Category — 2. Captain England

Nearly nine weeks into the voyage, I became ill with some virus or another. I lay in a hammock in the cabin, drinking some chamomile tea and wishing I had some serious drugs on me. Vicodin, Percocet, anything… It was probably just a common head cold, but I felt miserable. The misery was enhanced by the fact that I could not submerge myself in a bathtub, could not take a hot shower, could not sleep in a warm bed.  Read more...

The days passed thus, as my nausea pill supply dwindled and I became increasingly nervous. I hoped to God that I’d acquired my sea legs, since I didn’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t. I had some ginger in my chest for nausea, and I hoped it would give me some relief. It had worked when I’d suffered from morning sickness while pregnant with Sophie… in another life, it seemed.  Read more...

After going back to Nassau and frantically grabbing anything of use to them – supplies and weapons and more men – the pirates had run out of time. The next morning, Rogers’ entire fleet returned, including two Royal Navy sloops-of-war brimming with soldiers and hungry for pirate blood. A chase ensued as I clutched wildly at the bulwarks, crouching and covering my ears from the blasts of the cannons, waiting for the ship to burst into splinters at any moment. England tried to get me below decks, but I was not moving from my corner where I could witness everything.  Read more...

In the two weeks that followed, I organized my “medicine chest” – which was merely a small box filled with tins of various herbs that I had either acquired from Ruth or found myself. I searched the overgrown fields and pristine jungles around Nassau and, with Ruth’s help, managed not to get myself killed.  Read more...

I heard Nan speaking in a low voice to England. “We thought she was done for, Eddie,” she was saying. “Poor Nel had the bloody flux, she did, couldn’t keep a thing down. And now! Just look at ‘er! Sitting up, talking, as right as a fiddle, she is!”

I smiled at Nel, a small woman in her early twenties. She smiled back, her eyes shining. I felt a lump in my throat. This little prostitute had indeed been on the brink of death when I’d arrived at the bawdy house, looking for Kat. My frigid reception had been forgotten when I’d told her I could help Nel and the other women afflicted with the illness. I’d done nothing fancy: I’d boiled water and added a bit of salt and sugar to it. Then I’d made them drink it. And drink some more.  Read more...

England scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to digest everything I’d told him. “Lass, I don’t know what to say. Ye’ve turned everything I know on its head.”

I sighed. “I know. But you have to believe me.” I stood up and started to pace. “The privies – they’re a major problem. You can’t let waste get into the drinking water. That causes cholera, dysentery, typhoid fever…”

“And boiling the water kills these invisible culprits, ye say?” he asked, looking up at me from where he sat at the table.  Read more...

Mental note: Do not fall asleep in a corset. I awoke to find the strips of whalebone digging into the flesh of my abdomen and my breasts aching from being flattened.

I sat up suddenly, my head spinning. Where was I? As my eyes focused, I remembered. As with every time I had awakened in 1718, I still wondered if I was dreaming, still experienced that plummeting feeling in my gut every time I realized that this was, in fact, not a dream.

I was in 1718.  Read more...

Far too quickly, we found ourselves standing beneath a canvas tarpaulin, surrounded by extravagantly-dressed men who were sitting on stools around tables and casks, drinking and smoking. Women, their faces painted and powdered with a heavy hand, pranced between the men, refilling mugs and cups and goblets, swinging their hips as they walked. Funny, how I knew I was in a pub without being told. Some things, apparently, do not change with time. The raw smell of unwashed bodies wafted at me with the breeze, and I found that, slowly, I was becoming used to it. While it still had the potential to knock me senseless, I had stopped gagging every time I smelled it.  Read more...

We stepped out into the damp evening, nevertheless pleasant, with a light, cooling breeze. I lifted the hems of my skirts without thinking, not wanting to ruin the fine material with mud. I was exhausted, too exhausted to even mind the growling of my stomach, but ran on a steady trickle of adrenaline. As we walked, England briefed me on Charlie Vane, the unofficial “governor” of New Providence, the chosen leader of the pirate bastion. In addition to being a skillful navigator, naval tactician, and die-hard Jacobite, he was a brutal man, reveling in the torture of his victims.  Read more...

He held his hand out to me, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve a weak stomach, cailin,” he said.

“You killed him,” I said, taking his hand and letting him pull me upright. “For real. You killed him.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied nonchalantly. “And if I remember correctly, I told ye not to leave the house.”

“Nothing but trouble,” Jameson grumbled behind him, a stream of tobacco shooting from his mouth into the shrubs. “I say leave her be, Cap’n. She’s a mess o’ trouble, waiting to happen. Mark my word.”  Read more...