Finding Home

Chapter Five

            Six weeks had passed since Olivia last set eyes on the beautiful, bright sunshine. She now knew every inch of the hold. She discovered that most of the crates consisted of red coat uniforms and weapons for the soldiers. In addition, many of the barrels carried gunpowder and different goods for them as well.

            On the other side of the hold was a makeshift 'brig', or holding cell for unruly sailors, captured enemies, or even stowaways.  

A place Olivia planned to avoid.

Within the first few days, the apple, rolls, and biscuits she acquired back in Portsmouth, along with the matches from the first night when she arrived on the ship, were gone. She had already made several trips up to the galley for more supplies and now it was time to make another.

            Olivia made her way over to the stairs and placed the lantern on a nearby crate. She blew out the light, then carefully climbed to the top and listened for any sounds coming from the other side.

Silence.

She slowly pushed the hatch up just enough to peer out. With no one in sight, she crept from the hold and into the galley. There was a small table in the middle of the room with two chairs on each side. Centered on the table was a large oil lamp. Seeing the flame dancing, Olivia knew she wouldn't have long before whomever lit it would return. The room was small and simple with many crates and barrels lining the walls.

            Stacked in one corner were a few dirty pots, pans, and plates. Olivia could see, not far from her, a barrel with its lid partially pried open. Inside she discovered 'hardtack', or tough biscuits, found on most long voyages. In the room, she also located a small shelf hidden behind a stack of crates that contained oil, wicks, and matches.

            Suddenly, Olivia could hear two voices coming from just outside the galley. She panicked, glancing around for a place to hide. She used all her strength and pushed a stack of crates out from a wall, wedging herself behind them.

The first sailor entered the room.

            “All I know is James says we're headed into endangered waters,” he said, looking back at the second sailor who had followed him into the room and sat down at the table.

            “We can take any challenge from any traitor vessel,” he said smugly.

The first sailor removed a piece of hardtack from the crate and joined him at the table. “Several other supply ships have already been raided in the name of these new 'Americans'. I hear they can be fierce,” continued the first sailor.

“Let them try. We are the British with many forces. I say bring it on,” smiled the second sailor light-heartedly while he leaned back and propped his feet up on the table.

The first sailor just shook his head and finished his biscuit. After a few moments, the first sailor stood and walked towards Olivia, who kept very still.

            He reached for the dirty pots next to her when, all at once, “ALL HANDS ON DECK!!” rang out through the ship.

The second sailor sprang to his feet and the two ran out the door towards the stairs leading to the main deck.

            Olivia crept out from behind the crates and hurried to the door. She looked out; sunlight was streaming in from the open hatch leading up to the main deck. She could faintly hear the sounds of angry cries and blasts of gunpowder. She quickly made her way over but stayed out of view. She caught glimpses of men running around the deck wielding swords and daggers. Out of nowhere, numerous deafening vibrations could be heard and felt. A fast-paced object flew past the open hatch and hit the ship with such force that it knocked her off her feet.

            Olivia swallowed hard, her eyes wide. She was terrified, not knowing what to do. She jumped up and sprinted towards the hatch leading to the safety of the hold. Once at the bottom, she found the lantern and fumbled for the matches in her pocket. Now able to see, she swiftly walked down the narrow walkway to her hideaway amongst the rigging. She flung herself down on the makeshift bed and placed the lantern next to her. She sat there thinking about the events going on overhead and tried to calm her breathing.

            The fighting continued for what seemed like an eternity and then it stopped as suddenly as it began. She strained to listen in the eerie silence wondering what the outcome was. Olivia peered into the darkness of the hold half expecting to see something, but there was nothing.

Not long after the skirmish ended, a faint light could be seen at the top of the stairs. She quickly leaned over and extinguished her lamp. Next, she pulled a piece of canvas sail, like a curtain, over her hiding place and peeked out.

            Soon she heard voices on the steps. In the light of their lamp, Olivia could see two men, with pistols in hand, leading a group of four men down into the hold. They were placed in the brig, where the heavy metal door was slammed behind them.

            She could hear one of the imprisoned men shout, “You will never get away with this!”

