by Alyssa Plant
Making waves
By Alyssa Plant
What happens when a really good plan meets with its arch nemisis: Being put into action. A tale of One girl's self discovery, love, and swashbuckling on the high seas.
Part One.
Peter Goldwyn shivered in the early morning chill as he stood on the deck of the ship transporting him and two dozen other passengers southwards towards the East Indies. His father had left England when he was a babe under the flag to conduct the business of the crown in the territories of the Caribbean. His mother had told him tails of his father’s work, and where he lived, and he had learned to read with the letters his father had sent home.
Here he was; 15 years old, and aboard a ship sailing ever closer to his father. Peter closed his eyes and pictured his father’s painting over the mantelpiece in their London home, He pictured the port in Barbados, and his father, just like the painting rushing to meet him and his mother as they disembarked from the ship. The image brought a smile to his lips. Peter longed to see his father again, to be part of a real family like his friends had. Of course all of those friends remained behind in London while he was many many miles away. He had no idea how far, but it must be at least hundreds.
They were, according to the ship’s captain, a week out of the outer Caribbean. Peter had risen early that morning to try to catch sight of the dolphin’s the ships crew talked of, that bobbed and weaved as they swam alongside the ship. So far, he had seen nothing, but the fact he had not been looking slipped his over burdened mind. It was relaxing to be alone,. Well sort of alone, the ships crew were around, maintaining their charge, keeping them ploughing onward towards their destination. He relished time away from his mother. He felt less guilty for not being the son she wanted. His friends had grown tall, and strong, and become interested in girls, but Peter had not. If anything, he had become interested in his friends, much to his horror. Peter felt like god had punished him for his thoughts, his desires, the ones he kept locked away in his heart. He had never wanted to be a boy… he had never liked the rough and tumble games they had played, or the way they behaved. And as a punishment for his thoughts and inadequacies, god had punished him with a frail slight frame, and none of the manly attributes his friends possessed. Of course, a part of peter relished this, prayed it would always be, but his rational side told him the truth as he saw it. It was wrong, and a sin… That much he knew.
“Peter?” called his mother from behind. Turning, he snapped out of his self debate and smiled at his mother weakly. Marie Goldwyn was an attractive woman; she had given birth to Peter when she was 20, and time had been kind to her. Her long dark hair done up in an simple bun, with several strands breaking loose to frame her elegant face. Peter envied his mother.
Marie hugged the shawl tightly around her shoulders against the breeze as she approached her son. “Why are you awake so early Peter?” she questioned with a hint of concern in her conversational tone. “Are you feeling well?”
“Yes mother.” He smiled, “I just wanted to see the dolphins.”
Marie smiled and wrapped her arm around her son. She loved the boy with all her heart, but in truth, a pang of fear grew steadily stronger in her heart. What would Thomas say about him? Would he accuse her of failing to raise his son properly? Blame her for his lack of masculinity? Maybe this was just the way god had for him? To be a gentle soul, a kind, loving compassionate young man…
”What is it?” Peter asked looking up at his mother.
”Oh nothing darling.” She smiled, just thinking about your father.
Peter smiled, “I cant wait to see him, I don’t really remember him much.” He frowned. “All I have are the paintings in the house to really remember him by.”
Marie hugged her child. “Well you’ll get to soon enough. And we shall not be apart again.”
Four days later, The ship entered the first Island clusters of the Caribbean waters. Marie and Peter sat eating Dinner with the ship’s captain and the other passengers of standing n his quarters. They had just begun the meal when a ships crewman burst in, apologising profusely, but requiring the captain’s immediate presence at the helm. Making his apologies, the captain left the guests and followed the crewman.
“What the blazes is so damned important Davis, that couldn’t have waited till after dinner?” growled Captain Stevens as he followed his crewman to the helm deck.
Davis didn’t answer, but walked over to a crewman holding a telescope and handed it to the captain.
