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The contents of this story are fictional. Any resemblance of the characters to any other persons is strictly coincidental. Certain characters engage in sexual acts, which may or may not be legal in the state or country in which you the reader may reside. Any reader with objections to graphic descriptions of sexual encounters between males who may not have reached the legal age of consent, or whose local, regional, state or national jurisprudence prohibits such descriptions, should not read further. rick19uk@ntlworld.com
The Castaways...
Chapter 1. Copyright by rick19uk...February 8th 2004
My name is Jeffrey Brittland Smyth. It is the year of Our Lord 1790, and the time at which I begin this story I had some eight weeks earlier celebrated my thirteenth birthday.
Following the harrowing experience of the death of my dear mother, I found myself travelling on the post coach to Hull on the east coast of England en-route to my grandparents who live there. I am now an orphan and existing in the depths of despair, the likes of which I didn't know existed. My father who was also named Jeffrey, had died at sea whilst serving in the King's Navy when I was seven and once I had got over that horrible period in my life, I had lived a happily with my loving mother in our small thatched cottage in the Norfolk countryside.
She earned our living as a seamstress for the local dressmaker and some other private work besides. Whilst there was never any money to spare for many luxuries, the little we had was supplemented by what my father had left to us. This was his prize money from the navy and meant we were by most standards, quite comfortable. The fact that my mother could sew enabled me to always have good clothes on my back which though a blessing, made sure I stood out from my fellows at the village school I attended. These fellow pupils were generally from poor families who were the offspring of farm labourers and I thanked God that my own circumstances were comfortable if not downright luxurious by comparison. Unlike many of these unfortunate children we were warm in winter and never went hungry. At the risk of sounding somewhat vain, I was always top of my class by a considerable margin with my main strength being maths. This fact didn't help me to blend in either and caused me to live a relatively solitary existence compared to the other local children.
As I said earlier I was 13 and had just had my birthday when mother fell ill and died very soon after leaving me totally devastated. The local vicar who had been a family friend for as long as I can remember came to the rescue, taking very good care of me including all the things pertaining to my mothers funeral and will arrangements. It transpired that she had requested I go to live with my grandparents (fathers side) and that any money remaining from my fathers prize money (shares in the money from the sale to the admiralty of captured enemy ships) should be used to further my education and future. I was, I found out, incalculably wealthy having inherited several thousand pounds and this not including the cottage in which we lived. The money had been sent to my grandfather in the form of a banker's draught and was in all probability on the same post coach on which I found myself.
I duly arrived in Hull some two days after departure on what was an unseasonably warm day in late March. I looked around in vain for my grandfather whom I should add, I hadn`t seen since before my father had died, and I was I suppose, about six years old. My memory of him was of a robust rosy cheeked old fellow with a grey beard long enough to rest on his chest. I also remember he always wore the remains of his naval officers uniform. He too had been a lieutenant on a ship of the line and had also done well with "prize money".
I sat outside the post inn on my trunk wondering what to do. I knew his address but not where it was. The immediate area was squalid and I could smell the sea as well as all the other unsavoury smells associated with the lack of a proper sewage system. I hated it. I had as already said, grown up in the countryside of Norfolk with very rare visits to any sort of town let alone a city the size of Hull. It was without doubt intimidating to say the very least. I sat there for about an hour pondering my lot in life and wishing dearly to be back at home with the security and knowledge that I was loved and cared for by my adoring mother. As I lapsed ever further into the black depths of my despair and fought back the tears of grief, I was suddenly surprised to be gripped by the shoulder. I was gently hauled to my feet, taken into a bear hug by an elderly gentleman and whilst patting my back said, "welcome Jeffrey". "I was so sorry to hear about your mother but here you are safe and sound now and very, very welcome". He released me and stood back holding me at arms length and peering at my face. Smiling broadly, he shook his head and exclaimed, "my God! You are the spitting image of your father, I just can`t believe it. It's almost as if I had stepped back twenty-five years".
