A New Island

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by Nick Niels Sanders




  A New Island

  Volume 2 of the Book Series

  Born in the Sea

  By Nick Niels Sanders

  Published by Exotica Indica

  Publication as of April 2021

  21

  September 21

  There was a pounding on the door of the stateroom. From the depths of a dream, Ron Haskell awoke to a repetition of the pounding and the loud words: “Breakfast time.”

  Struggling to pull himself and his level of awareness together, Ron turned to Jim and gently shook him. “Time to get up”

  Jim groaned, but moved, eyes opening slowly, propping himself up on an elbow as Ron climbed out of bed and into clothes. Ron disappeared into the head, splashing noises issuing therefrom; Jim crawled from the bed and followed Ron’s example.

  A few minutes later, they were both on the main deck, seated at a small table with breakfast before each of them – a glass of juice, a mixture of passion fruit, guava and freshly squeezed orange juices; a plate of pancakes and sausage; a smaller plate with one egg Benedict; and a cup of strong black coffee. Salt, pepper, butter and syrup were on the table. A sip or two of the juice and some coffee were helping a lot. Just as Jim was attacking his pancakes, the ship’s diesel engines roared to life. A series of gentle jerks ensued as the ship backed off of its resting place on the sand of the beach. Slowly, the ship turned, motoring slowly away from the small island on which they had beached the previous afternoon. The engines gradually increased in volume as the ship gained speed through the water, until it was skimming along the surface at what seemed a great rate of speed.

  The two young men finished their breakfast in silence, as did the other passengers who appeared while they were still on deck. After a look around assured them there was nothing but water to be seen in any direction other than looking back to the volcanic mountains they had left the evening before, they went back to their stateroom to settle in for some more sleep.

  That sentiment seemed to be the majority vote among the passengers. Though only four passengers missed breakfast completely, they all seemed to feel that it was much too early to be up, especially if it was only to watch water go by. The morning passed sedately, some staying in their staterooms, stirring only when lunch was announced, others gradually reappearing, with books, to read on the main deck.

  Ralph and Jeanne explored the ship, standing for some time on the observation deck, watching out for land ahead and pretending to be mariners of olden times – Abel Tasman, English discoverer of Tasmania, for example. Joe found them there and invited them to visit the bridge, which they did. Later, they disappeared back into their stateroom, where the announcement of lunch found them again in bed, recovering from recent activity.

  James and Maria passed some time reading in their stateroom, then went up to the main deck and read some more there. After breakfast in shorts and light shirts, they had recognized that the wind of the ship’s motion across the water was actually chilly, so they were both dressed in sweat suits. Thus armed against the wind, they went forward to the observation deck, occupying it shortly after Ralph and Jeanne had moved upstairs to the bridge. They watched several low islands slip by to port during a short span of time, the little clump of islands receding behind them as the ship continued moving across the placid water. They were back on the main deck, still in sweats, when lunch was announced.

  Lunch

  “Today,” announced Joe to Paul, Marybeth, James, Maria, Mark and Julia, who were obediently seated at the table in response to the presence of their place markers there, “we are having an informal lunch. We will deliver chips, salsa, cheese dip and avocado dip to your table, there will also be a buffet laid out for you to make your own sandwiches and salad. Ice cream will follow later. Please enjoy your lunch.” He moved on to convey the same message to each of the other tables. The promised chips and dips arrived almost as soon as he turned away Paul and Marybeth looked questioningly at the four Americans for an explanation, since they were scantly acquainted with Mexican fare in their home areas. James explained how the salsa, cheese dip and avocado dip went with the chips. He gave example by putting some of each on his plate and beginning to eat. The bowls were passed around, Paul and Marybeth gamely trying everything, Julia carefully arranging the condiments in separate sections of her plate and using spoon and chip to get them into her mouth, so as to leave as little mess on the plate as possible. Mark and Maria ate, commenting on the quality of each of the three dips but without showing any particular preference. Paul decided he liked the spiciness of the salsa and added some to his guacamole. Marybeth decided she did not like the spiciness of the salsa and did not eat any after a first tiny taste. Conversation was kept to a minimum by the crunching of the chips and people rising to visit the buffet.

  There were still introductions to be made at the various tables. The passengers were beginning to understand that the seating arrangements were designed to be sure each passenger dined with every other passenger as soon as possible without splitting up couples. The general consensus was that this was a really nice idea, though there were a few who wished they could just pick a few favorite companions and stick with them for the whole ten days. The Joneses were in this latter category, for different reasons: Jeff having found sports fans from the States with whom he could share an interest; Marilyn not having yet found anyone she wanted to spend ten days with, had found a few she did notwant to eat with. The Kershaws were also in this category, for the same reason as Marilyn.

  For Jayne Applebee, the trial of sitting with two young women who were traveling together was greatly relieved by sitting also with the Fullers and by finding out that Valerie was an heiress of some magnitude. Somehow, for her, money made up for the social indiscretion of two such young women being out together traveling. At this table the Fullers filled the role of helping the others to understand Mexican food.

