When I came on board the ship Acies Mentis, in Liverpool. I had one simple plan, desiring more than anything to finally to be out from under my mothers stern gaze and influence, I was to make myself a man. After being babied and pampered into the appearance of a proper young Lady, protected all my life in the atmosphere of my mother and auntie.

This story has been along time in coming. And before it was even considered that I post it for others to read, I had to get it edited and proofed. For that I have to very humbly thank Wren Phoenix, JessicaNicole, Cyclist, Nick B, GwenBrown, and last but certainly not least DorothyColleen. Everyone of them provided invaluable suggestions and ideas. I hope that my efforts working from those suggestions were not in vain. Thank You All,Very Much.
Danielle_O

Journal entry January 22, 1878 aboard the sailing vessel Acies Mentis
Off the coast of Guiana, South America

Today dawned clear and hot. We have made easy sailing from Cuba. And the crew is very anxious to get home to Liverpoole. We have one quick port of call in Cartagena, then with the goods we’ll receive (silks and china from the Portabella crossing point of the isthmus of Panama) for our load of manufactured goods from England and France, we should be able to sail home on the northlies along the coast of the United States then across to Liverpoole.
The Mistress has been restless and indisposed these past few days and hasn’t been on deck or invited guests to her cabin for Tea as she was wont to do normally.
Even Lisele has been worried, since they are inseparable and both are apparently sharing the same malady. The Captain Tibbidoe is worried that she may have the fever.
Yellow fever was reported in Cuba two days before we sailed. She had been in Havana the night before we sailed to purchase a new dress and parasol. And to say the least the crew is very concerned as well, if it was to transpire that Allyson Sophié Rachélle Marcéau-Chantil were to die or become completely incompasitated then this voyage may end in more misery and death than this ship could bear.
Even though she is not really a female and dresses for this part in the most elegant clothing, always showing the men the best ideal of a woman ~ having been compelled to do so. She is the ships good luck talisman. The outcome of this voyage is very much dependent on her being able to fulfill her duties as the charm of this crew. There are many who would suffer greatly if she was to pass into death. Sailors can be a very superstitious lot. This crew and ship as well as the captain depend on her well being to a great degree.

Her importance cannot be overstated.

Journal entry January 28,1878 aboard the sailing vessel Acies Mentis
Off the coast of Guiana, South America

The news today is very good, for it appears that Mistress Allyson and her companion Lisele have recovered from the Yellow Fever. The ships crew and even the Captain are jubilant, the crews joy is very apparent, there has been dancing and music on deck all through the morning watch.
This is very good news, ultimately it means this voyage and ship are going to be as blessed as the last eight years has been. Allyson has proven this time and time again. As the news spread though-out the ship there was a palatable sigh of relief. Even from myself, the lowly 2nd rate sailing master.

Excerpts from a journal found washed ashore on a Florida beach ~ Fall 1888

Mother and Auntie

When I came on board the ship Acies Mentis, in Liverpoole. I had one simple plan, desiring more than anything to finally to be out from under my mothers stern gaze and influence, I was to make myself a man. After being babied and pampered into the appearance of a proper young Lady, protected all my life in the atmosphere of my mother and auntie, who smothered me in dainty clothes and finery that only a pansy faire-boy would love.

Dressed as a proper young lady, I was now being taught, and was going to be a proper young lady.

My mother and auntie had told me specially that I was not to try doing boys things anymore and that included going outside without an adult accompanying me , as if I would be caught outside dressed as I was.

I was not allowed any boys clothes at all - all my own had been hidden away so that I would not be tempted to regress into a dirty foul tempered male! I could not just take off to the outskirts of the estate and merrily prance through the trees with the local lads, yelling and rough playing almost exclusively designed for boys. Mother had told me that I had become too unmanageable and that I needed to be taught some lessons in manners and nobility, so that I may someday take my place in society, but what she really meant was, some lessons in feminine deportment and submissiveness so that I could someday marry into society.

They laid down what they called “The Household Laws”--rules and that I called tyranny and injustice, well that may be a slight exaggeration but these laws really restricted me, what I wore, where I went, whom I spoke to, these were all controlled by my mother and auntie.