I had better tell you that at the time I stood around 5'4". I have blue eyes and my hair is sort of very light brown and bleaches to blonde in the summertime. I had a straight nose that sort of flicked a little at the end and a dimple in my chin. My lips according to mother, were full and shapely and I thought them to be a little over-red. My ears are quite small, sitting close to the side of my head. I was not displeased with the reflection from my bedroom mirror. At school, I had heard the girls thought I was quite good looking too, though I wasn't really too confident in that regard at all. I suppose I should at this point confess to not being too interested anyway.
Growing up in the countryside meant I knew the mechanics of how creatures were conceived and the obvious bearing it had on our own procreation. My sexuality at this time had most definitely not awakened and I viewed with horror the leering looks I got from the girls and their overtly suggestive remarks. A lot of the boys however were very keen to try things out and were very vocal with extremely ribald comments regarding all things sexual. I merely shuddered and retreated to my books.
I spent most of my free time reading about the sea, pirates and battles, capturing enemy ships, and growing immensely rich off prize money. I had also read my fathers diaries, where secluded in his sea cabin he had written a brief summary each day of life at sea. The battles he had been in had been the best bits of course and the details of what he could expect as his share of the "prize money" made very exciting reading. Notably, the one I missed reading the most was the one that had gone down with him and his ship when it was lost with all hands during a skirmish with a French squadron in the English Channel. Witnesses from other ships in the British squadron said fathers ship had been hit in one of her magazines and blown herself out of the water. The only consolation one could draw from the tragedy was the fact that it had been mercifully quick for a much-loved father who had adored both mother and I.
Grandfather released me and signalled to another elderly fellow who walked over leading a pony and trap. We loaded my trunk onto the tail and got into the back of the trap whereupon the other fellow climbed up and gently clicked his tongue to start the horse on the trip to my new home. He turned out be called "Ned" and worked for my grandparents doing all the "outside" things that had to be done.
We bowled along for about an hour leaving the outskirts of the city until we came to a lane and turned into it. About 10 minutes later we arrived at a house set back from the road that had no neighbours I could see in any direction. Compared to what my mother and I had lived in, in Norfolk, it was enormous. In reality, it was a large 10-roomed stone built house set in 5 acres of land. There was an orchard, a few pigs, hens, geese and a milk cow too. A large kitchen garden supplied most of the needs as far as vegetables were concerned with there also being numerous outbuildings to the side and rear of the house.
On arriving we drew up in front of the house where my grandmother, another serving man and a maid met us. My trunk was whisked away and I was further enveloped into my grandmother's soft bosom where she tearfully welcomed me and expressed her sorrow at my mother's death. She also did exactly as grandfather had done and held me at arms length looking at me and shaking her head. She said, "it's a very good job you are named after your father or I would be confusing you with him. You are the spitting image of him as he was at your age. You are a very fine looking young man". I blushed furiously and turned away quickly, hoping she missed the sudden tears that sprang to my eyes.
Over the next week or so I settled in and basked in the tender love and care from my grandmother and slowly began to return to my old self. Their library was wonderful and I was to be found there most evenings and every day the weather didn`t permit me to venture outside. It was about 10 days after I arrived that grandfather called me into his study to discuss my future as he put it.
He didn`t beat around the bush but came straight to the point and told me he had secured a berth for me as a cabin boy on a merchantman that was owned and captained by an old friend of his. My heart sank to my boots and I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth on learning that I was not to go back to school. I had dreamt of the sea and the adventures to be had there for as long as I could remember, but my overriding ambition was to do as my mother had wished, continuing at school and to eventually go to a good university. Alas, this was not to be but instead the life of a boy at sea awaited me.