  The Kirkpatricks were amused by being seated at the same meal with two male homosexuals and a newlywed heterosexual couple – but such was their sense of their noble role that the follies of one couple were as lovingly accepted as the follies of the other. To their credit, they found all four to be interesting individuals, each in his or her own right. At this table, because none of the occupants was an American and none was a devotee of Mexican food, everyone was looking around to see what others were doing with the food.

  Finding themselves seated with the silent Pinkersons and the all-to-pushy Kershaws, the Howlands were struggling to find value in the Pinkersons while struggling not to be overwhelmed by the Kershaws. At this table, they were the most knowledgeable about Mexican food and offered some commentary about what they particularly liked.

  Susan Thorpe, seated with the Joneses, was overwhelmed both with the sheer bulk of Jeff and with the knowledge that he had earned his riches by playing a game; she was much happier to talk with the Taylors about their experience in business. No one paid any attention to Marcella. Jeff and Marilyn ate heartily of the chips and the various dips, Marilyn to the extent that she never did have any sandwich or salad.

  The chips and dips were generally declared to be delicious, even by those closest to Mexican cooking. Some diners, most notably the ones from California, chose to add sliced pickled jalapenos from the salad bar, most did not. The sandwich bar was rich with variety, not only in breads and meats and cheeses, but also with condiments. There were fresh vegetables in profusion for creation of unique salad combinations.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” the resounding voice of Captain Wilkie attracted attention, quickly quelling conversation and garnering attention. “This afternoon we will be stopping at a small uninhabited atoll. It is a member of a ring of small, sandy islands which are all that is left of an ancient v
olcano. The island we are visiting is the largest of the group; the remaining ones are small spits of sand spread around a circle about a kilometer and a half in diameter. We are coming up on the outside of the circle. On the inside, the water is shallow and with a generally sandy bottom, on the outside, the bottom drops away rapidly and shelves of coral are to be seen. You are welcome to go exploring, though there is little island to explore, as you will see. You may wish to swim on the shallow water side of the island or snorkel on the deep water side. Or just lie on the sand and soak up the sunshine.

  “The weather promises to be good, so we will be dining on shore – and we have a bit of a barbecue planned for you. As last evening, the bell will sound at 1700 to indicate cocktail hour, which will be here on the main deck until 1800. Then cocktails will cease and the next bell will announce supper ashore at 1900.”

  Afternoon

  After lunch, James and Maria settled themselves comfortably at a small table on the aft deck, took out books and began to read.

  “Good afternoon,” came the modulated, clearly British voice of a man. “Beg pardon for interrupting, but may we join you?”

  Looking up, James rose: “Certainly Lord Kirkpatrick. James Fredericks. My wife Maria. Won’t you have a seat?”

  “Thank you, sir. Allow me to complete the formalities. I am Lord Richard Kirkpatrick, my wife Mary, Lady Richard Kirkpatrick.” They took the other two chairs at the table. “I’ve overheard your conversations on several occasions and appreciate your use of the language. I suspect there are only three truly educated men on board – you, the Professor, and me. I’d appreciate the opportunity to get to know you.”

  “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the compliment. I confess I have never met a member of the British nobility before, so you have sparked significant curiosity in me as well. Perhaps we can have mutually satisfying conversations.”

  “Yes. Well, then, James Fredericks, tell me something of yourself, if you will.”

  “Certainly Sir, but I’ve an issue I need resolved before we can proceed. I’m completely unclear about mode of address. What do I call you? Lord Kirkpatrick, Lord Richard, my Lord? Sir? Something else?”

  Lord Richard laughed. “I am the younger son of the late Duke of Grayson, Henry Kirkpatrick the fourth. My older brother is the current Duke of Grayson, Henry Kirkpatrick the fifth. The lands, the wealth and the title are all subject to primogeniture; younger sons have the honor of the signifier “Lord” and, generally, poverty. Formally, my name is ‘Lord Richard Kirkpatrick,’ as you have heard me state it; however, the shorter form is properly ‘Lord Richard,’ or ‘my Lord,’ but not ‘Lord Kirkpatrick.’ If our friendship prospers, it is socially correct that I may invite you to drop the ‘Lord’ stuff and just call me ‘Richard,’ but long habit renders me hesitant to do that on first acquaintance.”

  “I understand, Lord Richard. Among Americans, as you probably well understand, the transition to first name is usually made no later than just after an introduction – and we frequently leave the surname off even at introductions.”

  “Your sensitivity to my preferences is remarkable, and serves to reinforce my judgment of you. Most British subjects are accustomed to dealing at some level with the peerage and have a set way of doing so that disregards the desires of the individual peer as much as your countrymen’s insistence on instant familiarity. One of your countrymen has already addressed me as ‘Dick’ – a name I find truly offensive.”