And I didn't like it one bit… I did learn to love the clothing and even to relish those feelings and desires for the silks and satins, lovely dresses and bonnets, luxurious bed clothes and that beautiful feminine feeling and aura. And if I must say at fifteen years old, well almost, three months shy of fifteen, 59’’ tall and six stone, seven pounds wet and still having the peach blush to my face that one always associated with youth, I was told I was very good looking as my petite frame and soft feminine face lent themselves readily to being dressed as a young girl, also to my shame and embarrassment I had some small bumps developing on my chest that my mother had smiled proudly at when I finally did tell her.

But never for the rest of what they were trying so well to push me into doing; manners at tea, polite small talk in mixed company, embroidery and sewing, caring for small children, running a married ladies household, duties of a wife and mother. It goes on and on. Some I just had to blush at. And pray that I could vex her plan in some way, with plans of my own design.

I had hoped in the beginning of 1867 that this dressing was only until my mother got over her grief for my father. Who had suddenly been taken from us. As fate would have it while on a business trip to Germany during the previous summer. But then as her grief had remorsefully gripped her, she would have nothing to do with my turning back, they didn't want me to stop. That’s originally why my Auntie had come to live with us, to comfort her sister and how I slowly came under their combined spell. A spell of slow but sure feminization and submission to the will of the stronger, which it looked like they were not grooming me to be.

I was taught to move gracefully and speak as an upper class or Noble ladies would, but to always differ to MEN. This was intolerable to me, I was a man myself or would be as soon as I could get my mother to break away from her grief over the loss of my Father. I could not believe that she intended for me to not grow up as a young male should, to be stalwart and stand on his own feet, to meet the challenges of the day by taking over my fathers interests in the business world. Thereby making my Mother proud of her son and leading the Roth family to greater stature in society, by dint of a successful marriage to a fine young filly of breeding and culture.

But I had a plan and I think it would have worked well, however I never got the chance to find out. I had hoped to get further than I did those first few hours, I had to go on the spur of the moment, so I had none of the money or clothing that I had secretly stolen and hidden so carefully. But because of the news that I had just overheard from the living room, where my mother and auntie were entertaining some guests. I had not been invited to this or heard any mention earlier today or any day, that we would have visitors today. Usually if people came to call on my mother or auntie, I was required to attend to them dressed and coiffured, reserved and mannered. Which I despised for it was such a lie, and embarrassed me in front of other people, even if they did know mother.

So this time was different and for that I was happy at the time. Now I'm not sure if I should regret it or not.

But, as I passed the living room doors which were shut, I paused and cocked an ear and overhearing what I did, can anyone blame me for running as far and as fast as I could get away for that place?

The audacity of it …my mother was planning with someone to give me a debutante’s coming out and wanted Lady Fernlap to make sure that her son (who was of marriageable age) was in attendance as well as Lady Pressdon’s son. She was trying to show me off in the hopes of one or more of those young males would take a liking to me, begin courting me and then become engaged and then I'm sure as the culmination of their scheme, that they were thinking of marrying me to that young man - like a prize peacock - showing me off to the princlings!

Dressed as an refined young lady, ME ! A boy engaged to be married to another boy, well young men. With or without their knowledge of what I was,….a boy dressing up as a girl. I didn’t want this, any of it, by staying here I was slowing becoming what my Mother and Auntie wanted me to be; another alliance to promote the bloodline. Even though they had to change my sex to do so.

They were discussing how to align themselves and strengthen the family bonds through marriage of their sons to me. They being poor Lords who had lost money and prestige in the last land speculation debacle. With this marriage and the dowry my mother promised them they could renew their status and prestige.
WHAT? This was me - they were calmly discussing, as if I was somehow a natural female and wanted to get married and I was being married off to a good family. Just the audacity of their thinking that was astonishing!

