Camille disguises herself to gain a position as the captain's cabin boy aboard a ship bound for the Caribbean in 1676. She soon discovers her natural urges, and her feelings must be expressed as a young boy looking at a father figure, not as a smitt...
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Portsmouth – Thursday, 12th November 1676
I stared seaward, lulled by the lap of waves against the wharf and the salty tang of the stiff breeze. I ought to have been mourning, but no tears remained. Nothing remains. Not here.
The pop of another sail filling snapped my attention back, and I watched more canvas being hoisted and sheeted in, pulling the ship more quickly away. Away to where?
I caught myself dreaming again, God knows for how long this time. Long enough for the ship to have sailed well out into the Solent. With a deep sigh, I turned toward home.
Home? A house, an empty house.
I retraced my steps past the ships along the wharf, slowing to scan again the notes and placards tacked to the warehouse doors. All the opportunities – for men. Then a new note, writ large and bold, caught my eye.
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A surge of hope rose in my breast as I turned to read the name boards on the ships alongside. Zeelandia, carved and blacked in the stern board of a tan-hulled barque, the second ship along, caused my heart to race. A quick assessment convinced me, so I tore the paper from the warehouse door, and as fast as my skirts would allow, I scurried home to change and pack.
Be prepared this time. Show my readiness. My eagerness.
Near breathless from my race back to the waterfront, I sighed in relief at seeing the barque still there. An old woman, dressed in tatters, stood from her perch and hampered my way, begging. I gave her three farthings, yet she followed me still, likely hoping for more. As I stepped onto Zeelandia'sgangplank, she mumbled toothless words, "This ship be cursed, lad; ye'll no return."
"Oh, an exciting adventure, then," I scoffed to the hag and continued aboard, accosted at the bulwarks by a tall, barrel-chested sailor.
"Avast there, lad. Who be you?"
"The cabin boy."
"No, you ain't. We's got none now."
"A placard over there calls for one." I tilted my head toward the posted papers and lifted my burlap bundle. "And I offer my services. All packed and ready to sail."