Everything began to happen quickly, I was taken into Hull and outfitted for my new life at sea. Grandfather regaled me with tales of his own life at sea and I have to admit to becoming a little excited at the adventures that lay before me. He told me that the ship I was to join was to set sail for the South Seas and that I should pay the utmost attention to my duties and not make him ashamed of me. The family name and honour rode on my shoulders. Further, if I did well it had been agreed that I would be taught navigation and would eventually become an officer, as had he and my father, albeit with me in the merchant marine and not the Royal Navy. His reasoning was that in this day and age, with the world "opening up", there would be far greater opportunity to gain great wealth. He further schooled me in the fact that the sea was a cruel master and to take great care over my own personal safety. A man overboard was rarely (if at all) brought back onboard alive. Safety lines were just what they were named, for safety, and to use one at all times when in foul weather.
After about another 10 days from being told of "my fate" I was duly taken to the docks whereupon we searched for "The Kingfisher". The place was bustling with activity and it was difficult to drive the small trap through all the piles of merchandise piled on the wharves. The smells as we passed the fish dock were disgusting but the fresh breeze blowing in from the sea soon dispersed them as we eventually drove past. It was late April and the showers had held off for the past few days so at least we were arriving dry.
We eventually found "The Kingfisher" and as we pulled up to the plank my grandfather leapt out and went bounding up despite his 60 years. He was met at the top by a stern looking chap all rigged out in black and also sporting a long grey beard. I could see his eyes sparkling as he held out his hand to grandfather. They shook hands vigorously and clapped each other on the shoulder both looking happy to meet each other again. As this was happening I was able to stand back somewhat and look at the ship I was to be bound to for the next several years. She was a beautiful three masted vessel that to my inexperienced eye looked well cared for and was also a bustling hive of activity. Grandfather looked back over his shoulder and with a toss of his head beckoned me to join him. I very nervously sprinted up the plank and was introduced to Captain Bland.
It seems that things had gone rather quicker than anticipated and instead of leaving in two days we were to catch the next tide and depart upon it. Having got my trunk aboard and been shown to my berth I went back on deck to find grandfather. I spotted him by the wheel with Captain Bland and made my way to him. He took me into a bear hug and with an obvious tear in his eye wished me well, further admonishing me to hold the family name dear, not to shame him and to work hard and conscientiously. He squared his shoulders shook hands with the captain again, shook mine, turned and was gone. Little did I know then I would never see him again.
I was treated with care and kept well out of the way, as the ship was got ready to put to sea. It was truly quite exciting to see the men sprint up the rigging to unfurl the sails and the thousand and one other things that go to getting ready for sea. I learned that we were to sail down the North Sea hugging the coast as close as we dare until we met with the Thames estuary. We were to sail down the River Thames into The Port of London to take on more goods, which were to trade with once we reached our destination of the South Seas.
As we ventured out into deep water the ship began to toss and roll and I was truly and dreadfully seasick. I was so bad the other men told me I was actually green. I was vomiting over the side and retching for stuff that was no longer there. Eventually I began to wretch up green bile. It was terrible. I have never been as ill in the whole of life and I eventually collapsed onto the deck. The boson, a kindly man, had me taken to my berth and tucked in and left there to sleep it all off. I hasten to add here that I was never seasick again after that time. As I lay there I couldn't help but reflect the fact that only a month had gone by since my mothers death. I bemoaned my fate and the terrible blow I had received and instead of being back at school then going home to my loving mother each day, here I was, as poorly as could be, being tossed around on the open sea wishing I was dead too.
I awoke several hours later and it had become light, I had survived my first night at sea. As I awoke, I was confronted by the other ships boy, who had come he said, to rouse me. He introduced himself as David the bosons nephew. He was a little older than me, maybe 14. He told me that he was seasick on his first voyage and that he had been told it got better as you got used to it, he then confirmed that for him at least, it had proved to be true. Asking me how I now felt I answered that I was now fine but was ravenously hungry. As I dressed, he chattered on telling me that we were very lucky because there would be little to do till we departed from London. It was there we were to pick up our 6 passengers and seeing to their needs would be the primary task of we two. He then offered to take me to see the ships cook too scrounge up some breakfast as he put it. He would then teach me what I would have to do and generally show me around. We had breakfast together and as we sat I studied him somewhat.
