The Stolen Heart (7 page)

 

 

Almira got back on deck and stood by in case she was needed for
processing the blubber to render it down into oil. She was sorry she
had not had a chance to wish Jared luck before he had gone out
again. She certainly had plenty to do, but felt oddly at a loose end
as she watched them rowing off into the distance.

 

 

She dragged her attention back to the matter at hand. Once the boat
was gone, the men lowered a cutting in platform down toward the
whale carcass, and the smith stood on it and began to carve into the
blubber with an implement which looked like a hoe.

 

 

After making two big gouges in the side, he bored a hole. The cooper
lowered a huge hook from a winch above their heads, and placed it in
the hole.

 

 

As they cranked the winch, the whale began to turn, and the blubber
began to peel off in huge strips like the rind of an orange.

 

 

After about fifteen feet or so, the smith cut into the strip and cut
a hole in the next piece of blubber sticking up, and began the whole
process all over again. The huge strips, which the smith called
blanket pieces, then went down to the blubber room, where the rest
of the men were assembled. They cut them into smaller ones called
horse pieces, and then laid those onto a cutting table.

 

 

There the horse pieces were hacked into Bible leaves, so-called
because they resembled a fat book with the spine the skin of the
whale. The fires had been lit under the try pots, and the men began
to throw the Bible leaves into them. The once-white sails now became
black with acrid, evil-smelling smoke as they tried the blubber,
rendering it into precious whale oil.

 

 

Al was convinced she was going to choke. She understood the value of
the oil, but had had little idea how arduous and disgusting the task
was to obtain it. Her mother had kept her well away from the try
works, busily working at her lessons and sewing.

 

 

She could see now that had taken a great deal for granted when she
had been living a sheltered life with her parents, kept busy with
the duties of a typical young Victorian woman, spending most of her
time in the cabin with the other children. She had never been out on
the rolling decks awash with sea water, blood, and oil.  
Living ashore these last few years had made her forget the stench
and soot.

 

 

It made her admire her mother all the more, that she had been able
to raise five children, two of them almost to adulthood, without any
major mishaps despite the hardship of life at sea.

 

 

Now that she was working as an ordinary crewman with Jared Starbuck,
she began to appreciate how hard the life was that her father and
Jared had chosen as a young man. A prospective whaler captain not
only had to possess all of the skills required for a good sea
captain, he also had to supervise the trying out and barreling of
the oil like the manager of a factory.

 

 

The ship was really a floating processing plant, and required a
physical prowess and an attention to detail which she imagined most
businessmen on land would be hard-pressed to match.

 

 

As she labored below in the blubber room sharpening the knives by
endlessly turning the handle on the whetstone, the smith shouted a
greeting to the Mate, whose boat was coming in with another whale.

 

 

Mate too went back out immediately with his crew, leaving the smith
and cooper in charge of the cutting in. Almira was sure it was
because he was determined not to be outdone by Jared in any way.

 

 

About an hour later, the second mate came in with his crew and a
whale, but his second attempt to secure a whale resulted in the
whale lobtailing, splashing his flukes down and swamping the boat.

 

 

It was smashed into splinters, and the smith jumped off the cutting
platform and began to run aft.

 

 

“All hands! All hands!”

 

 

Everyone downed tools and ran for the spare boat.

 

 

The smith shouted, “Who can swim?”

 

 

George and Al came forward instantly, and then the steward.

 

 

“Come on, then,” Smith urged.

 

 

They jumped into the boats, splashed down, and began to row like the
devil was after them.

 

 

Almira felt as though she couldn’t breathe, but told herself to be
calm. Second and his crew would know what to do. So long as the huge
tail had not landed directly on them, there was hope.

 

 

Within ten minutes they were at the site of the disaster. They found
Mr. Perkins holding up the head of one of the men in his crew, who
had a huge gash across his forehead.

 

 

Almira heaved a sigh of relief, and began to help haul each man into
the boat by a rope tied around each waist.

 

 

Kind-faced Mr. Perkins, with sandy hair and sea-blue eyes, insisted
on being last into the boat. It was only when he was safely on board
that she saw that his shirt was pink-red with blood. He saw her
looking at him in horror, and grunted, "Stabbed meself on an
oarlock."

 

 

Almira began to tear strips off of the hem of her own shirt to bind
him up, while the more burly men who were fit to row took over the
oars.

 

 

“Thanks, lad. You have a nice light touch. That didn’t hurt a bit.”

 

 

She went over to look at young Bill the greenhand, and carefully
removed the splinters which were protruding from his brow. She
patched him up with another strip from her long baggy shirt while
they headed back to the ship.

 

 

They rowed in relative silence, each man sighing every so often as
they neared the
Trident
. The whales were gone now, and so
was the whaleboat. They had spares, but it was a long journey to
have lost a boat on only their first day out.

 

 

“Not that the Captain will be mad,“ Second reassured them. “He'll
just be glad that we're all safe. You kept together well, and helped
each other when you needed it. Above all. you didn’t panic. Well
done. And to you, Smith, for coming out to get us so fast.”

 

 

“It was the least we could do. Besides, we sort of fancied an ocean
cruise, didn’t we, lads?”

 

 

That managed to rouse a general laugh from the grim-faced men.

 

 

Almira put her back into the rowing and tried not to think how close
the poor men had come to near-disaster.

 

 

When they got back to the ship, the crew went to get the spare
whaleboat down and put it into the brackets where the old one had
been. The ship’s boat was stowed back on the aft bracket, and then
the men all turned to cutting in, hoping to make up the lost boat to
the Captain by working like demons to get the whales stripped and
the blubber tried.