”That sir.” He announced grimly pointing towards a dot on the horizon.
Captain Stevens placed the lens to his eye and focused on the object. It was a ship at full sail. Atop its mainsail, a Calico Jack flew in the breeze.
Stevens felt his heartbeat quicken. He had dealt with pirates in the past, but he never relished the prospect of a boarding action with passengers aboard. He would try to outrun them and make for nearest port, damn the schedule…
“Full sail Davis, and arm the crew just in case, we’re running.” Barked Captain Stevens before making his way back bellow decks.
Dinner broke up early that night as the passengers were informed and crew readied.
Marie lead Peter to their cabin and locked the door behind them. She knew it was of little point, but it made her feel better. Peter was divided, one part of him fantasised about pirates, and the adventures… heroes and villains…, but another part was scared. Scared of fighting, and of death.
His mother paced the cabin a few times before sitting heavily on her bed..
”Mother?” he asked, half for reassurement that everything would be ok, half to reassure her. His mother didn’t look worried as he had first thought, she was concentrating furiously, thinking, working things over in her mind.. Feeling foolish stood there in the middle of the cabin, Peter sat beside her and placed his hand on hers as she held them clasped in her lap.
Marie worked the plan over in her mind several times, if what she had heard was correct, then it might well save Peter’s life… but could she? Could he? Could they? According to the captain, they might outrun the pirates, but at best, they had 2 hours before they knew for sure. Running the plan through her mind one last time, she explained things to Peter.
They would disguise peter as a teenage girl, her daughter… She had heard that pirates took young men and boys to bolster their ranks… to indoctrinate them in ways of crime and deviancy… If they thought peter was a young girl, they would spare him?
Anxiously, she watched her son for any sign of indignant refusal or bravado, but she saw none. He wore a look of meek acceptance and fear, mixed with something she couldn’t quite tell… Dismissing it, Marie began digging into her cases, she located the packages she had brought from the Oxford street boutiques for the Governor’s daughter as a gift; a child of similar age and size to peter. A pretty dress with all the fine accoutrements a fine lady of the City would wear… and would now hopefully save her darling son’s life.
Ordered to strip by his mother, Peter stood in nought but his underwear in the chilly cabin. Receiving a disapproving look from his mother, he slipped the underwear to the floor and stepped out of it. As much as the idea thrilled him, he was afraid it would show.
Marie bunched up the shift and lowered it over Peter’s and let the simple cotton undergarment fall about him. The young lady’s garment made him look even more fragile she mused: This may work yet.
Working quickly, she attached the petticoats, and laced the stay about her child, fussing and adjusting till she was satisfied his foundation garments were perfect. Helping him into the dress itself, she laced the bodice and adjusted the skirts before stepping back to admire her handiwork.
Before her stood a nervous young girl of 16 or 17 in the height of London fashion. She was shocked by how disturbingly pretty her son looked, unnaturally so for a young man. Things were not perfect of course…Naturally his hair would need fixing and a touch of makeup… but she felt a flutter of relief in her heart that the plan might just succeed.
“Darling? Do you feel well?” she enquired of her son, or daughter as seemed more appropriate at that moment.
Peter indeed felt strange. A mixture of signals flooded his body. Was he dreaming? Or was this a nightmare? “I.. Yes mother, The clothes just feel strange.” He answered hoping it would satisfy her.
Marie seated herself on her bed and motioned her child to join her.
”What shall we call you?” she asked, half to herself. The face looking up at her struck her of the paintings of her grandmother in her youth… Abigail Demontford… “Abigail” she mumbled. “Yes, you shall be my daughter Abigail.” She smiled.
”Now no arguing, we have a lot to do and very little time to do it in…” she said sternly. Before reaching into the trunk that contained her cosmetics.
Captain Stevens gripped the telescope in his hand as he watched the pirate vessel approaching on their stern. He did not need its magnification now to see what loomed. They had no hope of reaching port. This would be the time to stand and fight…
”Davis…” he began as the first cannonball flew overhead.