Why would they want to do that? I was a fine dutiful young man with prospects for a good future…I only dressed like a young lady to help my mother over her loss. Not that I didn’t enjoy it at times, but they were talking like I would be a...true woman in all the respects, of my husband bedding me regularly. Me a male myself, I knew what I was, so I wasn’t as masculine as they were or as business smart. But I didn’t have to be, I was not employed at anything - as I and my mother could live off my fathers inheritance for the rest of our lives. I had looked ahead at the life of college and study to take on the business interests of my father. Leading a life ease and privilege that was in front of me with the typical upper-class arrogance and disdain. This was what I deserved and that was what was due me.

My mother was arranging to use me to promote some family alliance, that frankly scared me silly. I stood outside that door shaking in my blue silk and crepe summer frock, quaking to my petite boots, up and down my corseted spine, shaking my four petticoats and breathing shallowly so as not to faint right there in front of THAT door.

But now that it was all changed. The epiphany that slapped me in the face, and forced me to look at the reality of my situation. My mother and auntie wanted my life to move in the direction of assuming the role of wife to a young Lord. Well I did like these clothes and I was beautiful according to my mother and auntie, but this…this was beyond anything that I had imagined. I couldn’t do this, I quickly envisioned a slobbering boy pawing at my dainties, lusting to paw me! No this was not going to be my fate, I would have to run.

I was scared now, really scared that all this was revealing itself and I was nothing but a pawn for my mother to move at will.

Escape

I was sure now, I had heard enough to convince me that I had to flee and quickly at that, so I bolted. Down to the basement and the clothes I kept hidden there. Damn,.. There’s Freddie the dustman’s kid, I couldn’t change down here - he would raise the alarm, the sniveling little twit. All the servants had been warned and cautioned to watch me for any unladylike behavior.

So out to the stables I had to go, I knew that some clothes were thrown into a side room most times. It was coming on to evening and the shadows were getting long and the corners darker. I would have no problems about being seen surreptitiously sliding into the shadows and then edging into the side door of the stables.

My mother and her cronies had talked for along time as I stood rooted outside the living room doors. That was actually good - perhaps that would delay pursuit,...if there was a pursuit. Entering the small door next to the tack room and looking around, I got lucky and found some trousers and other clothes to borrow, on a table with some other items that may prove useful. Including a small but sharp knife, I picked it all up.

I ducked into one of the empty stalls and quick as I could stripped off the gown and petticoats I had been dressed in this afternoon (which wasn’t easy except for the knife) straight down my chest between my mounds to my crotch I cut a wide swath through that satin bodice piece and corset clasps. Aahh ! Ooh the release was nice, quickly now get dressed, I did, wasting no time worrying about the state of cleanliness of these raggedly things I was changing into. Or whether they were to big or small. The pants were very tight and short they only came down to just past my knees. Midget pants - I had to get the smallest pair in the world. The undershirt was tight as well, and dirty but the dirty torn shirt and light but equally filthy coat fit with lots of room. It all smelled of horses and barns. Tucking the knife in my rope belt under the filthy coat and loose shirt, after cutting those dainty heeled button-on boots, my feet felt free, the boots I had found were very much too large but I knew I could manage. I was satisfied that this would have to do.

Turning to my hair which auntie always dressed in the mornings, I pulled all the pins and combs holding the style together and felt my long blonde locks tumble down past my shoulders to the middle of my back. I had not been allowed to cut my hair as close as normal boys wore, my guardians preferred my hair long so that is how I had not cut it in almost four years. Looping it up and hiding it under a cap that was hanging on a nail in the tack room. Stooping to pick up a handful of dirt from the floor , I used this to rub into my face to hide the cosmetics and makeup, around my neck and then both hands, I had to match my dirty clothing. I would have been caught very quickly if I had not done this - for a clean face and hands with raggedly dirty clothes would have been as obvious as a corpse at a christening.

It would have to do. I went to the back of the sables and left as quietly as I could. Slipping out and furtively scanning the vicinity for anyone who may want to detain me or who was looking for me. For if my auntie was on her schedule, she would not find me in my femininely decorated bedroom preparing to dress for dinner.

