with practice,” Coxen said with a chuckle.
Jeff sighed, “OK, let me think how to explain this. A computer is a machine that has a screen that manipulates light so that images appear on it. In my time, there is something called the internet, which is kind of like a big library that you can search for information using a computer. A website is sort of like a book in that library…”
The Captain held up his hand to interrupt, “I am beginning to understand that I won’t understand. Shall we just say that you are a writer?” “Yes, I think that would be best,” Jeff nodded.
Coxen changed the subject, “Captain Stivers told me some fantastic tales of the ships and weapons of your day. His pistol is remarkable in itself, but he told me of other things beyond belief.”
Jeff nodded, “Yes, and the weapons and ships are even more advanced in my day than they were in Captain Stivers’. The warships in my time could completely destroy this ship with a single shot fired from a distance so far away that you would never see the ship that fired it. There are weapons so powerful that an entire country, or for that matter a continent, could be destroyed in a matter of minutes.”
The Captain frowned, “It seems to me to be ill-advised to have such weapons - too much power to be subject to the whims of men.”
“I have to agree with you on that, Captain,” Jeff said raising his mug, and the Captain clinked his against it.
“Tell me Mr. Greene, how does a writer come to be skilled in the ways of hand to hand combat?”
“Well, I’ve been taking martial arts classes for several years.”
“Classes?”
“Yes, there are schools where people go to learn how to defend themselves. Mostly Asian martial arts.”
“Asian?”
“Yes, fighting techniques from Japan, Korea, China – I guess what you call the Far East now.”
“Aye,” the Captain nodded. “Most impressive. From the look of Harrison, you gave him quite a thrashing.”
“Yes, perhaps I should apologize to him…”
Coxen cut him off, “Absolutely not! It would be seen as weakness. Mr. Greene, in this day, you must never show weakness unless you are using it as a ruse. Any weakness you have will be exploited by others. If you are to survive, you must be a hard man and never shrink from brutality when it is needed. If you must strike a man, strike him. If you must kill a man, kill him. There can be no hesitation!”
“I understand,” Jeff agreed.
“Good, I would hate to see you die before you had a chance to adapt to our time,” replied the Captain.
“So going back to your writing,” the Captain began. “You said you write of health. That is medicine, yes?”
“Yes, in a manner of speaking,” Jeff replied.
“Have you training as a surgeon?”
“Not as a surgeon. I took some pre-med, er, preliminary medicine classes in college and I’ve studied a lot about nutrition and herbal medicine on my own.”
“If you decide to stay with us, you could be our ship’s surgeon. Mr. Graves is our acting surgeon now and I’m afraid his name is apt for his medical prowess,” Coxen said with a sigh.
Jeff shook his head, “I’m not sure I’d be much better and I really hope I won’t be here very long – no offense!”
“None taken,” Coxen replied. “I can understand your desire to return to your own time, but rest assured if you do take on the surgeon’s duties you can’t do any worse than Mr. Graves! Some weeks ago one of the crew came down with the French pox, which requires the number 10 remedy from the medicine chest. Mr. Graves discovered we were out of the number 10, so being the clever ship’s surgeon that he is, he gave the man double the dose of the number 5 remedy. He went to sleep and never awakened. I’d assign one of the other men, but none of my crew is likely to be any better, except for Mr. Robinson perhaps and he has his hands full running the galley. You might not make the finest ship’s surgeon, but I feel certain you would make a competent one.”
“I’ll think about it,” Jeff said.
“Splendid!” the Captain said as he picked up the rum bottle to refill their mugs.
The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the cabin door as Mr. Robinson delivered the evening meal. After setting the plates on the table, Mr. Robinson asked, “Do you require anything else, Captain?”
“No, thank you Mr. Robinson, that will be all for now.” Robinson turned to leave and the Captain leaned over and swatted him on the butt before the crewman departed with a smile. The Captain laughed at the puzzled look on Jeff’s face. “Is there a problem with your supper, Mr. Greene,” Coxen asked with a grin.
“No, the food looks fine, I uh just, uh… never mind.”
“Would it alleviate your confusion to learn that Mr. Robinson is a wench?”
“A wench? You mean a woman?”
“Yes. Please keep that knowledge to yourself. As far as I know none of the crew has figured it out.”
“I will not say a word, but how did she…”
“Hers is a sad story. She told me that she had been married to a good man and that they had both been afflicted with the fever, to which he eventually succumbed, but she recovered. As is common, her husband’s brother then wed her. Unfortunately, he was a foul-tempered man, nothing like his brother. She had been left barren by the fever and when she failed to bear him a son, he became even more foul-tempered and beat her daily. She had run away to a nearby town - where I first met her. She feared being discovered by her husband and she asked to join my crew as a means of escaping him for good. I certainly did not want a woman aboard, but she convinced me that she could disguise herself and I agreed to allow her to try. It was a good decision. She is quite a good cook, as you will see – at least as good as she can be with the ingredients we have available. To my surprise she has also turned out to be a capable crewman. When she first joined us, she could barely lift a sword, but now she is as good a swordsman as any other on my crew, with the exception of Mr. Harrison.”
