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  Under the Jolly Roger

Being an Business relationship of the Farther Nautical Adventures of Jacky Faber

L.A. Meyer

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Harcourt, Inc.

Orlando Austin New York San Diego Toronto London

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Copyright © 2005 by Fifty. A. Meyer

All rights reserved. No role of this publication may be reproduced

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Harcourt, Inc., 6277 Body of water Harbor Drive, Orlando, Florida 32887-6777.

www.HarcourtBooks.com

First Harcourt paperback edition 2007

The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:

Meyer, 50. A. (Louis A.), 1942–

Under the Jolly Roger: existence an account of the further nautical

adventures of Jacky Faber/L. A. Meyer.—1st ed.

p. cm.

Sequel to: Curse of the blue tattoo.

Summary: In 1804, fifteen-year-erstwhile Jacky Faber heads dorsum to sea where

she gains control of a British warship and eventually becomes a privateer.

[1. Orphans—Fiction. 2. Sex office—Fiction. 3. Pirates—Fiction.

4. Seafaring life—Fiction. five. Bounding main stories.] I. Championship.

PZ7.M57172Un 2005

[Fic]—dc22 2004022463

ISBN 978-0-15-205345-one

ISBN 978-0-fifteen-205873-ix pb

Text ready in Minion

Display ready in Pabst

Designed past Cathy Riggs

First edition

A C E G H F D B

Printed in the Us

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Over again for Annetje...

...and for

Martha Marie Meyer

and Nancy W. B. Lawrence

Function I

Chapter ane

"Ishmael!" I call out equally I skip down the gangplank of the Pequod, my seabag on my shoulder. "Skilful sailing to you!"

"And to thee, Jacky," he says. The male child stands by the rail watching me go out the whaler for good and ever. "Thee are sure thee will not ally me?"

I swear, these Quaker lads are so cute with their thees and thys.

"Go find yourself a overnice daughter, Ishmael," I say by way of answer to his proposal. "Not 1 that stinks of whale oil!"

"I thinks thee smells just fine, Jacky Faber." I know he is genuinely sad to encounter me go, merely equally I am sad to encounter the last of him. I blow him a kiss and give him a final moving ridge and go downwardly the gangplank and step onto the wharf and hence onto the land that is England.

I was brought on lath the whaler three months ago after I had run away from the Lawson Peabody Schoolhouse for Young Girls in Boston, which is where my mates on HMS Dolphin had dumped me after finding out that I was a girl, which was against the rules. Their rules, non mine.

Aye, they put me off the Dolphin fifty-fifty though I was a perfectly skilful sailor and was just fabricated Midshipman, even. Before I was constitute out, the just person aboard the warship who knew that I was a daughter was my ain dear Jaimy, to whose domicile I am now going to travel to find out what'due south up with him. I ain't heard anything from him since he left on the Dolphin, leaving me behind, alone and friendless, and in a strange land.

Things didn't become at all smooth for me at the Lawson Peabody School, where they tried to brand a lady out of me and I gotta say they didn't accept much luck in the endeavour. In fact, at that place wasn't that much left of the Lawson Peabody, itself, after I got washed and lit out, the school beingness up in flames behind me, with a good chip of Boston burning merrily every bit well. And it wasn't all my error, either, no thing what anyone tells you.

Subsequently I got clear out of the city, I had run on down to New Bedford, a port well to the due south of Boston, and 'twas there I found a whaling send, the Pequod, lying alongside a busy wharf. Bold as brass, I walked upward to the table on the pier where they was signing up sailors for the voyage and practical for a berth, presenting myself every bit a seasoned sailor, which I was. This got a proficient, hearty rouse of laughter from all assembled, but against all odds, I was signed on as companion to the Helm's wife, who was great with child, and every bit teacher for her little male child, likewise every bit beingness cook'southward helper. The Helm was taking his family along, which whalers often do, until such fourth dimension equally his wife had her baby, and then wife and children would be debarked in England to stay with relatives for a fourth dimension. And then, not only would I become passage back to London and peradventure to Jaimy, just I would also go a quarter of a share of the transport's profits as pay. And, I would surely pick up more than knowledge of seamanship, which I know will come in handy anytime. Although I've had my ups and downs, I've always been pretty lucky, by and big.