Keeping to the shadows I ducked into the trees, and by orienting myself to the North Star, steered a line to the southwest to intersect the road to Liverpool and keep me mostly out of sight until the moon had gone down, I was hoping to have made it to the road by then. Moving quickly through the trees as they spaced themselves out into a deeper older forest. Lacking underbrush to hinder me, I made good time and soon found the road. I hid myself in a large thicket off the dirt road some what to catch some sleep.

Waking up I was slightly disoriented, not knowing exactly where I was. It was still dark out, no moon, just Venus on the horizon, to throw some small illumination on the ribbon of road slightly askew of a straight line to her. Standing and stretching my limbs to then move down the ribbon before me in quick youthful strides. Now I was hungry, not having eaten anything since lunch yesterday. When my mother had again demanded that I take smaller bites and eat gracefully, not like a grazing cow.

I stopped only long enough to steal some apples from a roadside orchard, early that morning as I was still walking …as I had the whole morning, dashing off the roadway whenever a carriage approached or I heard some rider coming. I made it into Liverpool later that morning.

On my way I briskly walked to take some of the morning chill out of my bones, I had only slept a few fitful hours, wanting to be long and gone before pursuit could be organized and to get warmer in the mean time. I didn’t know if my mother would organize a pursuit or just write me off. She may not even know I have run away, my mother and auntie may have gone to bed thinking that I had been in my room sleeping all night. They may not even know I’m gone even now so early in the morning that in all probability no one has thought yet to awaken me.

Who was I trying to fool? One or the other of them would have at least checked to see if I was in my room either before dinner or right after to help me prepare for bed or an evening of lessons in the den under their watchful gaze.

No the alarm most certainly had been raised, the only uncertain factor was whether my mother and auntie were willing to pursue their runaway charge. And to what degree, my pursuer was determined to catch up with me. That is why I scampered into the roadside heath whenever I heard a carriage or horses. I knew that if I was seen on the road it would be a dead give-away to someone in pursuit. I had to make it to the city to lose myself in the crowds and alleyways.

The Liverpool city that I found and traversed to find the docks, was confusing and crowded, dirty, smelly and not like I had envisioned at all. Disillusioned and broken by the city’s callousness to me, everyone was brisk, rude and indifferent to me. I had had nothing to eat but a few small apples since the sun rose this morning. I had no money to purchase a biscuit or pie to fill my rumbling stomach, I just trudged on.

Asking and receiving directions which confused and befuddled me, finding myself lost and depressed. The streets and alleys started to close in on me and I was feeling defeated by this sprawl of humanity and squalor. I do believe that I walked the whole city, and couldn’t understand how I had missed something as large and busy as the docks and harbor of Liverpool.

Finding the docks was one thing but getting on a ship was a whole other matter, and it soon looked hopeless. I was going to have to sign on to some ship as a lowly hand, who knew nothing of the sea or how to sail or even how to walk on-board a ship. I was hoping against hope that there was some vessel that would take me on so that I might learn to be a sailor and finish making a man of me.

Then, rounding the corner of a particularly nasty foul smelling alley, I saw laid out in front of me the bay and harbor of Liverpool. I almost shouted. Not that it would have made a difference to the general overall din of noise rising from any number of industrious people building, hauling and moving about their daily business of scratching a living in various trades and workshops catering to the harbor in general and the shipping trade in particular.

The Docks

I made it to the docks and tried to spy out what ship was leaving soon so that I could really be a man at last, working a ship with other men. Walking up and down the dock and wharfs didn’t shed any light on how I was going to get to sign on to any ship. I kept trying to decide what to do.

Well into the afternoon, I still had not found out when any of the ships was sailing. But I happened at last to find a ship’s chandlery shop and that had posted on their notice board some of the ships arrival and departures (at least the ones they knew of). From this I learned that the merchant vessel Acies Mentis was sailing that evening, if the tide was right and they had taken on enough hands. That was the ticket for me they were already looking for additional hands and here I was. This was an ideal oppurtunity, I could sign on as a hand and avoid altogether any pursuit that may have been mounted to find and return me to my mother’s care. I just hoped that I wasn’t too late, and there were still berths available.

