Paradise Cursed – Snippet 10
“Grab a halyard, sailor, and put some muscle on it.”
“Yes, sir!”
Seeing the aft sail unfurl and stretch slowly upward, Dayna stopped in awe. To everyone else, this was just another day, she imagined, or a fun romp, but for her it was the unfolding of a dream she’d nourished since the moment she stepped foot on the Elyssa, long out of service and now a tourist attraction but still a tangible piece of a world she couldn’t get enough of reading about.
“Pull!”
Dayna squeezed in beside Ola on the main sail line—mains’l, she corrected herself—and wrapped her hands around the thick braided rope.
“Now don’t you look as sunny as a spring chick,” Ola said in greeting. “Where’s that sweet sister of yours?”
“She’ll be here soon.” Dayna felt certain Erin would want to chronicle their first day for her blog. “Probably putting her camera gear together.”
“Tripe and rubbish, girl. Can’t get the bed off her back I’m thinkin.”
“Pull!”
The shout came from Jase Graham, standing tall and sexy, sandy brown hair flying in the wind, arms folded importantly across his solid chest as he snapped out the order. He looked as fierce as his boyishly handsome features would allow.
“Drop that camera and lend a shoulder,” he told a passenger, then shouted again, “Pull!”
Startled, the man looked around for a line that didn’t already have a dozen pairs of hands on it.
“Step lively there, mate,” Jase told him.
The man grabbed hold.
“Pull!”
Dayna felt the rhythm as they heaved hard on the line then grabbed another handhold farther along and pulled again. The snap and rustle of the canvas as the wind caught it was like music. With the aft sail now aloft, the bow began to swing around the mooring. The murmur of approval that rippled through the crowd was a whisper compared to the shout of pure joy Dayna wanted to let loose. She clamped her lips tight, not wanting to let on how green she was.
“According to what I read,” she said to Ola, “the Sarah Jane doesn’t use an auxiliary engine to get underway.”
“No modern sailing gizmos on Cap’n McKinsey’s vessel, nosir.”
“It’s going to take excellent seamanship to work our way out of this busy harbor.” She wondered who was at the helm. The captain hadn’t come around yet, and the second mate seemed to have vanished. She spotted Erin with her camera and raised a hand to wave at her. “Ola, have you sailed on other —?”
A gunshot ripped through the crowd chatter.
“Pull!” Jase Graham was waving a pistol. Huge and menacing, it had materialized out of nowhere. A thin wisp of smoke curled from its barrel as he pointed it straight at Erin.
“Lend a shoulder there, sailor.”
In the sudden silence that swept the ship, an angry growl rumbled up the gangway. Dayna turned to look and sensed every head on the ship turn, as well.
Leaping to the deck was a terrifying specter of matted hair topped by a filthy tri-corner hat, braided beard tied with colored ribbons, and all of it sparking fire. Daggers, pistols and swords were lashed to colored sashes that hung from his shoulders and waist. With vicious force, his cutlass sliced the air.
“Slackers, eh?” A graveled voice completed the riveting manifestation. “There’s no quarter aboard this ship for slackers.”
He aimed his weapon at Erin, the nearest passenger who was not engaged with the sails, but then waved it menacingly at others.
Someone laughed—nervously, Dayna thought.
“Quiet on the deck!” The specter pointed his cutlass at Dayna, the blade stopping just short of her nose.
“You lot. Pull!” he said.
Gripping the rope tight, she, and everyone on her line, leaned in and pulled with all their might.
From somewhere came a wail of music… was that bagpipes?
“Pull!” shouted Graham.
Rising higher up the mast with each heave, the mains’l bellied out into dawn sky. Then hoisting became next to impossible…until someone must’ve steered her into the wind,
because the sail luffed, emptying its load, and Dayna felt the line move in her hands. Quickly, she heaved into it again and, finally, the mains’l rose to full mast. A seaman ahead of her cleated the halyard.
Dayna stood for a moment just staring, breathing the sea air and feeling incredible.
Now the jibs. Moving fore to take her place on another line, Dayna noticed other passengers standing around relaxed or staring toward the open sea. And ahead of her the largest jib was already up.
“She’s cast off,” someone shouted.
So the anchor was up. The crew must have set the sails. Passengers had merely been treated to a rousing show and a sense of being part of the action. Okay. She’d learned something. Today’s tall ships were more about entertainment than performance. Nevertheless, she still admired the seamanship, and someday she’d be part of it.
As the ship glided gracefully toward a blue and pink horizon, Dayna looked for the pirate — the specter could only have been Edward Teach, old Blackbeard himself. Even knowing it was playacting, she had to admit he’d given them all a good fright, and the farce had jolted everyone alert. Now he was talking to Erin.
Meanwhile, crew and passengers alike sang along with a mournful bagpipe rendition of “Amazing Grace” played through the ship’s speaker system.
“We’re away, girl!” Ola wrapped a plump arm around Dayna. “The historic Sarah Jane is under sail.”
Glad to have someone close who took as much pleasure in this moment as she did, Dayna hugged Ola’s generous waist.
“I’m glad we’re sailing together. Have you seen the Blackbeard act on other ships?”
“My goodness, yes, but none as good as this. Mark my words, this’ll be a cruise to post for all your friends to enjoy. You can bet I’ll be spinning yarns. ‘Nanna, tell me a story,’ and my grand-young-uns’ll get an earful.” Ola shook with laughter. “Smell those cinnamon buns? Nothing makes a body hungrier than fresh sea air, and I’m never one to show up last at the breakfast table.”
The bells at her ears and wrist tinkled brightly as Ola joined the other passengers headed toward the dining hall.
A cruise to post for your friends. Absently, Dayna picked up a line and coiled it in clockwise loops, securing them in her left hand, for stowing.
She had shoved last night’s weirdness down deep in her mind, unwilling to let it spoil her first day at sea. But as she continued to neaten up the deck, she watched the captain— never mind his Blackbeard garb, those gorgeous blue eyes gave him away— talking to Erin, and the whole puzzling episode came back in living color. Erin’s over-the-top reaction to the tarot cards made no sense. She had always been open about her interest in fortune telling, though she wouldn’t call it that. What their dad referred to as Erin’s “Twilight Zone tales” made for great party entertainment, and Dayna had thought of them as amazing party games until Carla’s accident. And now Erin was acting weird since the moment they boarded the ship.
When only about two feet of line remained, Dayna wrapped it around the middle of the loop, forming a figure eight, and finished it off.
“Nice job,” said the cute sailor who’d shown them their room when they arrived. His own coiled line in hand, he nodded toward the cleats on the nearest mast. “I’m guessing you’ve worked a sailboat before.”
As she hung her coil over a cleat, Dayna gave the sailor her best smile. What would he think if she told him she’d never even stepped foot on a sailboat? Maybe some secrets were best kept under wraps.
Together, they finished neatening up the deck, neither doing much talking but enjoying a quiet camaraderie, while Dayna’s mind kept stealing away to the changes in Erin’s attitude since they boarded the Sarah Jane. If her sister was as miserable as she’d seemed last night, then as much as Dayna wanted this cruise, maybe they should jump ship at the next island.
“Break time. Come on, I’ll show you where the crew eats.”
As they walked, he reminded her his name was Victor, “but call me Vic.” He’d crewed on a tall ship the summer before, but this was his first time on the Sarah Jane. Dayna liked him and wondered what the cards would say about their chances of discovering the ship’s secrets together.
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