Anna's Crossing: An Amish Beginnings Novel by Suzanne Woods Fisher Page A

to lose another seaman on the voyage—he was already critically short on crew.
    Bairn decided to test the waters to change the captain’s mind. “With Mr. Pocock ailin’ so from the gout, I thought perhaps I might accompany you, as I did last time.”
    “Nae this time, Bairn. Mr. Pocock will see a doctor while we’re in port.”
    “Mayhap I should come along, then.” Bairn pressed on. “Sir, we have nae had to lay up provisions for so many before. ’Tis a significant amount of passengers down below.” As carpenter, he was responsible for ensuring food was properly preserved. He had an interest in ensuring that all goods coming on board were properly casked—if they were not, he would get the blame when the food went rotten and waterwent brackish, as often happened despite his best attempts. If it wasn’t the humidity on the ship that bred mold, it was the weevils that wormed their way into every closed container. “I was about t’give Decker instructions to finish holystonin’ the deck.”
    Captain Stedman straightened his collar. “Decker’s nae ready fer additional responsibilities.”
    Blast it all! That’s what Bairn had told the captain when Decker had sought the position of carpenter’s mate. Decker would never be ready. He wasn’t trustworthy. The last time Decker had applied to go ashore, the captain granted him leave and he ended up causing trouble in a late-night pub that served cheap liquor. He was arrested, and the captain faced a fee of several pounds to get him out. Bairn thought the captain should leave him incarcerated, but Decker was an experienced seaman and had skills the ship needed.
    The captain patted Bairn on his back. “Dinnae look so forlorn, Bairn. ’Twill give you practice of managin’ a motley crew when you become first mate.” Then the captain stopped talking and simply pointed to the door. Dismissed.
    That was the second time in recent weeks that the captain had hinted a promotion lay at the end of this voyage. While that was a good sign, Bairn came out of the Great Cabin shaken and disappointed, trying to ignore a cluster of seamen who were watching him from the decks.
    A few moments later, the captain emerged from the Great Cabin holding his satchel and met Mr. Pocock at the side of the ship where the longboats were being lowered.
    “Wait! Wait for me!” Georg Schultz clamored to the top of the companionway and made his way around the sailors working on the deck on their hands and knees, bumpinginto them without apology. In one hand was a leather bag, in the other was his cloak. “I’d like to go ashore with you, Captain. I have some business to attend to.” He set down his satchel, dropped his cloak on top, then hiked his pants up over his large belly.
    Off to find a Pharo Bank, Bairn thought with disdain, knowing Georg Schultz as he did. A fool’s way to spend money. Bairn’s income came too hard to risk it on a hand of cards, even in the unlikely event that it was honestly dealt.
    Captain Stedman frowned. “Mr. Schultz, if yer nae back when we set sail, we leave without you.”
    “Captain,” Bairn said, “when do you plan to shove off fer America?”
    The captain peered up at the early morning sky. “Within a few days, Lord willin’. Assumin’ we get a prosperous wind.” The air was absolutely still. The only sound was the cry of gulls.
    Blocks squealed and the captain’s barge was lowered into the water. Bairn watched the three men scale the rope ladder down into the longboat and sail toward the docks of Plymouth. The captain stood at the prow, adjusting his tricorn hat, with the rowers behind him, feet widespread as the longboat listed a bit as Schultz settled into a middle seat.
    The first and possibly most important task of a ship’s company newly arrived in port was to arrange for the watering of the ship—filling the casks with fresh water for the sea journey. Meanwhile, Captain Stedman would be pacing the government abattoirs in Stonehouse