Another chapter. (For those of you waiting for Ch. 2 of Sunny: The Hippie Chick, it will be posted later today): Dawn

Chapter 57 – Back at Sea

The voyage to LakePort went smoothly, with no problems from the repaired ship. It was on the return voyage that things started to go to hell. Jason woke at about 6 p.m. to hear yelling and shouting from the galley. Kookla came out in tears, with the cook following him, berating him wildly.

“It’s all ruined,” the cook yelled. “All of it. This lout washed his dishes in the good water. It’s all soapy and greasy and unfit for drinking and cooking.”

The captain came to the deck rail and tried to get to the bottom of the commotion. Apparently, the water barrels were switched because the main barrel was empty. Thus, the washing up barrel had been moved to the back of the kitchen while the empty barrel was being taken to the hold. At this time Jason took the dishes from the captain’s mess to be washed, and mistakenly used the new water barrel. As he was finishing up, men of the ship who had finished their meals came in, and dropped their tin plates and mugs into that same barrel. Finally, the washup crew dumped soap into the water, polluting it completely. That was when the cook discovered the error and started ranting.

“Report, cook,” the captain ordered. “We are less than a week to WestPort. Surely we can go without drinking water until then.”

“Drinking is not the problem, captain,” the man replied. “We still have the grog supply, so we will have that to moisten our mouths. The problem is that I need water to cook the meals with. The oatmeal and the taters need water to boil in, along with a lot of other stuff. We have biscuits, but without water to wash them down they will be hard to eat.”

The Captain looked at his son. “Cabin boy, your error is serious. On account of your age I will only order five lashes. That will cost you more than 10 for a grown man. And they are to be full lashes, not those soft ‘Jason lashes’.”

Jason was horrified to hear the captain order lashes on his own sun. The boy’s soft skin would be sure to scab for the rest of his life, as well as putting him into sick bay for the rest of the trip, and perhaps the next one. He had to do something.

“Sir,” he shouted. “Permission to speak?”

“Granted.”

“Kookla is under my command, correct? I originally taught him his position.”

“I’m not sure that is right. You were later promoted to mate. And the cabin boy position is not part of your shift.”

“Nor any of the other ones,” Jason pointed out. “As his superior I claim that the boy was not in error, but not trained correctly. Therefore, I accept his punishment on myself for my failure to instruct him properly.”

“No!” screamed Kookla.

“I’m not sure you are right,” the captain said. “But you have studied sea law more than I have so I will accept your request.”

So Jason was again roped to the foremast with his back bared. This time the lashes were not gentle, but bit into his back. Kookla cried out more than Jason did on each of the strokes. Between the pain of the third and fourth lashes Jason had an idea. After the fifth lash his men undid the ropes on his hands, and he slumped to the deck. Normally water would be splashed on his whipped back. But there was no water. And there was no blood, although ugly red welts were rising on his otherwise clear skin. This made Jason think the lashes might have only been half as strong as normal.

He struggled to his feet and turned to the captain: “Sir. I have an idea. Are there not water barrels in the lifeboats?” The captain turned to the cook.

“They aren’t barrels, but small casks. Enough for a few days of water for a crew of 10. But if we used all four casks, then we would have enough water for cooking, and a cup of water a day.

“Do it,” said the captain. Jason limped off to Kalosun and the sick bay while a sobbing Kookla followed, unashamed at crying on deck in front of his father and apologizing to Jason. In the sick bay Kalosun inspected the welts and then gently spread on a salve. “This will ease the pain and help healing, and in a few months, you will never know you were whipped,” the healer said. “I don’t think they were lashing you with full strength, only enough to make it seem so. Everyone on board seems to admire you Jason. I am proud of you.”

The salve seemed to work. By midnight Jason was able to work, with only the smallest twinge when he moved in a certain way. Two days later he was able to climb up to the crow’s-nest of the mainmast, where he still made regular visits with the old sailor on watch. About half an hour in, while relating a story about his whaling days, the man stopped abruptly and pointed,

“Thar’s a whaler out thar,” he pointed to the west. “’E’s chasin’ a big un this way.” Jason watched as the whale ship headed towards them, with three boats in front being rowed. By the time they got close enough to actually see the men in the boats, the harpooners had stood up, ready to throw their spears.

“I knows that whale,” the man in the nest with him said. “See them old ‘poons in ‘is hide? They makes a kinda ‘V’ shape. That whale is surely Victory John. Men ‘ve bin after her for years. She’s a mean un.”

Jason watched in amazement. All three boats threw harpoons at the same time, but the whale submerged before any reached her. For one minute, two minutes: the great beast was hidden. Then it appeared, more than halfway between the boats and the whale ship. The boats turned around, not an easy task on the ocean, and headed back to the ship. The whale was faster. A hundred yards from the ship it submerged again, but only for a few seconds. Then it leapt out of the water directly at the ship. It landed with a crash on top of the deck, flinging its huge tail left and right, knocking down two of the masts and most of the forecastle. Then it slithered off the deck and back into the water. Seconds later it could be seen swimming away to the north.

