by Jack Dey
“When the preacher came to the island, he started telling our people about Jesus and how He was the Creator God and how we all are sinners and that we needed to believe on Him to escape eternal condemnation and separation from God. How He was beaten, mocked and nailed to a cross of wood for our sins and left to die.”
Nirrimi’s face contorted as she mentally pictured the man’s demise.
Aunty continued, “Nirrimi?”
“Yes?”
“He did it for love. For you, me and anyone who would listen.”
Compassion and sorrow flashed across Nirrimi’s face, then it was chased away by indignation and anger. “We have worshipped the spirits for as long as we have been here and they have always looked after us,” Nirrimi challenged.
“It was the spirits that demanded a sacrifice when you were born,” Aunty replied quietly, with a pang of hurt.
Nirrimi went silent.
“I was like you, indignant when the preacher started his teaching on Jesus. In fact, the elders were going to capture him and sacrifice him to the spirits. I was in agreement with the elders and joined with them in their plan and we were going to take him the next day.”
“What happened?” Nirrimi asked, still not knowing how she felt about Aunty’s story.
“After the elders gathered and talked through the plan, it was agreed that none of the people would go near the preacher until our men had bound and gagged him, and then taken him to the place of sacrifice. We were to ambush him the next morning. The plan was circulated amongst our people and we would take him on his morning walk near the deserted places. He would be away from the other white people and no one would come to his rescue. He would simply disappear. That night, I went to bed and I could not get the image of Jesus hanging on the cross out of my mind. I dreamed of the preacher screaming in pain, too. It was an awful night. I tossed and turned, and sometime before dawn, there was a flash that woke me up and something like bright sunshine filled my hut. A man in brilliant, white light appeared at the end of my bed. He was beautiful, with the kindest eyes I have ever seen and I was surrounded by a love and peace I cannot explain.”
Aunty paused, as if she were remembering and tears began streaming down her face. She sniffed and then continued, “He said, ‘Rosa, don’t let my family crucify me again. I have come to show them the path home and release them from the evil one’s torment’.”
Aunty went quiet and her shoulders began to tremble. Nirrimi cuddled into Aunty and held her for a long time before speaking.
“Aunty,” Nirrimi spoke softly, “how do you know this wasn’t a trick of the spirits?”
Aunty whispered softly, “He showed me the nail scars.”
Nothing was said for a long time as both women stared out at the night sky. It was too peaceful to speak. Something sacred had passed between them and a presence of deep love and power hung over them. It may have been hours that passed as Nirrimi sat with Aunty, basking in the love and peace that surrounded them. Nirrimi’s eyes were starting to close and she needed to sleep. It had been a draining day. There were still a multitude of questions running through her mind, but they would have to wait. She yawned quietly and kissed Aunty on the cheek.
“I love you, Aunty. I am going to bed.”
“Sleep peacefully, child. I am going to stay a while longer here.”
*~*~*~*
Aunty Rosa awoke with the sun as she normally did. The night had passed peacefully and Nirrimi and Merinda were still asleep. Aunty Rosa smiled at the two precious people almost side by side on her floor, Merinda’s arms and legs hanging over her mother, half in, half out of the blanket. The sun had a strong sting, even for this time of morning and was quickly heating up the small hut, while the humidity hung like a hot, damp cloth over them. Aunty Rosa hummed to herself as she quietly went about preparing breakfast.
Merinda stirred, unravelled herself from her mother like a miniature escape artist, then smiled and waved at Aunty Rosa through a tangle of dark locks hanging over her face. Aunty put a finger to her lips for her to be quiet, so Merinda would not wake her mother and then blew a kiss to the waking child.
Nirrimi coughed, opened her eyes and stretched. Her face was soft and radiated a peace Aunty had not seen before around Nirrimi and she glanced around, as if looking for someone.
“Good morning, child,” Aunty greeted.
“Good morning, Aunty. Wow!... What a dream!... What a night!” Nirrimi exclaimed.
Aunty Rosa turned to face Nirrimi, the light of knowing twinkling in her eyes. “Well, child, tell us what happened!”