He told me that he was fourteen and a half and he had been at sea since he was eleven. He was very sturdy and stood around 5`7". His hair was verging onto black with eyes that were almost chocolate coloured and topped by the most impish black brows. His mouth, for want of a better description, is beautiful, flashing wonderfully white even teeth. He was without doubt a very fine looking boy and I instantly liked him knowing instinctively we would be very good friends. He was barefooted and wore an oiled heavy woollen jersey over very tight trousers he had obviously outgrown; also the bottom of the leg finished half way up his calf. We sat opposite each other as we ate breakfast and began an animated discussion relating our lives so far. He giggled a lot and I couldn't help but notice how his eyes sparkled when he became excited. It was all over too soon and he said we had better show ourselves or risk a tongue lashing from his uncle for slacking.
We ended up having a very busy day and it was in David's terms, "beginning to blow up" as it began to get dark. To "blow up" I soon realised, meant it was getting very windy indeed and though the ship began to toss and roll around I didn`t feel seasick in the least. David said that the best thing to be done in these conditions was to go and get oneself wedged into the berth and try to sleep. I took him at his word and we parted, each to our respective berths. I had fallen into a somewhat uneasy sleep and was very rudely awoken by David shaking me very aggressively. He carried a lantern and looked extremely scared. The noise above us was horrendous; we could hear wood splitting and the howling wind that was shreaking through the rigging. I too became very frightened indeed. We made our way very cautiously up onto deck and were met with absolute mayhem. We were, as I would later find out, in the middle of one of the worst storms of the century.
As we looked around in absolute fear we saw the men were trying to get a boat over the side and it was quite apparent that it was a case of "abandon ship". David and I clung to each other and all thoughts of my grandfathers advice regarding safety lines was nowhere in my head. I just thanked God that I was brought up in Norfolk near the Norfolk Broads and had been able to swim like a fish since I was 5. As this thought went through my head a huge freak wave swept the deck taking several huge packing cases with it and us too. I'm sure I saw at least three of the men go overboard as well. As David and I fell to the raging sea it was obvious that he had hit something and was insensible. I thanked God again for my ability to swim and clung to David in a death grip. We brushed against something solid and in the pitch black of the night I realised it was one of the packing cases we had seen go before us with the freak wave. I grasped onto it pulling David with great difficulty and much exertion onto the huge case. It was very difficult to stay on it but on feeling around I found some rope trailing over the side. Obviously it was the lashing that had not held it to the deck. I tied us together as best I could and prayed for salvation whilst David's head rested on my lap.
The night, the longest of my life, slowly dragged on with us clinging in absolute horror onto the case. David had come around soon after I had tied us down. It was appallingly cold, but thank God, the wind began to die as fast as it had sprung up, this after what seemed like hours of clinging to our meagre life support. The wild sea took a lot longer to calm after the furore it had been whipped into. Slowly but surely, the sky in the east began to lighten and we were, in daylight, more able to take stock of our situation. At least we had survived, but there was however, no other sign of life or indeed our ship. We were alone with nothing but the sea and the empty horizon all around us. We were very frightened.
Several more hours went by with the cloud eventually clearing. Mercifully, the sun began to warm us as it gained strength and in so doing, took a great deal of the feeling of total desolation from us. We were very hungry and thirsty. Suddenly, David pointed and turning said, I am sure I see a boat. We both very carefully stood, trying desperately not to rock our case too much and began to wave our arms like mad men for what seemed like forever. The men on board eventually waved back and as we saw it turn towards us, our case gave a savage lurch and we both fell into the sea again. This time however, I had made sure we were both tied to the case by make shift lifelines. Thank you grandfather.
It took the small fishing boat about an hour to reach us and we were hauled aboard and asked what ship we were off. Having told them "The Kingfisher" we were informed that the storm that had wrecked us was the worst in living memory and that many other ships had foundered. The fishing boat was from London and as we ate the food they gave us and drank water we held on tightly to each other constantly turning to stare into each other's eyes, grinning nervously, and giving the occasional shudder. I had survived my second night at sea and rescued David, an absolute non-swimmer from certain death.