Epilogue
“Come on, move that besom! Are you little girls or sailors?”
What the boatswain called his voice could more accurately be described as a repugnant maelstrom. John wiped the sweat off his forehead, hunched over the deck, doing his best to mop and polish with his good arm. But it certainly wasn’t an easy task. Every fiber of his body was aching, but the part that hurt the most was his heart. Benjamin’s blurred image would sometimes appear before his eyes, cruelly reminding him how alone he was now.
He was so focused on his own little world that he didn’t notice a ship had boarded the whaler. The rapid steps of the other sailors on the deck and the orders the officials were barking barely reached his ears, as if they were coming from across the ocean. Then the boatswain harshly or