Moving down the Charlington wharf that the Acies Mentis was berthed at, just as I was coming up to the bowsprit, I was accosted by some street ruffians. They emerged from the shipping detris on the dock itself crates, barrels and boxes stacked high enough to hide them from view. Damn I thought I had left all that behind me in the town and those alleys. There were twelve of them, ringed around me quickly from small ones to tall, They were all dressed in ragged and dirty clothes, the largest one of course started things off with a look of disgust at me.

”Lookee whot we got ‘ear. A small widdle boy dressed in daddies coat.”
They generally jeered at me and pushed me around until the largest of them and obviously the leader, dressed in blackened rags that stank of rotten fish, looked me in the face and spat “Fairie-pants, look et hees pants, tare above hees knees an ehs got no socks!”

Quickly reaching out and snatching my cap off. He recoiled as my long hair tumbled out, released from the confines of the cap. He stood gaping at me for a few seconds then shouted “ees a gorl!” At that I tried to grab my cap back from him, only eliciting a further burst of laughter. He held it above my head out of my reach and teased me with more taunts. “kum on jump fer it”

They all burst into laughter at that, I cringed back awaiting their next move.
Grabbing my shirt front Fishrags tore upwards and my already ragged shirt and coat gave way to this force and left me standing in my torn undershirt, my prepubescent buds showing through the thin material …I lashed out with my hands and feet, connecting but not hurting him in the least … his hand flew and my head rocked sideways. Pain, woozy and now really scared, I instinctively lashed out again at Fishrags, the only way I knew I kicked him in the shin. This naturally enraged him.

Not even thinking of the knife in my belt or that I could have defended myself well with it.

But he laughed, they all joined in. Here he was trying to show his lads what a sissy boy I was and then turned out to be a little girl. But worse, I had the turbidity to kick him in the shins. Still clutching my shirt front he reached his arm back to give me another swat that would have left me in the water, over the edge of the wharf. I tensed with fear and timidity, waiting for the blow.
A hand out of no-where stopped him as he brought the hand forward. I had tried to prepare for the inevitable blow I squeezed my eyes shut and whimpered. I heard a smoothly deep voice though my tightly clenched eyes asking me if I was alright? I must have shut them quickly when I had anticipated the punch. My eyes opened to see a tall man in a ships coat and cap, bending down and speaking quietly.

“Hello …names Harris, Purser from the Acies. Are you going to be o.k.? Why don’t you step on-board and I can have some water brought to you, while you sit and recover yourself”.

I looked around and there wasn’t a soul within 50 feet of this Harris and I, where had all those ragamuffins got to so quickly ?

“What…where did they…?” I stammered, then shivered where I stood. I Leaned down to collect my coat and shirt, now useless rags. When suddenly “aoohhh” the blood rushed to my head and I fell over, the man Harris caught me in time to stop my impact with the dock but not before my head started to pound blood into my ears and throb in pain. I know I moaned and staggered.

Still dazed from my first ever wicked slap, I made no move and said nothing, I couldn’t, I was numb and scared still shaking slightly and perspiring.
“Come on laddie ..Here you go…I’ve got you” as he effortlessly picked me up in both arms cradled to his chest looking up at him in a daze. He carried me up the gangplank to the quarterdeck of the Acies Mentis. Set me down on a barrel in the shade and had a boy running for water before I could utter another word.

The Ship

When the scurrying lad came back he didn’t have a cup or jug of water, but a glass of lemonade. Where he had come by this I couldn’t imagine but I did thank him and took a large swallow to quench my thirst. It was good despite the slightly different taste.

Harris was talking “This ship is the Acies Mentis. That’s Latin for penetration, but I don’t expect you to know that.”

He was obviously judging me by the clothes I wore, the ragged and torn shirt and trousers. Labeling me in his mind a street urchin, I wasn’t about to discourage him of this notion until I was able to find out more. I really did know Latin but to tell him this would have perhaps put him on guard and may have even persuaded him to do something other than allow me aboard. Perhaps turn me over to the authorities.