“I would never have guessed that was a woman!” Jeff said, shaking his head.
“As per our agreement, she has continued to disguise herself to avoid issues with the rest of the crew, but undisguised, she is not lacking in womanly charms.�
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“I take it from your familiarity with her that you’ve availed yourself of those charms?” Jeff asked.
“Oh no, don’t misunderstand, Mr. Greene. While I will not say I have not been tempted, ‘tis bad for business to consort with a woman onboard your ship. As they say, hell hath no fury as a woman scorned and the last thing I need is for her to become jealous of some other wench and slit my throat in my sleep. I do take some small liberties as you have seen, but it goes no further than that.”
“You’re a wise man, Captain.”
“Thank you, Mr. Greene, and I would advise you to avoid becoming too familiar with Mr. Robinson yourself.”
“Agreed,” Jeff said with a nod.
The two men turned to the plates in front of them. It was a simple meal of fish stew and hunks of a cracker-like bread, but the Captain was right about Robinson being a good cook. Jeff and the Captain ate hungrily with few words between them until they had finished the meal. “More rum, Mr. Greene?” the Captain said, holding up the bottle.
“No thank you, Captain. My head is spinning already!”
The Captain laughed, “You’ll need to build up your tolerance if you are going to stay aboard this ship, sir!”
“I’ll have to work on that,” Jeff replied with a smile.
“If you won’t have any more rum, then perhaps you would enjoy a pipe with me?”
“No thanks, Captain, I don’t smoke,” Jeff said.
“Don’t smoke, eh?” the Captain said, raising an eyebrow. “Why on earth not?”
“There are health hazards from smoking…” Jeff began, but was interrupted by the Captain.
“Mr. Greene, if you are going to try to blend in during your stay in my time, I strongly recommend that you learn the joys of a good pipe. You would do well to at least give the appearance of enjoying a pipe, as it is very much our custom and in certain company it might very well be a health hazard to refuse a smoke.”
“Well, OK, I guess I can at least practice faking it then,” Jeff nodded.
“Very good,” Coxen smiled as he walked over to his desk and pulled out a wooden box. He pulled two pipes from the box and a small pouch of tobacco from his coat. The Captain filled the pipe bowls and walked back over to the table, handing one pipe to Jeff before lighting a splint of wood in the lantern that hung on the wall above the table.
The Captain demonstrated lighting his own pipe before handing the burning splint to Jeff. Attempting to mimic Coxen’s pipe-lighting method, Jeff inhaled through the pipe as he touched the flame inside the bowl of the pipe. As he sucked in the smoke, his throat burned and he began coughing violently. The Captain quickly reached over and took the pipe and splint from Jeff’s hands as Jeff struggled to breathe. Coxen sat back in his chair and blew out the splint as he laughed to himself. After a few moments, Jeff caught his breath. “Now… I see… why you enjoy smoking… so much!” Jeff said, choking through the words.
“Your pipe, Mr. Greene,” the Captain said, holding it over the table.
“Thanks, I think,” Jeff said, grasping the pipe and raising the mouthpiece slowly to his mouth.
“Just hold the smoke in your mouth,” the Captain suggested.
Jeff slowly sucked in, being careful not to bring the smoke in too far. He coughed slightly as he blew the smoke out. “Do I really need to do this?” he asked.
Coxen nodded, “There are some who would take it as the highest insult if you refused to smoke with them. It’s best that you can at least do it in those situations that require it.” Jeff continued to carefully suck in and blow out the smoke. After a time, he was able to do it without coughing and without even thinking too carefully about the mechanics of it. Coxen had taken notice, “So now that you may survive the experience, how do you like the pipe?”
“The pipe is great – truly a beautiful piece,” he said admiring the detailing on what appeared to be carved ivory. “I still think smoking is disgusting, but the pipe is cool!”
“Cool?” the Captain asked, “Has the flame gone out?”
“No, cool is an expression meaning that something is nice or interesting.”
“A strange expression,” the Captain said, shaking his head.
As the waning traces of tobacco burned up in Jeff’s pipe, he turned to the Captain, “If you’ll excuse me, Captain, would you direct me to the…”
“To the what?” Coxen inquired.
“I was going to ask you where the restroom was, but I realized that there isn’t one.”
“Restroom? You mean your sleeping berth?”
“No, a restroom is a place where one goes to relieve himself.”
“Relieve himself of what?”
Jeff shook his head, “Where you go to pee and crap.”
“You mean piss and shit, the words pee and crap are for children and wenches!” the Captain corrected.
“Yes, well, anyway, where might I go to piss and shit?” “The bucket is to your starboard just outside the door,” the Captain directed.