“It’s true...! It’s all true...! I saw Jesus and he showed me His hands and feet, the nail scars. He was just as you described Him, Aunty. I felt His love sweep me up and those eyes...!” Nirrimi paused for a moment, recounting the dream, playing it and replaying it in her mind. “He showed me how deep His love for me is.”
Nirrimi jumped up from the floor and twirled around the room. Merinda giggled and wondered if this was the same mummy who had gone to sleep next to her last night.
“He held out His hand to me and I took His hand in mine. We were flying through the clouds and suddenly, we arrived at a place filled with sunshine. There were rainbows and colours and streams of crystal clear water; children laughing and waving at me; they were of many different nationalities and colours; there were happy people everywhere.”
Nirrimi danced again, but she suddenly stopped and a cloud crossed her happy face. “The preacher was there...! He took me in a hug and said, ‘I am so happy you met Jesus’.”
She paused. “I asked Jesus if Warrammarra was there too. ’Not yet,’ He smiled. I was just about to ask Him more about Warrammarra, when he took my hand again and we were flying. We landed in another part of the dream and a woman about my age ran up to me and hugged me. She was beautiful and she said she was my mother. We danced and talked and hugged, till Jesus said it was time to leave. There were so many questions I wanted to ask my mother. Jesus said, ‘There will be plenty of time later.’ He took my hand and we were flying through the clouds again. I said to Him, ‘I don’t understand, Jesus. My mother never had a chance to know you, she died before the Gospel was brought to my people. How did I see her in Heaven?’”
Her eyes sparkled. “He smiled, His eyes full of love. ‘There is a passage in my book, dear one. Romans 1:19 and 20. The truth about me is known instinctively. I have put this knowledge in their hearts. Since earliest times, people have seen the earth and sky and all I have made and have known of my existence and great eternal power. She knew of me by the wonderful things I put around her. She called out to me in faith, but she did not know my name until we met. Your mother loved me, knew and accepted me and my sacrifice for her on the cross. She, too, saw and understood the meaning of the nail scars. She found the path to me through her love of my creation.’”
She continued, “Jesus brought me back here and hugged me. ‘I love you Nirrimi,’ He said. ‘What about Warrammarra?!’ I reminded Him. ‘Trust me!’, He smiled and was gone.”
Breakfast was full of happiness and a joy pervaded the room. Nirrimi couldn’t stop talking about her new found Saviour and all she had seen. A question she had been longing to ask Aunty came into her mind.
“Aunty?”
“Yes, child?”
“What happened with the preacher… our people planned to sacrifice him?!”
Aunty leaned back in her chair, a cheeky smile formed on her lips and she began, “Well, child! I woke from my dream like you did. I marched straight down to the elders and told them the first man to touch the preacher would have me and my tree branch to contend with. I guess a large woman like me with a shining face and a tree stump in hand must have got the message across. Many of our people came to visit me and I told them about Jesus, including Warrammarra.”
*~*~*~*
CHAPTER 6 - PRESENT DAY
“Are you mad?!” Charlie challenged, the loud, heated words permeating through Da
mon’s cabin and out into the galley, even though the door was closed.
“I would have to be, to put up with you for so many years!” Damon retorted.
“It’s because of that woman, isn’t it? See a pretty face and a shape, and your brains turn to mud. Do you have any idea of the situation you have put this vessel and your crew in, taking on this charter?!” Charlie spat.
“That’s all superstitious garbage and you know it, Charlie!” Damon countered.
Charlie grabbed at the door. “The reason I was attracted to you...apart from the obvious, was your good judgement, gut feeling and cunning with the sea. Your crew followed you into places others would not go. We trusted and respected you... now this!”
Annemarie's engine at full throttle, made it difficult to hear in the galley. The engine noise radiated from the engine room two decks down, through the steel hull and into every part of the vessel. Today, however, the crew had no misgiving as to what Charlie and Damon had said. They had heard every word. The door to Damon’s cabin swung open violently, crashing against the wall. Charlie’s padded frame flounced from the cabin. Her stringy, sun-bleached-blonde hair hung over her collar and her face was deeply tanned, making her look older than thirty two. She walked swiftly into the galley, crashed through the rear galley doors and out onto the aft deck, just out of view of the other crew members.
