Zeelandia

51. Of Differing Attitudes

Partway through supping, the whistle above the chart table sounded, and Charles rose, strode across the cabin and responded to it with a loud, "Captain."

A long and muffled call came down the voice pipe, too garbled to discern words from where I sat, and when it ended, Charles replied, "Thank you, Mister Matthews."

He rejoined Father and me, and as he sat, he said, "We are now clear of the shoals and the islands and steadied onto our course for the night."

I nodded at this, and after a few moments of thought, I asked, "We will arrive at Port Royal after the morrow's sunset. How do we handle this in the dark?"

"The easiest way is to reduce speed, and I have ordered furled all but the foretopsail, the mizzen and the jibs. With the breeze steady, this should slow us to seven or eight knots, allowing us to arrive in the forenoon of Wednesday."

"And if the breeze is not steady?"

"We adjust the sails. The aim is to maintain seven to eight knots to add half a day to the passage."

I paused a spoon of pease short of my mouth. "So, you have timed it that we make landfall after sunrise."

"Exactly! The harbour approaches are fouled with rocks and shoals, and having the sun abaft the beam, allows them to show. Arriving too late in the day, with the sun forward, its reflections and glares blind us to many aspects of the bottom. And, of course, in the dark, it is folly."

"Your manner with Camille is unusual, Charles. It is not common to share such details with a woman."

Charles looked up from his plate, presenting a strange expression to Father. "Is it not? And if not, why not?" He placed a hand on mine and caressed. "From the depth of knowledge Camille has absorbed, you must have shared a great amount with her."

"Ah, but that was through tales of adventure told to a young girl, not a blathering of complex details to burden a woman. Women have other things to occupy their minds."

"We do?" I shook my head. "Such as what, Father?"

"Other matters, Camille. Matters about which men have no interest. Behaviours we do not understand." He glanced at my chest and nodded downwards. "You should be well-aware of those by now, and it is best you keep them to yourself."

This shocked me, and I opened my mouth to speak, but found no words. I looked back and forth between the two men, trying to comprehend, then Charles broke the silence, "I think the more we share with each other, the stronger and more fulfilling the relationship."

"No." Father shook his head. "No, not in the least. Rather, the opposite; you will find it becomes increasingly strained."

"Possibly for some." Charles shrugged. "But I find the more details I offer her, the more she flourishes, the more eager she is to learn, and the more we delight in each other."

Father did not respond, his mouth filled with a large piece of ham. One far too large for polite company, I thought. What a strange attitude about women. Similar to what Ruth had told me some men hold. But Father? Why had I not...

Charles' words interrupted my thoughts, "Shall we agree to disagree here, so we might tend to other matters? I have asked James to arrange a bed for you in the upper gunroom."

Father nodded, then when he had finished his bite, he said, "That is very kind of you. And what of the others?"

"The three officers will be with the midshipmen in the lower gunroom, and the remainder have been spread through the gundecks and the forecastle."

"And the captured picaroons?"

"Stripped, shackled, chained, and under armed guard."

Father grimaced. "Some among them were from my crew. Convinced to turn foul and join them."