            One of the captors smirked, “This vessel now belongs to the new 'American' nation in care of Captain Jones, and you will do well to remember that.”

            Both men laughed as they made their way back up the ladder and flung the hatch closed behind them. Again, the hold was thrown into darkness and all she could hear were the murmurs of the crew that once inhabited the upper decks.

Olivia's heart sank as she came to the realization that her ship had been captured. She lay down, clutching the locket in her hand, knowing sleep wouldn't come that evening, and she hoped for a better tomorrow.

            Time passed slowly and not a word was heard from the captors. All Olivia could focus on were the mumbling whispers of the men in the brig, plotting to take their ship back.

Three days after the ship was captured, she awoke to the sound of men laughing and wood crates splitting open. She grabbed for her cap and pushed her hair back up under it. Then she shoved herself as close as she could against the far wall.

The voices came even closer.

            “Look here mates, we got us some new sails,” came another voice from just beyond where she sat.

He pulled hard on the canvas, and it flung to the ground, revealing her hiding place. Completely surprised, all three men stopped and stared at her.

            “What is this? A spy!” exclaimed the sailor reaching for Olivia.

She squirmed away from him.

            “No, a stowaway,” declared another.

The first sailor grabbed Olivia firmly by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She felt faint and sick at the same time. Worried about what was going to happen to her. Would she be thrown in the brig, too? Would she be tossed overboard?

            “Either way, the Captain will see to you! What be your name, rat?” growled the first sailor.

Olivia was so frightened that when she opened her mouth no words came out.

            “No matter, your fate has been sealed!” continued the first sailor.

            Holding tightly to her arm, the sailor dragged her over to the stairs, passing the brig full of stunned prisoners who had no idea she was even down there. He forced her up the stairs and continued to the main deck. Olivia was silent, but her mind was racing.

What would they do to me if they found out I am a girl?

The sailor lifted the latch and the mid-day sun streamed down on her face. She was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the sun, but soon she became bombarded by voices that came from all directions. Once the white spots cleared from her eyes, the blurred figures became men in crude clothing, gathered in a circle around her. Olivia's heart was racing with fear, her mind trying to figure out her next move.

            “Ahoy mates, we have us a stowaway!” shouted the sailor as he threw Olivia down on the deck like a discarded piece of trash.

            The men began yelling and calling her all sorts of horrible names. She wanted to cry but knew she shouldn't show any signs of pain or fear. Olivia thought about the street boys and how brave they were. She had to be tough, especially if she wanted to make it as a cabin boy.

She stood up and stared straight ahead, a blank expression on her face. The men slowly realized she was not going to break. They soon quieted down and looked at each other, as if silently debating her fate.

            Finally, one sailor rang out, “He is one tough runt.”

Unexpectedly, everyone started laughing and cheering.

            A sailor stepped through the crowd and walked up to Olivia. “We best let the Captain decide what to do with this young lad, Aye?”

            “Aye, Aye,” came the crew and they dispersed, returning to their work.

            The man walked her towards the railing of the ship where she discovered several planks and ropes had been placed between the two ships to keep them attached to each other. As she crossed, she looked down and noticed the name of the ship was the Providence.  

Once on the other ship, she was led to a narrow wooden door to the left of the main deck. Olivia thought this must be the Captain’s Quarters. Her heart began to pound louder and louder in her chest. The man knocked on the door.

            “Come in,” came a bold voice from within.

The sailor opened the door and they stepped into the room, closing the door behind them. 

The room was larger than Olivia would have imagined. The only light came in from several massive windows on the opposite wall from where she was standing. To her right, was a dresser and next to this, a small round table and chairs set. On the other side of the room was a single bed, perfect for one person, and at the foot of the bed was an intricately carved chest.

            In front of the enormous windows stood a beautifully hand-crafted, over-sized desk that matched the windows perfectly. Laid out on the desk were an oil lamp, letters, maps, a metal compass, and other materials Olivia believed might have been for navigating the high seas. Standing behind the desk, with his arms folded behind him, was the silhouette of a man looking out at the ocean. She could tell he was a man of nobility by the clean-cut clothes he wore and the way he carried himself.