 

 

Smith patted her on the shoulder as he went passed. “You did well,
boy. I'll tell the Captain we’ll make a whaleman of you yet.”

 

 

Almira smiled wanly. “I doubt it somehow, but thanks for saying so.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

After another three hours, the Captain’s boat returned with another
sperm whale. As soon as he heard the news about the lost whaleboat,
Jared personally went to speak with every man in Second’s crew to
make sure they were all right.

 

 

He examined Bill’s head, and insisted on Al fetching the medicine
chest.

 

 

“Are you sure you should be trying out, son?” he asked the injured
crewman.

 

 

“I’m fine, really.”

 

 

Jared shook his head over Second’s more serious injury. “I want you
to just sharpen knives for a while, Perkins. Al can take your place
at the cutter.”

 

 

It was easier said than done, for she could barely reach the table,
let alone get good leverage to cut the horse pieces into Bible
leaves.

 

 

Jared watched and then shook his head. “Right, lad, that’s enough.
You’re too short. Come here and cut these blanket pieces instead.
I’ll do that.”

 

 

They worked closely together side by side, getting more and more
bloody and oily, but Almira thought she had never seen Jared looking
more fine, or more happy.

 

 

He recounted each of the two hunts for her as they worked. She
smiled up at him in fascinated admiration.

 

 

The results were gruesome enough, true, but Jared Starbuck was so
intelligent, and so caring of the men, she could not fault him for
the career he had chosen. It was what he had been born to, the only
life he knew. It was a life her father had loved as well.

 

 

She wondered if Adrian was taking to the sea too. She could
certainly see the allure, though in her case it had more to do with
the handsome captain she served with than the glories of whale
hunting. There was a lot to loathe about the sea as well.

 

 

One of them was the first mate, who returned a short time later, but
without a whale.

 

 

“What happened?” Jared asked in a conversational tone.

 

 

Almira could see Mate bristle at once.

 

 

“He sounded, and the whole bow of the ship was swamped. Barely
escaped going under. Had to cut the line and row all the way back,”
he said defensively.

 

 

“Just as well you didn’t go under. It would have been a worse swim.
Second lost his boat to a huge set of flukes. Impaled himself on the
oarlock. I would appreciate it if your men could relieve some of
them shortly. We haven’t even eaten.”

 

 

This pointed comment was directed at the fact that Mate’s crew had
come aboard and were already having a hot meal, whereas the other
two boat crews had done without hot food or even dry clothing in all
of the excitement of losing the whaleboat and trying to keep the
whole blubber-rendering process running smoothly.

 

 

“Aye, Captain, as soon as we eat-”

 

 

“Very well, but next time, you check with me or Second first as to
what needs doing before you turn off your crew,” Jared commanded in
the most harsh tone Almira had yet heard him use.

 

 

Mate’s cheeks flamed. With a livid look at Al, he stalked off to the
galley to get some food and tell his men not to dawdle.

 

 

Almira knew it would only be a matter of time before Mate took out
his annoyance on her, and tried her best to avoid him down in the
blubber room.

 

 

As soon as First's boat crew came down to relieve them, Jared took
Al by the arm. “You need a rest, boy, before you fall over. Come,
let’s eat.”

 

 

“Really, Captain, I have to pull my weight.”

 

 

“You have, and more. Those blanket pieces weigh more than you do.
Now come, child, and no more arguments. I’m giving you a direct
order.”

 

 

Since he put it like that, she had no other choice but to comply,
and followed him up onto the refreshingly cool deck.

 

 

They went to the galley to get a plate of food apiece, and then sat
side by side companionably atop a barrel on deck as Jared watched
the men cutting in the other whales.

 

 

When they had finished their meal of salt pork and potatoes, he told
her to help put the cooled oil into the barrels with the cooper.

 

 

They headed below into the hold.

 

 

“And watch yourself on the slippery deck,” he warned, before turning
his attention back to his work.

 

 

"Aye, sir. Thank you, sir."

 

 

She treated herself to one last long look at his face, and then went
over to Cooper to offer her services.

 

 

Once down in the blubber room, Jared stripped off his shirt and
labored on half-naked in the fetid hold. Covered in oil, he looked
like a sleek classical athlete, all rippling muscles and smooth
flesh, his trousers riding low on his lean hips.

 

 

Almira's mouth went dry. It was all she could do to not go over and
touch one of his bulging biceps. There was something so elemental
about his bare skin, that she felt as though she were caught in a
swirling vortex of inexplicable yearnings she was only just coming
to understand.

 

 

She admired him with her mind, but her body also seemed to
appreciate him in the most unexpected ways.

 

 

Just then Jared looked up. He smiled at Al, and she waved back.

 

 

The exchange was not lost upon the Mate, however. The first chance
he got to haze the boy, he did so.

 

 

“You, lad. Time to clean the whale heads of their spermaceti oil.
Strip off, now.”

 

 

“Pardon me?” Almira gasped.

 

 

“I said, get your clothes off. Buck naked, now.”

 

 

“I don’t understand. Why-”

 

 

“I’ve told you, the whale heads need emptying of their case oil.
You’re the puniest boy here. You can do it.”

 

 

“I can do it with my clothes on, surely.”

 

 

“Bloody waste of oil and clothes. So strip.”

 

 

When she made no move to obey, he sneered, “Look, you may be the
Captain’s bum boy, but that don’t hold no water with me. You'll do
as you're bloody well told, or get a flogging with the rope's end
you'll never forget!”

 

 

She didn’t understand all he had said, but she could determine his
sheer hatred of both her and the Captain in his tone.