…some work in progress from the Cazique of Poyais story…

Noemi surfaced above decks as needed to get fresh air and relief from the heat below decks as necessary, but she still had very little interest in communicating with anyone abroad the Ocean, including Jose. Nonetheless, Jose stayed by her side. After all, it was his fault to a certain extent that they were where they were.

The days continued to be relatively droll, uneventful affairs of monotonous forward bouncing motion. They had no real sense of direction, so only assumed they were heading towards London. So far there had been no bad weather or incident, just plain sailing. Neither Noemi nor Jose thought it was quite plain sailing, but it was their land locked souls that caused that particular course of thought.

Jose grew restless after a couple of weeks. They had stopped at a Caribbean island for a short time to resupply, but there wasn’t precisely time to jump off and explore. It had been different to Belize Town, but it was another port in the same part of the world. It was not so different as to intrigue Jose too much. It didn’t even cross Noemi’s mind as something interesting. What it did push Jose to do was listen in on some of the conversations the other passengers were having and see if he could get involved somehow.

One day after they left the Caribbean island, Noemi and Jose were catching some air above decks on a particularly pleasant day, when they heard two women speaking about the tragedy that befell them in Poyais.

“Lily, dear, I know it’s so awful to think of, but I curse my dearly departed husband for dragging me halfway around the world like this only to be dragged back when the dream of a new life turned to ash before our eyes.”

“Don’t be cursing him alone my dear Emma. He’s not the main person to blame.”

“Who then? He dragged me along with him!”

“That Gregor McGregor, that’s who. He swindled all of us out of our hard earned savings and sold us a patent lie.”

“He was that charming gentleman was he not, who spoke to us in the town hall and saw our boat off?”

“Exactly, that is the man you should direct your anger at. He did knowingly and fully swindle us my dear.”

A thin, middle aged man of distinctly below average build and character was within earshot of Emma and Lily, as was Jose. Most people were, but most only focussed on their own thoughts as Noemi did. He had been shaking his head at the conversation for some time when he finally interjected, “You can’t fault the honourable Sir Gregor McGregor ladies!”

Emma looked at Lily for a rebuttal which duly cane, “is that so? Well, surely he is at fault. It’s not as though he had never been to this part of the world! He spent considerable time there. How can he not have known it was an awful swamp of a place?”

“He was simply a figurehead, a man spreading hope and happiness! It was that Colonel Hall and Sir McGregor’s other agents whose was at fault. They mislead him and us!”

Emma looked dumbfounded at the man, “what’s your name?”

“Thomas Clink, at your service.”

“Well, explain to me, Mr Clink, how it is that Colonel Hall is responsible? From my view, he did all he could to help us survive the misery we were dumped into.”

“But his agents my dear woman – they stood to profit most. The bankers who sold us those worthless bonds and helped in part, but not to their detriment on the whole, to fund so many an expedition over to the ill fated Poyais.”

Exasperated Emma now joined the fray, “you didn’t even answer her question! You blame Colonel Hall yet all he did was try to help us.”

“Lies! He was a half witted leader working on behalf of the trading companies down there. They didn’t want a Poyais that flourished as it would have ruined their profits from trade in the area.”

“So now we move on to the truly fanciful,” Emma said, no longer as shy as she seemed at first.

“You women, what would you know. You call an honourable man a swindler. Awful. You wretches should be ashamed of yourselves. Are your husbands not hear to teach you proper?”

“My husband died because of what that monster McGregor put us through! Now I have no choice but to take my own counsel,” screeched Lily, ending the conversation.

Thomas Clink would surely bring it up again on this long voyage as it was clear he had supporters amongst the Poyais sufferers. This who had solemnly nodded along to his every word.

Jose, watching and listening to all this wondered most what it was that had driven the woman called Emma to speak up. He also pondered what had caused her suffering and shyness. Was it a lost husband as well?