He carried on nonetheless “and is in good shape and a former East Indiaman of 28 guns - at 150 feet long and beamed at 42 feet. Built in 1841, in the Thames workshop of Master James Hornblower. The Acies had been overbuilt, originally designed for 38 guns she was bigger than she needed to be for 28. but this only worked to her advantage. She was well appointed to the task of ferrying cargo as well as passengers.” He had added that last part quickly and easily. “She only needs to have more hands to man the sails. These will be experienced men mostly, but we’ll get the ones we need. And we’re scheduled to leave this evening on the tide.”

All this time the Purser was telling me these facts as I recovered my wind and sipped more lemonade with a wedge of real lemon in a real glass, not a tarred mug like the common sailors used.

I was impressed and told the Purser that “if everything on this ship was as squared away as he was, then it must sail like the wind.” And be very successful I thought to myself.

Here was a way to get clear of my mother- become a man, earn some decent money, now it looked as if things were falling my way, my dreams told me. So the inevitable happened.

I told him of my intention to sign on with some ship that was sailing soon.
And he acted very concerned. Saying “I just know that you would want to find a good ship with a fine company of sailing men. And I was just wondering if this ship may fit your needs. We are signing on hands right now and we are scheduled to sail with this evenings tide, so perhaps this ship would do just nicely for you, me laddie”.

I answered the only thing that I could under these circumstances, I said. “I would be more than happy to sign aboard the Acies Mentis”. As I had seen first hand, how the ship was run and guessed at what provisions could be aboard if I was served lemonade in a glass.

The Purser was only too happy to sign Charles Roth, me up (he smiled widely when he heard my name) as an apprentice sailor and made me the Starboard mess boy right off. Being only 14 and small he told me I could not get a higher paying rating until I had worked my way up and learned at the very least some basic knowledge of sailing a ship.

This was a far cry from what I was used to at home under the direction of my mother and auntie.

After I had signed a paper, that I didn’t hesitate not to read. I was shown the way to the berthing deck and a hammock that I was to use and told to check a near by locker for any suitable clothes, since all I had on was the short trousers and ripped shirt that those street thugs had left me with. Once I had found something and squared myself away. The Purser then showed me where my work station was, the chief cook was put in charge of me to show me what I was to do as mess boy. Pretty mundane stuff carrying dishes and cleaning up after the officers, this was almost too easy, there were two of us mess boys and only enough work for one really, but I said nothing for fear of spoiling and loosing the easy time I had and getting a job at something I couldn’t do.. Generally the ship was clean and well ordered everything in its place and functional.
We did make sail that evening with much shouting and running about we slipped from the berth slowly making way for the deeper channel, and with the freshening breeze we cleared the harbour just as the suns rim was hitting the edge of the Irish Sea. The sails were soon set and I breathed a sign of relief, I made it …not really sure I should have signed on but wanting to make my dream become reality, I was not really sure I should have left everything and every one I knew so abruptly.

I wasn’t even sure that my mother and auntie had tried to find me or what if any pursuit there had been. This made me feel unloved and unwanted, rejected by the people who had more reason to care, then any others. I still would not go back to being ruled over by both my mother and my auntie.

As I looked back at the wharf we had just slipped out of. There was a group of men dressed in black with domed hats, badges glinting in the setting sun, shouting at the ship, and gesturing that it should come back to the wharf, as we picked up speed in the freshening breeze. I realized then that they were Peelers and they wanted something from the Acies Mentis, me! I ducked below the railing hoping that they had not seen me or recognized me as being aboard.
There had been a pursuit…that in it-self warmed my heart. I wonder now if mother really wanted me back or if it would just look bad that she had proposed me in marriage to a young gentleman and I had runaway by ship. Her social standing would probably suffer because of me. That had a nice ring to it coming from the unreasonable side of my brain.

But why had she done this in the first place?

Didn’t I rate to be told what she had in mind for my future?

Was I not to be consulted, in her grand scheme at all?

Did she see my prospects as a man to be that terrible?

And if so what in blazes gave her the right to change my life, change me into a simpering country Lords wife or mistress? Without so much a a how-de-do to ask or tell me what her plans were, or if I had a choice in this or not!