Later on provisioning and signing up the rest of the coiffure, we finally set up sail and left the country backside us. I before long found that bein' on a whaler wasn't like bein' on a Royal Navy Ship, no, non at all. The Captain is still the Lord and Master of everything and everybody, but the day-to-mean solar day hard subject area and rigid regulations but ain't there. Everyone is bent toward the Almighty Profit and anyone who can add to that profit is held in loftier esteem, and anyone who slacks off ain't treated all that kindly. So, when they institute that I could steer a course, trim a canvass, and stand a watch, I was added to the scout list. Daytime watches only, for a while, and and then, after they knew they could trust me, nighttimes, likewise.

The coiffure was a rough bunch, of course, but I was used to that, and I quickly made friends with them all—especially with Ishmael, and, of grade, with Patience, she bein' the Captain's wife and a perfect joy. Heavy with child though she was, she was ever jolly and brave right upwards to and through the birth of her fine, fat daughter. In addition to my other duties, it was understood that I was brought on lath to help Patience during the birthing, but when her fourth dimension did come in the center of the night in the midst of a living gale, I was no aid at all. She had to comfort me when information technology was all going on, which was probably not what the Captain had in heed when he signed me on board. Just I did hold her paw, and when the baby finally slid out all slippery and bloody, I picked it upward past its feet as I was told and I saw that it was a girl. I slapped her tiny bum and she coughed and started wailing, and I laid her down and cutting and tied the cord as I was told, and then I cleaned upwards mother and child equally best I could in the tiny cabin that was pitchin' up and downwardly and back and forth with the wind howlin' similar a demented banshee exterior. I got a clean cloth wrapped effectually the baby and put her on Patience'south breast and kept sayin' I'm deplorable, I'm sorry over and over, but Patience said I did just fine and she wanted no other midwife in omnipresence for time to come babies, none other than Jacky Faber. As for Jacky Faber, her own cocky, she's more than than a bit glad that her own adventures in birthin' babies are at least a few years off in the time to come.

And then I'm billowy merrily on downwards the pier, gratefully suckin' in the air of my own land in one case again, and in that location I see the Captain and Patience, who's got our lovely trivial Prudence cradled in her arm and my star pupil, Increase, by her side. I cover Patience in farewell and we babble our adept-byes and I give Increase a buss, him being the son of the Captain and his missus. Part of my job was teachin' him his numbers and letters, and though he was a willing and brilliant educatee, he really wanted to be out and off in the riggin' and I could hardly blame him, bein' of a like mind myself. I give him the farewell osculation and he says, "Yuck," and rubs the osculation from his cheek, but I don't hold it confronting him, and just ruffle his curly head fondly. He is a expert boy.

The family unit is leaving

this morning to stay with relatives in Maidstone until this voyage of the Pequod is over, and so my time on the transport is also over—no skilful reason to have a lonely female on board, and then off I am booted.

As the Captain handed his family upwards into the double-decker, he turned to me and said, "Farewell, Faber, and Godspeed. Know thee that I detest to lose a adept sailor," which for him was a long speech. 'Cept when he was goin' on almost that whale. And then he never seemed to stop. I nodded and thanked him for taking me on board and he turned and left, his peg leg tappin' on the pier as he went 'round the coach to the other door to mountain up. When he is in, the coachman gives a chuck to the horses and they are gone.

On the wharf, too, is the First Mate, Mr. Starbuck. He is overseein' the off-loadin' of the barrels of the whale oil, it already being sold and paid for. My own quarter share is snug in my money belt, the gilt coins being warmed past my belly, side by side to the coins I had earned playin' and dancin' in the Pig and Whistle in Boston and actin' in the theater with Mr. Fennel and Mr. Bean.

We had first-class luck in baggin' the poor whales, which nobody tin can ever again tell me is merely common cold fishes—I learned that to be true the get-go time I jumped onto the back of a whale brought alongside and felt the estrus of its dying body comin' up at me. The men were there with flensing tools, blades with long handles for strippin' off the blubber that would exist passed up on hooks to the deck where the not bad cauldrons were fired up for boiling downward the blubber into oil for the lamps of Britain and America. I had a different job and a disgustin' task it was: Along with the big barrels of oil there on the deck, there are smaller casks of spermaceti, an oily, waxy goo that's taken out of a pit in the sperm whale's caput—and that was my job, to shovel out the stuff into a pail while the rest of the coiffure stripped the residue of the creature of its parts. It is difficult to believe that spermaceti is used for makin' ladies' perfume, as it certain didn't odor very perfumy to me, sittin' in that location on the whale'due south head, scoopin' out the stuff.