…some work in progress from the Cazique of Poyais story…

The feelings amongst the passengers aboard the Ocean were deeply divided. They were also so tired and worn out that the divisions did not show much in the day to day runnings of the ship. Not to mention that many with opinions they wished to voice had such limited voice due to their illness. Debate only flashed up in anger at odd times and subsided nearly as quickly. They brewed though, continually, and lead to a rotten mood for all aboard.

After setting sail, Noemi and Jose spent a few days keeping to themselves, exhausted from their mental journey up to this point. They skulked below decks as long as they could before going on deck each day to take in some fresh air. It was a miserable existence that was only improved by the fact that Noemi and Jose were on speaking terms, having summarily swept the Uncle Tito issue under the rug, for the moment.

“It stinks in here, brother. How can it smell so awful?”

“I guess ships like this have seen it all. Maybe it’s just ingrained in the wood,”

“I feel so useless sitting here doing naught.”

“There are sick people you could look after I think though you’ve probably had enough of that for a lifetime.”

Noemi pondered the idea before responding, “I don’t think I’ve had my fill for a lifetime, but I don’t have it in me right now.”

“We could talk to some others. Get to know some people and find out a thing or two about London. There is much we do know, but so much of the regular that is a mystery.”

A silence fell over their conversation filled in only by the sounds of the creaking ship and relatively calm waters as they made their way through the gulf to the Atlantic. Tension lingered even though they were now on speaking terms, so Jose pushed the matter no further, simply waiting for a response or a continuation of the silence. He turned his head away and picked up a book. After he had leafed through a few pages Noemi said, “not today,” and then she turned to be left to her own thoughts.

…some work in progress from the Cazique of Poyais story…

Noemi and Jose approached the docks, still not speaking to one another and carrying with them the meagre supplies that represented their entire life. The ship in front of them was not the prettiest sight, but it was their future. A throng of people waiting to board stood along the docks. It was not until now that Noemi and Jose realised that they were essentially refugees, along with these Poyais sufferers. There was the promise of riches at the other end, sure. That was not certain and they felt it more than ever now.

Instinctively they held hands from the potent mix of fear and exciting looking up at their home for the crossing. They had always done the same growing up when they encountered a foreign and fearful test – when their parents died, when they were chased down by a stampede of bulls and all this other countless times when adventures veered into an interesting course.

This turn was interesting in its own right, forgetting all that had just occurred to them. Boarding a ship to England was no trivial matter for folk such as them. Neither of them had been on any sort of waterborne vessel, period, and now they were staring up at a mammoth. They heard the crossing could be hellish. It was why the debate around Uncle Tito had started. This only heightened the fear. The part known is often more dangerous than the unknown.

The throng they were in surged slightly, making all party sway to and fro. It was time to be ushered onto the ship and assigned their berths for the journey. A few minor scuffles were sporadically breaking out but were quickly calmed by the cool headed amongst the party. The crew of the Ocean didn’t really care about the passengers, they just wanted them on board along with the provisions and then they’d get to focus on the business of sailing the ship.

“I’m not sure why these people have to push like that,” Noemi uttered almost under her breath. The first words she had said to Jose since they read the letter from Uncle Tito.

Not wanting to ruin a fragile truce, Jose simply responded, “human nature I guess. Agitation begets agitation. It’s Shane since they’ll all have to be together for some weeks.”

“Months, brother, months. I think they all know what’s coming and that’s after they’ve already been to hell and back.”

“These poor people.”

“That’s to say the least of it brother. I saw the suffering first hand in the hospital. Those coming back to London are mostly those who couldn’t fend for themselves in the new world.”

“I wonder what they’ll do back in England?”

“Beg to their families, if they have them.”

The conversation stopped as abruptly as it started. They now reached the planks where they would board the Ocean from the quay. Noemi did not hesitate as she put one foot in front of the other, but she felt a tug on her arm as Jose paused for a moment. He surveyed the area behind him and around. It questioned quickly to himself whether they were making a huge mistake. Then, there was nothing left for them here and a chance in London. Before the throng behind him could push him forward, he did so himself.