            “Captain, we found this stowaway hidden in the rigging of the Golden Phoenix,” stated the sailor.

The Captain stepped around the desk and came towards Olivia. He gazed upon her with kind eyes, and she felt a calm wash over her.

            The Captain then looked at the sailor and said, “I believe I would like to speak with this young gentleman for a moment alone. If you would, please excuse us, Quartermaster Garrett.”

            “Aye, Captain,” responded Garrett, who then turned and stepped out of the Captain's Quarters.

            The Captain gestured for Olivia to take a seat. She awkwardly moved towards the nearest chair. He took the chair across from hers. She grew impatient waiting in the lumbering silence for him to speak, longing to know what he planned to do with her.

            Then he asked her one simple question, “What might your name be?”

            “Oliver, sir.”

Finally, she thought. The silence was broken.

            “I am Commodore John Paul Jones. My crew refers to me simply as Captain Jones or simply Captain. You may do the same.” Olivia was a little puzzled by this.

            He then continued, “Oliver, where about did you reside before stowing away?”

            “Portsmouth, sir. I mean Captain. In England. In an orphanage. I won't be missed.”

            “On the contrary, Oliver. You may not know who is truly missing you,” he said smiling.

            Captain Jones casually stood up and strolled back over to his desk. He removed a tall round bottle and glass from inside a cabinet that was below his desk. He poured the dark liquor into the glass and offered some to Olivia. She politely declined. Holding the glass in his hand, he walked back around the desk and took a drink. He placed the glass on his desk and took the seat opposite hers again. This time when he looked upon her, she could see his demeanor had changed to a more serious one.

            “Oliver, do you understand what is occurring within the colonies?”

            Olivia shook her head. “Only what was overheard and rumored.”

            He took a deep breath and proceeded to give her a short history of recent events. “By the year 1770, King George III brought forth harsh taxes upon the people of the colonies. The colonists refused to pay such outrageous taxes. The colonists believed they should have a say in the laws placed on them, so they demanded representation in the British Parliament. King George retaliated by sending Governors to control each of the colonies. The colonists began to speak of leaving British rule and their unjust laws. King George's next step was to send soldiers to the colonies to keep order. British soldiers that were ordered to the Boston Colony took up arms against the innocent colonists. By 1773, the colonists had enough and dressed in feathers, boarded British ships, and threw chests of tea overboard into the Boston Harbor.”

            Captain Jones paused to let Olivia absorb the information she was just given. She felt as if all of this was familiar but couldn't quite think of why it was. Without warning, a far-off memory consumed her, and she was back on that charming street in Portsmouth.

She was sitting on the floor, in what looked to be a kitchen, playing with a small, porcelain doll. At the table sat the man and woman she now believed were her mother and father. She could see her mother holding what looked like a letter. “Darling, Charlotte writes that England has now decided to tax their paper, playing cards, and any legal document in something they are calling the Stamp Act. It is completely awful the way they are being treated over there in the colonies.”

Her father stood and angrily paced the floor. “First, they are forbidden to settle out west, then the Sugar Act, and now this! We made a promise to your sister that we would join her one day. I believe the time has come. Olivia is old enough to make the journey. We leave next spring.”

Her mother smiled. “That is wonderful I will write Charlotte at once.” Olivia's mother stood and trotted out of the room.

The scene faded, and she was again back in the company of Captain Jones.

            “They never had the chance,” whispered Olivia.

            Captain Jones looked at her concerned. “Oliver, are you all right?”

            “Yes…quite all right,” Olivia stammered, “My parents planned to make the journey to the colonies, but they died before we could make the voyage.”

Captain Jones watched as she collected her thoughts.

            Realizing he was waiting on her, she said, “Pardon me. Please continue.”

            He glanced at her, and after a brief moment, continued, “A year later, a representative from each colony gathered together to form the first Continental Congress in the Philadelphia Colony. Less than a year ago, the first battle occurred, beginning the war between the colonists and loyalists to King George. The first Continental Congress appointed General George Washington to lead our army of men from the different colonies.”

            He leaned forward in his seat and focused all his attention on Olivia. “We are at War!”

