Zealand

34. Yet Another New Home

The following day, dressed in my barging clothes, I cleaned six months worth of dust from everything in the great cabin. Then I washed all the walls and floors – bulkheads and decks, Captain had called them. With the rain, the time was not right for laundering, so before he left, he set me to waxing and polishing the furniture.

So much of it here compared to at home. Only four chairs there – I paused to count – sixteen set around the dining table here. And four more by the windows. And another at his desk and two at the table in his night cabin. So much space, but only one sleeping room and one bed. But all the chairs – likely to receive guests to dine and to talk.

Whatever; they all want waxing and polishing – except maybe the leather ones at the windows. Need to ask him if they also want wax. But no rush to know – another few days doing all the oaken ones and the tables.

I was curious to visit the forecastle to see where I would sleep, but Captain said it is unwise while the repairs proceed, and it might interfere in the men's work.

With the dining table finally done, I began on the chairs, and as I rubbed beeswax onto an arm of the second one, the continual banging eased, then stopped. Quiet after so much racket. A while later, when it had not recommenced, my curiosity took me to the door to find the reason, and I saw a long line of men heading down the gang-board and across the yard. Day finished already? I looked up at the sun's glow through the gray of the southern sky. Nay, paused for dinner.

Would it now be proper for me to look? Captain had said I might interfere with their work, but that has stopped. As the last of the men walked across the gang-board to the dock's edge, I went back inside, pondering whether a quick visit would do any harm. They are now not there to disturb.

Though the rain had ended, I donned my cape against the cold. The tarpawlings no longer covered the forecastle, so as I approached, I saw the extent of the damage. Then looking up at the masts, I imagined a topmast and gallant, similar to ones on the main, falling from the foremast. And their spreets coming down with them – the yards,[1] Captain had called them.

That was all the banging – tearing away the broken wood from the forecastle's roof and walls. Walls? Would these also be called bulkheads? And the roof? A deck from outside and a deckhead from within, as he had explained. Likely the same here as aft. So much yet to learn.

To one side, a door and its frame stood crushed, so I picked my way past the piles of splintered wood to look through the gaps. A tangled jumble lay inside, well lit through the pierced and collapsed deckhead, and I conjured up images in my mind, trying to think what all those shattered pieces might have been. Then further in, dimly lit by prisms, I saw orderly rows of long tables and benches. Aha! That is what the jumble had been – where we take our meals.

Seeing it was too much risque to prise[2] open the door, I picked my way back to the clear deck and headed across to the other side of the forecastle to find another way in. Around the corner, a door stood agape,[3] and I paused at the entrance, allowing my eyes to accustom to the dimness within.

Strange shapes emerged out of the gloom, and as my eyes adjusted, I realised they were hammocks, as Captain had described. One of them, my new bed. My new home.

As I continued in, the loom of daylight, coming through the broken corner beyond them, made it difficult to see details, and I startled at a voice in the darkness, "Hoy![4] Fetch-up, lad."[5]

I looked toward the voice, seeing nobody until a man stepped out past the end of a row of hammocks and continued, "What do ye here?"

"I have come to look at my new home, sir."

"It's not safe to visit." He pointed up. "That beam be cracked, and if the split grows, this whole section will come asunder."

As I nodded and stepped back, another man emerged. "Did I not warn you to remain clear of here until the work is complete, Boy?"

"Aye, sir. But I understood that to mean when the men are working, and they are now gone to eat."

Captain nodded. "Yes, I see. I might have been more clear with my words. But whatever, move from under there. Come over here where it is safer."

As I arrived at his side, Captain said, "So, explain it again, Mister Bromley, now that I can see of what you speak."

"Before anything, stand two posts neath this there and there to shore,[6] so we can continue working. Next, sister[7] the split and plant a permanent post, then we can scarf[8] the stubs of the deck planks to save rebuilding the entire section. 'Twill take longer this way, but with the shortage of wood,[9] less time than the wait."

I understood little of what he said, but Captain's nods showed that he had, and then his words confirmed, "Yes, a sensible solution. Give the men more work and save wood for London."

Mister Bromley continued speaking in his obscure manner as he pointed to various places above us, then he guided us clear of the broken beam and through the door into the dull daylight. At the gang-board, he said, "I'll set them to it immediately we return from dinner, sir."

While Mr Bromley descended the gang-board, Captain turned to me and asked, "So, what did you learn on your foolhardy venture, Boy?"

"That it is not safe to enter a damaged area without knowledge."

"Exactly! And because we cannot know everything, we use the knowledge of others to guide us. In this instance, the shipwright Mister Pett has assigned to oversee and direct the repairs to the forecastle."

I nodded. "And I also learnt that it will be very crowded sleeping in there."

"Aye, but only when there is risque of action against another ship. Most of the hands choose to hang[10] their hammocks between the guns below, where there is more comfort. Only a few remain up here."

"Oh! But there are dozens upon dozens of hammocks in there. Do the Dutch do it different from us?"

"Nay, Boy. Ponder this awhile, and the reason will emerge."

I nodded. "Yes, of course. They had encountered the enemy. All would have removed up to the forecastle."

"Indeed! I like your clear thinking."

"Might I go to the gundecks to choose the best place for my hammock?"

"After we have dined, Boy." He pointed down the gang-board. "We shall go again to the Globe."

Notes:
[1] A yard is a long spar mounted across the front of a mast to support and spread the head (top) of a sail.
[2] Prise evolved to pry in the early 1800s.
[3] I would have used ajar, but it didn't enter the language until 1718.
[4] The word ahoy didn't evolve from hoy until 1748. Hoy had been used to attract attention and to drive animals since the 14th century.
[5] The word avast didn't enter the language until the 1680s, so I've found an alternative that did exist.
[6] In this context, to shore is to brace or support with posts.
[7] To sister in this context is to attach a long piece to one or both sides of a broken member, much like a splint.
[8] To scarf is to join pieces of wood by mating long diagonal cuts at their ends.
[9] In anticipation of London's rebuilding, wood and other building materials had been increasingly hoarded.
[10] The current word for this, sling, didn't acquire this meaning until the 1690s.