The ship was in ruins. It was clear that the side the whale had hit was nearly destroyed, with water gushing in. The crew on the ship was letting down a lifeboat from the forecastle. Another smaller group of men ran to a boat on the prow: they were unable to climb the destroyed stairs to the forecastle. Both boats were lowered into the water and managed to row a few yards away before the whale ship sank with a sucking noise as water rushed in.

The Sun Goddess had already turned and headed towards the vessel in distress. It reached the whale boats first. Each had eight men rowing, and the harpoon man, all Kithrens. Each boat also had a white man on the tiller. One at a time the men on the boats were rescued. The tiller man and harpooners were able to climb up ropes thrown down. The rowers had to wait for three ladders to be thrown over the side. Their arms were too tired from rowing to pull themselves up on ropes.

The last two boats were rescued at the same time. The one from the stern had five white men aboard, including the captain. The fore crew was four men, also white.

The whaler captain looked around the Sun Goddess, surprised to see only Kithrens. He immediately decided that the ship was captainless. After all, who had heard of a Kithren captain? So he decided to take charge.

“Change heading to the north,” he yelled at the steersman. “We can still catch that bugger. You lot, bring the whale boats on board. We’re going to need them.”

“As you were,” Captain Keenstone called out to his confused crew.

“Who are you?” the white captain called out at the man countermanding his orders.

“I am the captain of this ship,” the captain said. “I’ll thank you to not shout out orders that confuse my men. They answer only to me and my mates.”

“Ridiculous. Men, take that imposter down and lock him in the brig. No Kithren is a captain.”

The other 11 white men started towards the stairway to the forecastle as the white captain looked on smugly. Then he noticed that the rescued Kithren sailors were not joining in. “You lot too,” he shouted, but those men just stood and watch.

Meanwhile, the crew on the forecastle had picked up belaying pins and were picking off the men trying to climb the stairs. Soon men from the deck had also armed themselves and went after the other whites waiting for a chance to climb the ladder. The whites had been rescued with nothing but their clothes, so the battle was short and in two minutes five white sailors lay on the deck, unconscious, and the other six had their hands up in surrender.

“This is mutiny,” the white captain shouted, seconds before a Kithren sailor: one of the rescued men, slapped him across the back of the head with a belaying pin he had picked up, knocking him unconscious. The sailor dropped his pin and spoke: “No. That is mutiny.”

Captain Keenstone spoke next: “Our brig won’t hold more than four, maybe five men. Take the ship’s officers there, and the rest to the owner’s cabin. That door can’t be locked from the outside, so I want four men stationed outside at all times, with knives and belaying pins.

The sailors from the whaler quickly pointed out the ship’s officers, who were hauled down to the brig, with the exception of the unconscious captain who Kalosun felt needed to be taken to the sick bay. Keenstone ordered three guards to accompany him, even though he was no danger at the moment.

“Have you rescued men eaten lately?” the Captain called out.

“No. Not for three days,” a man called out. “That bastard won’t feed us if we lose a whale, and we haven’t been lucky lately.”

“Cooks. Make a batch of porridge for these men. A double batch for these 27 and a single for the others. Throw in a bit of bacon. A cup of water for each. I am sorry men, but we are short of water at the moment. Maybe grog?”

“Captain,” one of the cooks called out. “There is only enough grog for our men. We only make up a certain amount and it won’t handle so many.”

“Okay then. Grog only for the crew. And perhaps one for the sailor who bested his captain. Have food taken to those guards in sick bay.”

The rescued Kithrens immediately started helping out the crew, which was larger than necessary already. But they scrubbed the decks by hand and polished just about every railing and piece of wood on board.

The Sun Goddess docked at WestPort two days later, and Stone was surprised to see so many men he didn’t recognize leave the ship. Nevertheless, he handed a bonus silver to each man, including those rescued. Their ship owner would probably not pay his men for their trip, having suffered the loss of an expensive ship.

The last off were the white men, who did not get a silver. The captain, who had recovered consciousness while the ship was in sight of the port, indignantly berated Stone about the ‘mutiny’ and how poorly he had been treated. Finally Stone had enough, and reached back to grab Pate from her sheath.

“One more word from you and you will watch your head separate from your body,” the big man warned. “Go and explain to your master why you didn’t bring his ship back to port. I suspect that won’t be friendly meeting.”

The captain shut up at that point and scurried away in shame. Being bested by Kithrens was the worst thing he could imagine.

Stone went down to the pay table, where Jason was last in line. Rayla hugged her son, and then let go when he winced in pain from the pressure on his wounds. He had to take off his shirt then and there to show his mother his back, which now had five red welts that were only half healed. Rayla cursed and asked who was responsible.

“I guess that would be me,” Jason said. “I took the blows for another who would not have borne them as well as I could.” With that the family headed back to their house.