The battle was hard and furious, but within a space of a hour, the crew had surrendered and struck their colours. They were not a military vessel designed to survive prolonged sea battle…. And they were not Marines…
Captain Stevens, wounded in the exchange approached the pirate captain and handed him his sword. In all his days as a captain he had never expected this, but for the good of his passengers, it was his duty. The man before him accepted the blade without word. Looked it over from tip to hilt, before running him through with it. Captain William Stevens Died that day on the deck of his ship. His blood mingling with the timber.
Captain Brand did not relish the cold blooded killing of men, But the execution of a captain was always required to win the obedience of his men. Mercy bread heroes… and heroes were an inconvenience.
“Cooper, Martins, Hart,” he growled beckoning 3 of his junior officers up to him, “Crew, Passengers, and Cargo inventory. Now if you please.” He growled to the 3 men by his side. As the men moved off to their assigned tasks, Brand surveyed the efficiency of his crew. They had been raiding shipping in the Northern Caribbean for near 6 months now, and all together the crew was efficient. Good sailors, and good fighters. He controlled them with an iron hand and kept them in good coin for their loyalty.
Like a large number of his men, Brand was a former navy man disillusioned over time by the distance and desolation. While his values did not extend to property ownership, he despised rape and murder. Brand would raid a ship, take his pick of the cargo and move on: He often found that legends and fear grew more efficiently when there were people to tell of it.
Cooper, Martins and their men finished rounding up the crew and passengers of the English merchantman. Brand walked forwards. And stabbed the bloody sword into the decking by his feet, a rapid method of gaining everyone’s undivided attention he had learned.
As the hubbub subsided and all eyes fell upon him, he spoke in a quiet calm voice. “This ship and all aboard it now belong to myself and my crew. As you can see, some of my boys are a might twitchy, so if we can keep all heroics and dramatics to a minimum, there will be no further bloodshed.” He said plainly “If I get all I want, you may be allowed to go on your way.”
Peter, now Abigail, stood beside his mother on the deck of the ship, half hiding behind her skirts. He was terrified, The pirates were scary and nothing like the stories he had read. The Captain said that if they complied they would be free to go? Maybe his mother’s plan would work?
Peter had spent the hours before the attack with his mother, learning to move, act, and respond as a young woman of stature. Granted, it was by no means perfect, and she wouldn’t pass in the London social circles, but it was enough. His hair was done up in a braid and a slight amount of his mother’s makeup graced his cheeks. Peter felt… amazing. He couldn’t begin to describe the feelings of normality. It was as if he was finally awake after a life of dream. Did he think he was a girl? He wasn’t sure, He certainly felt better than when he wore boys’ clothes, and he wasn’t expected to be something he wasn’t now. Perhaps he was?
Abigail snapped out of her thoughts; Her mother was squeezing her hand tightly. The pirates were going through the passengers, checking them for valuables. Abigail felt her heart beat faster as the men approached them. When the Pirates finally reached them, Abigail wanted to cry with fear; the men looked over him and his mother with a animal hunger and started to grope around their dresses looking for supposed valuables.
A young Officer strode over and punched the pirate touching him in the face.
“You know the captain’s rules Smith, No touching womenfolk.” He growled before glaring at the man who had backed off from Peter’s Mother before turning to the mother and child, “Ladies, my apologies.” He smiled before moving on.
Cargo was offloaded, and a number of passengers and crew were persuaded financially to swap sides.
Marie looked at her child, no, her daughter, she couldn’t think of the angel by her side as her son. This ordeal was nearly over, she prayed that the bastards would leave them and be gone.
Captain Brand looked over the deck at loading operations. It had been a good raid,. 20 tons of powder for the Barbados guns, food supplies and luxuries aplenty… Amongst the passengers, they had secured a surgeon, and a navigator and 20 able bodied men from the crew. He was pleased with himself.