I don't think I'll exist signing on a whaler once again, equally it's a nasty business.

I turn the corner and the Pequod goes out of my life forever. Information technology is September in the year of 1804, and I am xv years old. I think.

I become on down the street, lookin' for a double-decker to acquit me away for London, 'crusade right at present the Pequod is docked in the port of Gravesend, which is about twenty-five miles east of the big urban center. I'm hopin' to get in a coach and become some distance on my fashion and so stop for the dark at a overnice clean inn and have a flake of a bath and have my dress cleaned of the whaler's aroma before I head into London proper.

I know that I'm holdin' back from just divin' straight into London, 'cause I don't know what'south waitin' for me in that location, in regards to Jaimy. I didn't become any letters at all from him when I was in Boston, not even one, the whole fourth dimension we've been autonomously. I don't know if whatever of my letters got to him, either. I don't know if he thinks of me at all or if he's gone off with some other—someone prettier or grander, or more of a lady than me, which wouldn't be difficult to discover. Lord knows I didn't do too well at that lady school—I'd take been run off for sure by now if I hadn't caused the place to be burned to the ground.

I don't know annihilation near anything, so I volition have to just wait to discover out and and so get on with things, with Jaimy or without, and...

There! A coach is loading and is pointed in the right direction. I go upwardly and notice that the coach is going to Greenwich and will simply cost me one and four if I ride up superlative, which is fine with me 'crusade that's where I'd desire to be, anyhow, out in the air instead of bein' buffeted dorsum and forth in the stuffy coach with the swells. And, I tin get another double-decker for London early the following twenty-four hours. Perfect!

My seabag is thrown up superlative and I sling the Lady Lenore in her fiddle case over my shoulder. The Lady is a fine, fine fiddle that I got sort of legal-like, which is a trivial uncommon for me, I know, and I've been practicing on her like crazy the by v months and I'm almost getting good. I settle myself into the seat next to the driver and we are off, rattlin' through the port boondocks, which quickly thins out into small shops and farmsteads. The commuter and me starts sharin' a few tunes together, it bein' a cute day and him havin' a fair baritone and me pullin' out my fiddle and pennywhistle and holdin' along in my usual loud and brazen manner. It ain't too long 'fore a couple of the swells in the coach below climb out and bring together us up summit and soon we've got a real party goin', laughin' and singin' and makin' the miles fly past.

Finally we pull upwardly to a respectable lookin' business firm and I hop down and get my gear and I go upward to the landlord and inquire for a room for the night. He looks at me all suspicious, like I'm goin' to exist up to no skillful, and what with ane of the swells still singin' out loud backside me, I tin't say I blame him. But I tell him that I'yard strictly an entertainer with a nice clean human action, and, "Speakin' of clean, I'll exist needin' a bath, besides, so if you could arrange for one, Sir, I'd be most pleased. And, speakin' of acts, maybe nosotros could gear up somethin' for this night in your principal hall, hmmmm?"

We settle on 2 1-hour sets for half the room hire and whatever tips I can pick up. I haul my stuff off to my room, after telling i of the fancy immature men with whom I had shared a song or ii on the way here that I would not be sharing my room or my bed with him, thank y'all, no matter how pretty he is or how sweet his words of love. I go ready for my bathroom, my wonderful bath, my first bath in three months, which is what I'grand wantin' right at present over whatsoever immature human being. About whatsoever. I'd have Jaimy right now, I would, dirty equally I am, as he's seen me filthier than this, that's for certain, and still he still said then that he loved me.

I take a deep breath and think on that. That, and the fact that I might encounter him tomorrow. That, and I'm afraid of what will happen when I do.

At that place'due south a tap on the door and a immature girl'southward voice says, "Miss? Your bath is ready."