Then coming to the conclusion at last that it was fish or cut bait and I had an adventure ahead of me. I couldn’t turn back, even if I wanted to. The ship and crew wouldn’t kill me as long as I did my work and caused no mischief - then I would grow and learn to be a Sailing Master. I had a new outlook...All forward (although a shy look).

First Meeting With The Captain

My position as the mess boy placed me with the crew but also in the company of the officers, and the Captain and as a witness to some of his twisted depravity.

Being only 14 and small and thin I could not yet work the decks as I basically knew nothing of the workings or running of a sailing ship, and couldn’t haul on ropes or handle canvas. So the purser had made me a mess boy for the Captain and officers, and that was working out well.

My clothing had been changed; I now had a pair of brown canvas trousers rolled up at the cuffs. And a woolen undershirt and a heavier outer wool shirt, I had found a jerkin vest of soft leather with darts and I had washed the grime from my face and hands. My long hair I had not cut, for two reasons; first, many of the older sailors aboard have long hair, but mine was still longer than theirs so it would have raised some questions! I just wanted to blend in with everyone. And second, I liked my long hair, so I just tied it at the neck like the other men. Left to dangle loose down the center of my back, the blonde bundle of hair hung like a thick rope end from the back of my head.

I had managed to avoid being noticed for the first day after leaving Liverpool, I occupied my time learning my way around the different areas of the ship so I could avoid getting lost and have to ask some older, taller more experienced sailor where I was and how to get to somewhere else.

Any spare time that I found I had, because being the second mess boy didn’t entail all that much work. I spent on deck looking intently at the horizon or watching the men set a top gallant sail, or any number of activities that happened to be ongoing at the time. Learning all that I could just by watching and listening to the chatter of the fo'c'sle gang.

The Captain was a busy person on a ship and I had missed him until after eight bells in the evening of the first full day. I happened to pass him in the Officers mess and I saw his eyes widen when he first saw me that second evening out from port, he smiled a sweet nasty smile that I soon came to know as particular to him.

He barked. “Stop and come here…….turn around …come on, twirl in place, boy!” when I had turned back to see his face he was still smiling. A round face with white whiskers smiled at me in what seemed like mirth, but was disguised lust deep down.

Then he asked me “what my position was?”

I answered. “I’m the new mess boy, I came on at Liverpool. My name is…”
He just grinned and cut me off with a wave, and turned to the First Officer Brandt who was having a cup of tea and said “not for long you ain’t.” I couldn’t see his face but Brandt was smiling broadly. Shortly after that I had gone to the galley and come back finding them gone. I began clearing and cleaning the one table.

I didn’t know what to make of this rude behavior, but he was an officer and the Captain of he ship. So I passed it off.

That evening as I was on deck and looking longingly at the men heaving on ropes and adjusting the main courses high up in the rigging, the wind blew through my long hair whipping it behind and across my face on occasion, the deck slanting to the left offered a tricky walk so I held onto the rail and those pin things that hold the ropes from the rigging. I was really enjoying the slow up and down of the ship as she rode the waves pushing her way through them cleanly slicing a path. I paused and looked about me noticing for the first time that some of the officers and the men were staring at me intently as I made my way to the bow. I casually glanced around again to make sure I wasn’t mistaken.

No I was right the first time, they were staring. I wondered what they thought, yes sometimes my hair flies loose in the wind and the leather jerkin that I wear has darts as if made for a woman (I had recognized this when I found it in the pile thinking no one would have the slightest idea that this was a garment for a young lady) with breasts and a tapered waist, my face ..free of the grime had returned to its clear cherubic condition that my mother had loved so much. All these things combined told me that I had to be wary of some of these men who so openly stared.

No one approached me on these walks on deck or in the companionways. If I nodded a greeting in passing someone, it was always returned, sometimes with a smile, some turned their heads away but mumbled something in response. Now I was confused, these clothes had been provided for me, but had they been set aside especially for me or did everyone use the same locker when they needed something?

I didn’t have much choice, my previous clothes were rags, and even though I was told to use what I wanted from the locker I still ended up looking like a young girl.

to be continued...