Charlie had been with Damon for ten years. She had stood beside him through some of his roughest times; sharing his work, his heartaches, his celebrations and his bed. She was no oil painting, but she was a faithful mate. Charlie and Damon had argued a lot recently, especially since Damon had to sell his fishing licence just to keep Annemarie. His excessive drinking made him more argumentative and at times, even Charlie was afraid of him.
They had argued furiously when Damon decided to fit a galley alarm, an expensive computerised device that sounded a raucous siren in the galley if anything went wrong in the wheelhouse. One of Damon’s respected peers, on a vessel similar to Annemarie, had set his chart plotter to the exact coordinates of his mooring inside a protected marina, a few hours from his, then, current position. He set his autopilot so the vessel would remain on the course and speed selected, then he let the vessel take over. He turned to do other things, slipped and hit his head and was out to it. None of the crew suspected there was anything wrong. They were not aware that the skipper was unconscious and things went on normally, until...! The vessel, still on autopilot, still at full speed and still on its set coordinates, ploughed into the Marina’s refuelling wharf, killing all onboard. If a galley alarm had been fitted, the radar and GPS limits would have set off the galley alarm in plenty of time to warn the crew and stop the vessel.
Damon thought, that situation could easily happen to anyone, no matter how careful they were.
The galley was the dining area and kitchen all in one, where the crew came together to eat. The area was below decks and roughly the size of a large, conventional bedroom. The wheelhouse was directly above the galley and a steel ladder connected the wheelhouse and the galley via a steel hatch. The kitchen was separated from the dining area by a partition wall. The wall had a central doorway but no door. The port side part of the wall had an open window cut into it, with a shelf for serving cooked food to the table. On the port side of the kitchen was a large stove/oven, two microwaves and a large, two-door fridge. Steel storage cupboards for canned food lined the starboard side. The dining area had a large, wooden table in the centre of the space, surrounded by ten wooden chairs. The cabins were on the periphery of the galley and the doors all faced inwards, towards the dining table. The galley was the largest area on the vessel, where everyone could be together all at one time.
Morita Hiroto was Annemarie's cook, but everyone just called him Johnny. He was an old Japanese man, somewhere in his seventies, tiny in stature and still speaking broken English even though he had been in Queensland most of his life. Johnny had been with Damon from the beginning and Damon protected him ardently from any rough housing from the crew. Johnny heard the argument and witnessed Charlie crash through the galley doors, an all too common occurrence now.
“Missy Boss an’ Skipper argue, no good, no good.” Johnny said quietly to himself.
The hot afternoon sun was starting to set and it was getting dark. They had been underway now for almost nine hours and Damon was looking forward to dropping anchor in three hours. The leeward side of Pipon Island was their intended anchorage and a beer would be his reward after a long watch. There was no moon tonight, making it easier to see oncoming vessel lights in the dark, particularly the pesky novice yachtsmen that seemed to be everywhere these days. Damon spent most of his time in the wheelhouse, only coming out for a short break every now and then while Pooch, his engineer, stood watch. The sea was calm and the air outside the wheelhouse was considerably cooler now they were four hundred miles further south. The gentle swaying of Annemarie was making it hard to keep awake. Damon much preferred it when Annemarie fought the waves and cut her way through the larger swells, making it difficult to stand without holding onto something.
The hatch behind him suddenly creaked and Johnny entered the wheelhouse from the galley. The wheelhouse was dark except for dim green lights coming from the radar screen and the vital instrument panels.
“You like coffee, Skipper?” Johnny asked, as he closed the hatch and stood still in the darkened room until his eyes adjusted.
“Yeah, thanks Johnny,” Damon replied. “I will need all my faculties sharp to keep my eyes peeled for other vessels now.”
Johnny placed the cup on the console next to Damon. “I go make dinner for others now, bring some for you too, later.”