I am sunk up to my nose in the lovely hot water, with great gobs of suds drifting about me like ships on the body of water sea. My knees stick up out of the water and I name my left one there to be Gibraltar and the correct ane to be the coast of North Africa and now the mighty ships of suds sail majestically through the Strait. With a puff of my breath, I speed the dandy galleons of suds through the channel like a off-white and following wind. That i shall be the Raleigh on which Davy sails—whoops, a niggling crude weather in that location, Davy? Did yous run aground on mighty Gibraltar? Tsk! Sorry, Mate. And that one is the Endeavor, which holds Tink, and that one's the Temeraire with Willy on lath, and at that place, that fine shapely ane there, that is the Essex, whereon my true dearest Jaimy lies—Midshipman James Emerson Fletcher, that is. That one sails all pretty right between my knees and on toward my toes. I slide a fiddling bit up against the high back of the tin can tub to let my chest come up halfway out of the water. Let's see if we tin go the boys to come sailing back to me. I wriggle my toes to transport the ships dorsum upstream.

At that place'due south a rap on the door and once again I sink below the waves, but it is but the girl, this time lugging a large steaming pitcher. "More hot water, Miss?" she pipes. She must be all of x, the daughter of the firm, dressed evidently but make clean.

"Bless you, child, yes," I sigh, relaxing back into the water. She pours it in over the edge. The new hot water swirls about me, making what I idea was hot earlier seem now to be merely warm. "And at that place'll be an extra penny in it for you if y'all bring me another in a picayune while."

The girl leaves and it's fourth dimension for me to stop daydreaming about ships and shores and start getting down to the business of washing the stink of the whaler off me.

I'g soaping my armpits and wondering—I had heard that fine French ladies had the hair nether their arms shaved and the pilus on their legs, too, but I never got a hazard to ask Amy whether that was true or non. She, being very proper, wouldn't have thought it a decent question, is why I never asked. Amy Trevelyne was my best friend dorsum at the schoolhouse, but she sure ain't now, that'due south for sure—not after I shamed myself at the big party at her firm last leap past getting stupid drunk and bringing disgrace to her family. Too making a complete fool of myself, I got Randall hurt and nearly killed and it'southward no wonder she betrayed me to the Preac

her'southward men and I don't blame her a scrap for doing that ... Stop thinkin' about that at present. What'south done is washed and thinkin' virtually information technology ain't gonna practise you any adept at all...

Looking at my toes sticking upward at the other cease, I reflect that my toenails could apply a bit of a trim then I haul the right human foot up and start gnawing 'em off all neat and trim with my teeth. It's piece of cake to do since they've got all soft with the hot water. Thinkin' dorsum on Amy and hairy armpits puts me dorsum to thinking virtually Mistress Pimm. She was the headmistress and tried her best to make a lady out of me. Well, some things stuck, Mistress, and some things didn't. I pull upwardly my other foot and prepare up its toenails in the same manner. I know I learned enough to act like a lady, if I'yard dressed for the office, simply I know, likewise, that I'll never actually be ane. Not down to the os.

I've found that boys seem to like me, though, and that has been a constant surprise to me, since I consider myself quite plain and even a little bit worked over—I've got a scar nether my left countenance, which makes the hair of it come in white, and I've got sort of a welt on my neck from when the pirate LeFievre strung me up that time—unremarkably yous can't come across information technology, but if I get excited, information technology flares upward red. There are other scars, too, but by and large in places what can't be seen. No, I am not beautiful—that Clarissa Worthington Howe back at the schoolhouse sure showed me what was a cute and cultured lady, that being her, and what was not, that being me. So, I don't know. ... Possibly Jaimy'southward found someone more pretty than me and that's why. ... simply finish thinking that manner. Yous only go round and round and that's not going to assistance...

I spit out the final toenail clipping and plow to my hair. I dunk down face-offset in the water to get it proficient and wet, then come up like a dolphin and start in to soaping it upward. Later on it'due south good and soaped and rubbed all in with my fingers, it's back downward under to rinse. My hair has gotten actually long, in spite of the singeing it took on that concluding day when the Lawson Peabody burned to the basis forth with the church building that was side by side to it and the stables, and peradventure other stuff, likewise. ... I don't know. I didn't stick around long enough to notice out. Poor Mistress. I promise they build y'all another school, this time one of brick that I can't burn down. You lot were violent, only you tried to do your best for me, in your way.

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