Jeff stood up and nearly fell flat on his face as he was still very much feeling the effects of the rum. His head was spinning as he staggered toward the cabin door. The cool breeze of the night air on his face helped him regain his senses somewhat. It was now dark outside and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light provided by the moon overhead. At the far end of the deck, several members of the crew were sitting in a circle smoking and playing what appeared to be some sort of dice game. Jeff spotted a wooden bucket tied to a rope near the rail. He walked over and picked it up. Judging from the smell that emanated from it, he was thankful that it was dark enough that he couldn’t really see what the inside of it looked like. This was no doubt the right bucket. Still wobbly, he decided to lean his back against the wall for support. He pushed down the front of his trunks and peed into the bucket and then approached the rail to dump it. After upending the bucket, he lowered it by the rope to collect some seawater and rinse it out. He nearly followed the bucket over the side, but was able to steady himself on the rail. As he set the bucket back where he found it, he started to think about the procedure for when he needed to do more than urinate, but quickly dismissed those thoughts as something to be dealt with when the time came.
As he stumbled back into the cabin, the Captain was just re-loading his pipe for another smoke. “Mr. Greene, I trust you found the bucket.”
“I did, sir.” Jeff nodded.
“Speaking of the ‘restroom’ as you called it, I was considering your sleeping arrangements,” the Captain began, “We have some empty berths in the crew’s quarters, or we could clear a more private area for you in the storage hold.”
“Don’t go to any trouble for me, Captain. The crew’s quarters will be fine.”
“Very well. In addition, if you are to accompany me to Port Royal tomorrow, you shall need some other clothing. We can’t have you cavorting around town in those strange skivvies of yours, now can we?”
“No sir, I suppose not.”
“You are a slender man, so my clothes will be too large. Let me see, most of the slender men are much shorter than you. By my eye, Robinson though a wench, is actually the closest in stature.” The Captain walked to the door and stepped onto the deck. “Robinson?!” Coxen called out to the crew on deck.
“’E’s in the galley, sir,” one of the crew answered.
“Well then fetch him for me!” the Captain yelled as he stepped back inside the cabin.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. “Enter,” the Captain boomed.
Robinson stepped through the door and asked, “You called for me Captain?”
“Yes, Mr. Robinson. Mr. Greene here is in need of some clothing and you are the closest match for him in stature. Would you be so good to lend him some clothes until we find something suitable for him in Port Royal tomorrow? Oh, and show him to an empty bunk for him to sleep in while you’re there.”
“Certainly, Captain. If you would follow me, Mr. Greene,”
she said on her way toward the door. Jeff rose from the table, slightly more steady than he had been earlier and followed Robinson out of the cabin. “Right this way, Mr. Greene,” Robinson said as she led him across the deck and down a set of stairs into a room with several bunks along the walls. Robinson turned up the flame on the lantern on the wall before walking over to a wooden box at the foot of one of the bunks. She opened the box and quickly selected some items. “These should do,” she said handing a set of clothes to Jeff. “Go ahead and try them on.”
Jeff slid off his shirt and started to slide off his swim trunks when he noticed Robinson looking at him with a slight smile and a gleam in her eye. Even though she looked every bit as manly as any of the other crew members, Jeff was a bit hesitant to get naked in front of her.
“Go on then,” she prodded.
“Um, do you mind turning around?” Jeff asked.
“What for?” Robinson replied with a grin, “Just us mates, here,” she said with a wink.
“But…” Jeff began to protest, but Robinson had other ideas.
“Let me help you,” she said with a laugh as she shoved him down on an adjoining bunk. As Jeff struggled to get his balance and stand up, Robinson reached down and yanked his trunks to his ankles. “That’s better!” she said as she stood back to admire the view, but she quickly frowned. “It looks a bit odd. Not like the others I’ve seen.” she said.
Jeff wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed or concerned by Robinson’s remarks. “What do you mean, odd?!” he exclaimed, momentarily distracted from his exposure.
“It’s just more… bulbous at the end,” she remarked as she stared at it intently.
Jeff realized that she probably had never seen a circumcised man before. “Yeah, in my time most men are circumcised – the foreskin is removed soon after birth.”
“Why?” Robinson asked, perplexed.
Jeff shrugged, “I don’t really understand it myself. Some cultures do it for religious reasons, and there’s supposed to be health benefits, but all I know is that I didn’t have any choice in the matter.”
Still staring at it, Robinson’s expression changed, “Now that I’m getting used to it, I rather like it.” To his embarrassment, Jeff felt his manhood starting to swell in response to Robinson’s stare. “Well, I must say I like it even better now!” she exclaimed. “But I’m being unfair. I think some tit for tat is in order,” she said as she raised her shirt and what looked like a thick bandage wrapped around her chest to reveal a set of small, but very nicely-shaped breasts. By now, Jeff was at full-mast and was blushing furiously. Robinson laughed at his embarrassment as she quickly re-adjusted her clothing and said, “Now, you should get dressed. The Captain is expecting you, but you and I will share a dance very soon, Mr. Greene.”
Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1) Page 3