“Okay, Johnny. Thanks.”
The hatch opened and flooded the wheelhouse momentarily with the light from the galley. Damon squinted in the sudden light and then it went dark again, his eyes constantly staring out at the darkness where the horizon should be. He was looking for signs of light, warning him of the presence of any other vessels. While the horizon was dark, all was well. He checked the radar screen, glanced over the instruments and checked the chart plotter for his position. All was going smoothly.
In the darkness, Damon’s mind kept replaying his attempts at breaking the ice with Elishia and her deliberate snub. It had been playing on his mind when Charlie had burst into their cabin and took him to task over the charter. He didn’t mean to be so terse with her, but she always did get jealous when there were other females onboard. He wasn’t sure if he liked this bossy Elishia woman and her secrecy anyway. Why did she keep her surname secret?! And what did she want in Bathurst Bay? She must be up to no good, he thought.
Now that Damon’s business needs had changed, he had had to reduce his crew from ten to five, so he had kept the best and let the rest go. With the charter work there was no need to have a full crew. There were no nets to run out or long lines to bait and retrieve and no fish to process. Charlie could be argumentative at times, but she knew Annemarie just as well as he did and she was his girlfriend, after all. Johnny was his cook and like a father to him, always full of encouragement and a kind word even when Damon’s blood was up.
Pooch was his best mate and Annemarie's engineer. The teamwork between them was like a well oiled machine, each anticipating the other’s thoughts, especially in an emergency. They had been through some times together, long before Charlie was around. He gathered that she knew what they were like and only walked away when they boasted of old times, usually after a night of drinking. Pooch knew engines like the back of his hand and could fix just about anything with a piece of wire. Charlie once asked him why he was called Pooch.
Damon had laughed and spoken for him, ”He has a nose for wheeling and dealing and could sniff out a deal a mile away.”
Damon and Pooch could have been brothers. They looked similar, had similar builds and thought alike.
Knots was a tall, skinny kid that Damon took an immediate liking to. He wasn’t skilful with his
seamanship, but what he lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm. He acquired the name 'Knots' when he tied up the boat to a mooring once. The knots he tied came loose and Annemarie, seeing an opportunity to go off on her own, drifted away. No one was onboard at the time. Damon, shocked at seeing Annemarie from the beach, drifting from her mooring, plunged into the sea and swam after her. Knots was never allowed to secure anything with rope after that.
Johnny had a bronze metal bell hanging just outside the rear galley doors on the aft deck. When he wanted the crew to come for meals, he vigorously pounded the bell with its metal tonsil. The sound, easily carrying to all parts of the vessel even when she was underway, alerted them when a meal was available.
Johnny pounded the bronze bell and Knots arrived first, from somewhere in the darkness, closely followed by Pooch and Charlie. They pushed open the galley doors, sat down at the wooden table and began to consume the hot food set before them. Johnny walked over to Elishia’s cabin and knocked.
She replied through the closed door, “Just a minute!”
The door opened and Elishia stood in the doorway, blocking Johnny’s view of her cabin, an expression of ‘why-have-I-been-disturbed?’ on her face.
“My name Johnny, Missy. Would you like some dinner?”
“Would you bring me a plate of something, please? I am busy at the moment,” Elishia replied.
“Very well,” Johnny answered.
Damon checked the instruments again and noticed the engine temperature had started to climb. It wasn’t significant, but it worried him just the same.
Annemarie's instruments never moved from the normal position and just maybe, something had been sucked into the raw water inlet, he thought.
Damon’s maintenance was always done on schedule and to the book, so he always had confidence in Annemarie’s abilities. A breakdown at sea could cost you your life, not to mention losing money through an abandoned charter. He stared at the misbehaving gauge, wondering what dangers it was alluding to and decided to get Pooch to take a look after dinner. Damon was just leaning over, checking the chart plotter, when Annemarie suddenly dipped and the engine strained and faded. She surged back up to power and then dipped again. He hurriedly reached over to neutralise the transmission lever, but before he could, Annemarie dipped violently, the engine strained again, then choked and died.