            Olivia took a deep breath realizing the seriousness she had placed herself in. “I don't know what I shall do... I can't return to England and don't know if I will be welcome in the colonies. I am without a home.”

            Captain Jones leaned back in his chair and examined her with understanding eyes. “I can suggest a solution to your dilemma – if you are willing to hear it.”

Olivia shook her head in the affirmative. What other choice did she have other than to hear him out?

            “Join my crew. We could use a cabin boy with your spirit. My crew is currently without one. You will share in their responsibilities. You will eat your meals and sleep in the same quarters as the crew. In turn, you will have a home and a family of your own. What do you say, Oliver? Will you join my crew and fight for the colonies?”

            Olivia couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was being asked to join a crew. A crew under Captain Jones to fight for the colonies. The same colonies her parents would have fought for. One of her dreams was actually coming true.

There was no question.

            She sat up tall in her chair and smiled at the Captain. “It would be an honor to join your crew and fight for the rights of the colonies.”

            Captain Jones stepped out from his seat and stood in front of her chair. He extended his hand to her. She stood and shook it. She was happy she finally had a home, something she had wanted for so long. Then she remembered that fighting for the colonies meant she was no longer welcome in England and would never see her dear friend Nathaniel again.

Her heart ached as she fought back tears.

            Captain Jones led her to the door. “That settles it. We shall locate Quartermaster Garrett, and he will see to your duties and accommodations.”

            Stepping back on the main deck, Olivia could get a feel for the grandness of the ship. The sails were tall and billowed out above her. They were once again moving, and she could see several men about, busying themselves with various jobs. She noticed the ship, Golden Phoenix, was following close behind them. Captain Jones told her that the ship now belonged to the colonies and would be taken there along with its crew. He assured her that no harm would come to them.

 They found Garrett at his post on the upper deck.

            “Quartermaster Garrett, it seems our friend, Oliver, here, has decided to join our crew in our quest for freedom. I need you to show him to his duties and accommodations,” stated Captain Jones as he placed a hand on Olivia's shoulder.

            “Aye, Aye, Captain.”

Captain Jones turned on his heels and headed back towards his cabin.     

            Garrett turned to Olivia. “Follow me.” He took her down the hatch to the middle deck and into the crew's sleeping quarters.

            The room was dark except for two lanterns that hung on hooks from the rafters close to the door. She could see several different pieces of netting hanging from the beams and were long enough for a body to sleep in. Each makeshift bed had a small chest located below or near it for the crewmembers in which to keep their belongings.

            Several of these net beds had a sleeping crewmember in them. Garrett, already two steps ahead of her, was leading Olivia to a back corner with a single net bed away from everyone else. She quickened her pace to catch up to him.

            “This is where you will sleep,” stated Garrett as he pointed to a corner of the room.

She walked over and gently touched the bed. The netting was coarse and stiff under her fingers.

            “Remember, if you are on this ship, you will work. There are no free rides. Sleep now as you will work the night watch at dark,” he commanded.

Garrett turned and walked out of the room.

Olivia looked back at the bed. She began to wonder how one was supposed to get in this crazy thing. Placing her hand on one edge, she moved her leg up to put it inside when instantaneously, the bed swung in the opposite direction, causing her to topple to the floor.

Stunned, she stood and looked around to see if her sudden misfortune woke any of the slumbering sailors. She had not, so after contemplating her next move, she decided to try again. Well, it was obvious to her now that trying from the front would be very difficult, not something she was willing to do again.

            This time, she turned around and placed one hand on each side of her hips. She grabbed the edge of the netting as if to sit in a chair. Now bracing herself for another tumble to the floor, she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back. She made contact with the net and slowly turned her body to lie down.

Triumph!

            It took her a little while to get used to the way the bed felt under her, but she eventually settled in and took the last of the hardtack out of her pocket.

As Olivia bit into it, the netting began to sway with the rhythm of the sea, and her thoughts traveled back to England.

She brought her hand to her chest and felt the familiar shape of the oval locket under her shirt. It was her only comfort in the unknown world around her.

            Swiftly, the events of the past few days and the pleasant swaying of the ship caused her to fall into a much-needed deep sleep.