Captain Brand looked down towards his son, Edward Brand, the boy he had raised from a babe, and that would one day be his successor. The boy had taken the name of Martins so as to avoid any relation related issues amongst the crew. He hadn’t wanted it to seem as if his promotions had been based on his blood, rather than his backbone.
The lad was staring into the passengers milling on the deck as he supervised the detail guarding them. What was he looking at?
Brand walked along the helm deck of The Carpathia to get a better view. The boy was transfixed by an angel. The girl was a child, only 16 or 17 years, but a beauty. Brand chuckled. Perhaps he would have to give that son of his a kick start.
Abigail watched the pirates take the ship’s cargo, and begin to withdraw. She looked up at her mother and gave a weak smile, they had made it. If only she could find a way for her mother to allow her to wear this dress again? Oh how she loved the feeling, the caress of the fabric, Perhaps not the tight corset, but the way it squeezed her boyish chest into small mounds pleased her.
“Come here darling” growled a pirate as his fingers closed around Abigail’s arm. Abigail began to panic, and her mother began screaming. The last thing she remembered was someone clamping something over her mouth and nose before being engulfed by a deep blackness.
Making Waves
By Alyssa Plant
'Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet on the steps at the end of the hold and the sound of keys in the lock. Abigail slipped her legs off the bench and slipped into the gloom at the rear of her cell. She didn’t know who was coming, but she had a good idea what happened to girls taken by pirates, and it wasn’t related to tea parties or puppies.'
Part two
“You wanted to see me sir?” Lieutenant Martins sighed with annoyance. He was stood before the Captain’s desk while the old man looked over some charts. Looking up, Brand cracked a half smile,
“Would it hurt you to call me Father once in a while boy?”
Edward frowned. “Well I’m not feeling particularly friendly, so do you mind if we get to the point?”
Captain Brand looked up from his charts. “You never touch a woman when we make port, yet you seem to loose all sight of anything else when you are meant to be doing your job. I don’t get you boy.” He smirked. “I brought you a little something from the raid, she down in the brig. Try and act like are one of my lieutenants in future?”
Edward looked at his father. “You did what?” he asked incredulously.
”The pretty young thing you were eyeing… one of the passengers.” His father waved dismissively without looking up from his charts.
Edward left his father’s cabin without another word.
Peter came round in a dark, damp room. He was still at sea; the gentle rolling had become easily recognisable during the voyage. Peter took a deep breath of musty air… at least he tried: For some reason he was unable to breathe deeply, and his chest felt sore. Reaching up, he felt his chest and found it encased in the stay his mother had laced him into earlier. Sitting bolt upright on the bench, the memories came flooding back to him. He was dressed as a girl, and had been taken prisoner by pirates, who assumed he was a girl. Abigail… his name was Abigail. He had to start thinking like a girl if he was going to survive this. How did girls think? He wasn’t sure.
Abigail looked around her. She was in a cell, in the hull of a ship. She seemed to be alone. There were barrels and crates around the hold. There was noise coming from above; all the regular sounds of a ship at sea that she had become accustomed too. Abigail was terrified. Where was her mother? Would she see her again? Would she ever see her father? Why was she thinking in feminine pronouns? Fingering the lacy hem of her dress, she thought for a moment. She didn’t look like a peter, or a he… and there was something unexplainably right about how she was dressed. As if the change of clothes had cleared a fog in her mind.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet on the steps at the end of the hold and the sound of keys in the lock. Abigail slipped her legs off the bench and slipped into the gloom at the rear of her cell. She didn’t know who was coming, but she had a good idea what happened to girls taken by pirates, and it wasn’t related to tea parties or puppies.
Footsteps rang off the deck as she cowered in the darkness. The young officer that had protected herself and her mother appeared out of the gloom.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She whimpered quietly. “I.. I’ll do whatever you want.”
The man looked at her for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied softly, unlocking the door and stepping into the cell. Abigail pulled herself up flatter against the bulkhead.