  “I apologize on behalf of my entire country. The presence of a hereditary elite in Britain is an anomaly in western civilization at this time, but one that I think other countries could copy with profit. In the United States we tend to create our own elite out of movie stars and athletes – people frequently ill-equipped to be setting any sort of example for the rest of us to follow. At least in Britain, you have a class of people who are raised to set the example of rectitude, piety and generosity in society – or perhaps you don’t but you could have. The existence of such a class would lend an entirely different complexion to social life and social expectations. Every child would have public figures to look to for an example of how to behave. What amazing possibilities that would create for society. Instead, we have a bunch of people who have too rapidly and with too little work become much wealthier than they are capable of dealing with – and they lead lives of dissipation and desperation that cannot be a good example to anyone.”

  “Well, sir, I don’t think the British peerage works as you have suggested, but I agree that it would be a good thing if it did. As I observe the system, it seems to me that it is mostly the younger brothers and the sisters who care about setting an example and living lives that might be the kind of example you are talking about. The older brothers, who stand to inherit, frequently seem as overwhelmed by their prospects and the responsibility as your athletes and movie stars. But tell me more of yourself.”

  “First, my Lord, let me explain my name as you have explained yours. I am Doctor James Fredericks. The title of ‘doctor’ is earned, and reflects, in my case, that I am a physician. Please call me James, which I prefer to ‘Jim’ and please don’t call me ‘sir.’”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “In much of my country, ‘sir’ is an honorific reserved for the aged and it makes me wonder if I am not suddenly 30 years older than I feel.”

  “Ah. I understand.”

  “I am from the west coast, the least formal part of the United States. I was born and raised within a few miles of downtown San Francisco and attended university and medical school in San Francisco and three more years of training in northern California before setting up my practice in Oregon. I don’t know, actually, that I am any better educated than several of the other passengers, Jim Hawthorne and Ron Haskell both have liberal arts degrees and seem to be well educated, for instance.”

  “Well, Doctor, uh James, you use the language with a facility, a vocabulary, a care to diction that must reflect a love for it – the kind of love that comes from the enjoyment of good books and good poetry. I appreciate that. Unlike me, you have to earn a living, so that appreciation is won at a higher price.”

  “But, Lord Richard, I thought you indicated that as a younger son, you were born to poverty. You seem to be able to afford to travel and take a cruise, and if you do not have to earn a living, that suggests some financial strength.”

  Lord Richard laughed again – this was a more challenging conversation than any he had yet had since boarding the Fiji Queen. “Yes, James. When I was young, I fell in love with a young woman with a very wealthy father. I am not sure, at this point in my life, whether I was interested in her father’s money and fooled myself into thinking I loved her, or if I would have been willing to marry for love and see what I could do about earning a living. It really doesn’t matter at this time. Her father died shortly after the marriage and left half his fortune to me. He was wise enough to understand the issue of dependency and made clear in his legacy that he loved me and wanted me to be independent financially. I have been freed from any risk of being angry and resentful because of being dependent. Mary and I have been very happy together. I love her more than anything, and I am certain that my love is not predicated on her money. What greater gift could her father have given to both of us?”

  “A remarkable man. I don’t think there are many who would bequeath half of their fortune to their son-in-law. Many would think that would liberate the son-in-law to leave the daughter without financial risk.”

  “Yes, James, he was an exceptional man. And you are right about the risk. However, he judged that I loved his daughter enough that the risk of that was less than the risk of an eventually unhappy marriage due to resentment – a problem he had seen in his own experience.”

  “So you joined the ranks of the ‘idle rich’ as they say.”

  “Yes. And it has allowed us to give of ourselves to our society in ways we never could have done if we had had to struggle for money. I have tried to l
ive the kind of life you outlined as a desirable example. Mary has joined me in that, though she was born a commoner, and has no training for it at all. Mary is a most wonderful woman.”

  The two men had reached a point in their conversation where silence was needed for a few minutes. During this silence, the women, who had been silent, opened their own conversation.

  “Lady Richard Kirkpatrick is quite a mouthful. I would ask the same question of you that James asked of Lord Richard – what should I call you?”

  “The socially correct title is the one by which you have just called me. ‘Lady Richard’ for short. Since I did not inherit a title, I don’t get one in my own name, but because I am married to a Lord, I am a Lady, but with his name. In polite society, you could also call me 'my Lady’ or ‘Madam’ but I would prefer that you call me Mary.”

  “Will you also call me Maria?”

  “Yes, Maria, I shall. Shall we tell our stories now?”

  “Okay. I met James when we were quite young, attending a church group together. We lived in different towns and went to different schools, but our parents attended the same church and so we met and became acquainted. He’ll have to tell you what he saw in me. I thought he was the most intelligent, thoughtful, caring person I had ever met, outside of my parents. By the time I was fifteen, I was sure I wanted to marry him some day. Apparently, he liked me too. We dated frequently.”

 

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