“Please.” He repeated. “I just want to talk to you. I didn’t know you had been taken.”
Abigail relaxed a little. The man clearly didn’t intend to rape her immediately, which was a small mercy she thought.
The man approached and offered her his hand. “Here.” He said. “Allow me.”
Accepting it with a half smile, Abigail regained her feet. Her hand still in his, she followed him across the cell to the small bench she had woken on. Sitting as demurely as she could, she turned to face the young officer as he began to speak.
“Look, I wanted to apologise. I… My father.. Captain Brand… He took you because of me.” The man said slowly. “He thought I liked you, so… I’m so sorry.” The young man replied, a blush rising in his cheeks.
Abigail looked at the young officer. He was stammering and blushing like a boy with a crush. Well he was a boy with a crush… Wait… He was? She was it…. Abigail was torn by conflicting emotions; the realisation that someone liked her made her heart flutter happily. However, the fact it was a boy made her worry. In the short time she had been a girl, it had felt sort of normal, but she knew this was just a dream… an imaginary moment that would not last. This was all wrong… this morning, he had been a normal boy. Hah, that was a lie, he had been far from normal. Fragile, feminine, pretty, not a normal boy at all… But did that make him a girl? Abigail realised that morning, when her mother tried to protect her, that she was not a boy. This felt right. She felt whole for the first time in her miserable existence. It seemed odd, strange, disturbing, but she knew now that she had to exist by the moment, it was the only way forwards.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, staring at her with a curious expression on his face. “You looked so thoughtful.” He said.
“I.. I miss my mother. And… and I’m scared.” Abigail replied quietly. “I’m sorry, I’ve not been abducted by many pirates, and I… I don’t know.”
Edward reached out and took Abigail’s hand. “I promise I will let nothing happen to you. I got you into this, and on my word as a Gentleman I will get you out.”
Abigail was beginning to like the young lieutenant. He was a kind man, and he was quite handsome she observed.
“Look, You Can’t stay here.” He announced getting to his feet. “You will have my cabin, and I will see you set to rights once we reach port.” he said, offering Abigail his hand.
Taking the Lieutenant’s hand, she rose and followed him from the dank cell.
The two made their way along dark passageways in the hold of the ship before reaching a staircase at what must have been the stern. Lieutenant Martins lead the young woman up towards the officers quarters and led her into a small but comfortable Cabin.
”Here is my cabin, I.. I’m sorry its not much, but its all I can offer.” He replied sheepishly. “I suppose you would like to rest now, I’ll bring you some food in a while if you’d like.”
Abigail nodded silently, biting her lip, and watched the man leave the cabin, closing the door behind himself.
Finally alone, she sat heavily and in a decidedly unfeminine manner on the bunk. Tears rolled from her eyes as she awkwardly unfastened the dress and let it slip from her body, Sobbing with effort and stress, she fought with the stay’s laces and finally freed herself from its grip. Slumping onto the bunk, she was soon fast asleep.
Abigail woke several hours later feeling groggy. She listened again for the sound that had woken her. There was another knock at the door.
Slipping her feet off the bunk, she pulled the dress over her shift and held it closed as she approached the door. . She knew enough to not answer the door in her underwear.
Opening the door, she saw a young woman, perhaps 20, or 21. The woman was dressed similarly to the crew she had seen. Tunic, loose trousers and her hair tied back under a scarf. Abigail’s confusion must have been obvious. The woman smiled.
“I’m Hannah. Lieutenant Martins asked me to come down and check on you.”
Abigail held the door open and invited the young woman into the cabin.
”He wanted me to help you get cleaned up, he wanted you to eat with the cap’n and the officers later.” She announced shaking a small canvas bag she held.
“I don’t have much, but he figured that you didn’t have anything to get cleaned up with.”
“I, ah, thank you.” Abigail answered quietly.
Hannah looked at her with an expression Abigail wasn’t quite sure of. Before she had chance to decipher it, the young woman had gathered her in a tight embrace.
”I know how you feel sweetie” she said softly. “I lost my parents when I was about your age. It’s scary being alone in the world.”
”My parents aren’t lost.” Abigail whispered. “We were travelling to Barbados to meet my father, and my mother… I don’t know…” she trailed off sadly.
Hannah squeezed her tightly. “The Cap’n left the ship sailing, so there is a good chance your parents will be alive and well in Barbados, but I don’t know when we will make port, much less when you can find a ship back to them. I know the lieutenant said he will get you back, but you got to understand it’s a long shot honey.”
Abigail slipped from Hannah’s embrace and frowned. “I guess.” She mumbled. “This is all still so sudden for me. I’ve not had much chance to think.”
“Lets get you cleaned up huh?.” Smiled Hannah, in a less than subtle attempt at changing the topic.
Hannah brushed out Abigail’s hair with her worn brush, and using the pale of water in the well on the dresser, helped her clean the smudged and run makeup off her face.
Abigail felt a great deal better as the older girl helped her, Hannah almost felt like a big sister. She had never expected to find a woman aboard a pirate ship, such things were never told of in the stories back home. Pirates were all rapists, murderers, violent nasty smelly men. The captains barbarous, vindictive and cruel. But these people… they were different, more like normal people.
Hannah picked up Abigail’s stay and began to loosen the laces so she could fasten it once more.
“Such beautiful clothes.” She mused quietly. “I wish I had such finery.”
“You would not lust after it if you had worn such thing.” She smiled. Even in her limited experience, Abigail had gained a deep empathy with other women with regards to the clothing expected of them. Stay’s were torturous things. Perhaps she could get some clothes like Hannah? But then, Hannah was a real girl, and the clothes were the only things that made her body appear feminine she thought with a sigh.
Lacing the girl into her stay, and fastening the buttons of the dress, she helped Abigail tidy her hair and pronounced the girl fit for an audience with the captain.
The two made their way up towards the main deck of the ship. It was early evening, and the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. A skeleton crew manned the deck and helm, keeping things in check.
Hannah led Abigail through a door towards the stern and into the captain’s quarters.
“She’s here Sir.” She announced before giving Abigail’s hand a squeeze and disappearing out the door.
Abigail stood awkwardly in the candle light of the cabin. 6 men sat around a table with the Captain at its head.
Lieutenant Martins stood and made his way over to her. “Captain, men, I’d like to Introduce Miss Abigail Goldwyn.”
There was a round of murmurs as the other officers rose and greeted her. The Captain looked… well she couldn’t quite describe it. He looked funny… It was almost as if he wanted to speak, but was holding his tongue.
Lieutenant Martins lead Abigail to a place at the table and held her chair for her. Aware she was under the intense scrutiny of the men present, Abigail tried to be as graceful and feminine as possible, Copying the way her mother behaved at formal dinners in the past.
Throughout the dinner, she was engaged by many of the men at the table, in various questions of her past, England, and other dinner topics. The captain remained quiet.
Abigail found herself laughing at more and more of the jokes the officers made. They were a friendly group, and none of them seemed to make any advances. As much as she missed her mother, she knew that she would have to be strong to make it back to her. Perhaps she could learn to enjoy this? She wasn’t treated like a prisoner, more a guest. As the dinner drew to a close. She withdrew as her mother and the other women always had to leave the men to their drinking and man time. Thanking the captain and officers, she asked The lieutenant to escort her back to her cabin. He was only to pleased to assist.
Reaching the cabin, Abigail caught Lieutenant Martins looking at her and smiled at him. As much as reality told her not to. She felt increasingly smitten by the young man. His handsome features were looking down on her with a mixture of kindness and appreciation. The man was clearly searching for something to say. Her body took over and Abigail found herself reaching onto her tiptoes to touch her lips to his. She melted into his encircling arms. Reality be damned…