Abandon
Ship!: Part 1

Two
virgin shipwreck survivors share a lifeboat and a few more discoveries in the
Victorian-era

By Big galute. Listen to the Podcast Steamy Stories.

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"Man the lifeboats! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!"

We had been at sea for ten days when the storm hit, our
splendid vessel battered and broken into no more than firewood, all the
passengers and crew seemingly lost.

I came to, my legs dangling in the water and my arms and
upper body atop some flotsam timbers. The sea around me was calm, with small
pieces of wreckage everywhere. I tried to look around, the throbbing pain in my
head and the low morning sun making it hard to focus; no one to be seen, just
me.

I pulled myself up onto the driftwood, too tired to think,
my mind too blurred to do anything other than curl up and sleep.

Davy, Davy Arthur that's me, eighteen years old and on my
first ship. I'd grown up by the Thames, my father worked on the tugs but died
when I was young. It was in my blood and I'd always dreamt of being at sea,
then my mother died and I got a job as a stoker on the SS Cadwallader,
sailing to the new world. In other words, I assisted in tending the boiler
furnace for this steam ship named for a Welsh king from centuries ago.

The several months I spent shoveling coal into the furnace,
reduced my once-stocky six foot frame by more than 2 inches around my
waistline.

"Hello, Hello. Are you okay there, are you alive?"

I tried to follow the voice, a ladies voice, young and a bit
wispy & screechy as she shouted out to me, "Hello, I'm over here, can
you see me?" I slowly turned my head and body to the left, maybe 3 rods
away from me was a small wooden life boat, a damsel frantically waving her arms at me.
I managed to raise one arm to let her know I was alive and she started to
paddle with one oar, the boat turning sideways rather than towards me, then I
think I passed out again.

"Hello, are you alright, can you move?" The voice
was much closer now, kind and posh, like the ladies I had sometimes overheard
in coming out of tearooms in London. The boat was now less than a fathom from
me but I felt hardly able to move, all my strength needed to perch up on one
elbow.

"I'll hold out the oar, see if you can grab it."
The wispy voice directed.

I used my free arm to grab it, then held on for dear
life and found myself getting right up to the starboard, till a soft hand
grasped my wrist. "You'll have to help me, I can't pull you in
by myself. Can you get onto your knees?"

I did as she said, and rolled up over the rail, then plonked
myself onto the small lifeboat, almost tipping us as I did so.

 "Oh you poor thing, you're all cuts and
bruises." As she said this she supported my head and offered water to my
lips, "Drink slowly in case you get sick." Consciousness was a
fleeting state, and I could not decipher reality from delirious dreams.

I looked up at her pale lips and beautiful green eyes and
wondered if she were an angel and I was dead; my thoughts slipping as my eyes
closed; the ripping of material and my angel saying "We must cover you
from the sun." being the last sounds I heard.

I felt a wet cloth on my forehead and heard soothing words
being spoken, the smiling face of my ‘angel’ looking down
at me as I opened my eyes.

"Hello again." Came her pleasant greeting.  I
think I smiled back and then tried to sit up

"Take it easy, let me help you." She offered. I
felt the wonderful softness of her body against mine as she set me upright.

The spinning in my head slowed as I tried to focus and clear
the fog in my brain; shipwreck, lifeboat, angel. "Do you remember going
overboard and the ship sinking?" My angel asked.

I shook my head, in the affirmative.

 "I think you must have banged your head pretty
badly’” she assessed. “You have a nasty bruise on the side of
it."

I put my hand up and felt the tender area above my ear.
"I think you have what Professor Gower refers to as a concussion, are you
familiar with Professor Gower's work." I again shook my head in the negative.

"He's the eminent neurologist of our time. I think you
should be okay in a day or two."

I nodded, then asked; "What's your name, and are you an
angel?"

She looked taken-aback and then burst out laughing. "Oh
my dear thing, no I'm not an angel and you are very much alive. My name’s
Jemima Fairweather but you may call me Jemi, all my friends do.
What's your name?"

"Davy Arthur."

"Nice to meet you Davy Arthur; & may I
call you Davy?"

 I nodded to her. At that point I could care less what
the skipper of the only lifeboat decided to call me.

"Now, how do we get out of this pickle." She
asked, expecting me to be a seafaring expert.

I followed her gaze as she looked around, nothing but water
and us in a small wooden boat, no more than fifteen feet long. I looked around
our boat; there were three small wooden boxes, only one rowing oar and Jemi,
her elaborate bustle dress torn with several parts missing, and what looked
like some of the dress material tied around her head.

Seeing me stare, Jemi blushed slightly before
explaining, "I lost my hat as I got into the boat and needed to cover my
head from the sun, I used the rest of it to cover you."

I became aware that I was wearing a sort of cloak over my
shoulders, my vest nowhere to be seen and my already threadbare britches now
even more tattered as they clung to my legs. Another small square of the dress
was by my side and I guessed that that had covered my head.

"Thank you for rescuing me."

"No need to thank me. Now tell me Davy, what did
you do on board, do you know how to navigate?"

"I was a junior stoker, I don't know how to read charts
and such but I know the tides on the Thames like the back of my hand."

Jemi smiled sweetly. If she wasn't an angel then she
was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen, her cheeks reddening as she caught
my stare. "Well I've read a few books on navigation and if we can work out
which way we need to go then maybe we can make a sail. Do you want something to
eat?"

I didn't know there was any food and must have looked
confused, "I was put into the lifeboat first and then they handed down
some boxes of provisions. As the other ladies went to get into the boat the
ship listed badly and I broke away, soon after it sank." She looked as if
she would cry.

"I'm very sorry for you if your husband or family were
on board."

She smiled, "No husband and my family are all in
England. Actually if you promise not to tell anyone." She smiled
wider as she looked around at the vast, empty sea, "that's why I'm here.
My father wanted me to marry the horrid Marcus but I wanted to continue my
education and become a scientist. My grandfather had left me an endowment for
when I was twenty one, so I bought a ticket and ran away. I plan to attend
university when I reach America." The sad look returned as she said this.

Not wanting her to be sad I started telling her about
myself, how I'd never been to school but enjoyed working on the tug and now
wanted to see the world. How I'd courted Mary Deacy but when it had
gotten serious I decided on the sea, before I settle down to marriage.

She smiled, "So we're both running away." I nodded
and smiled back

"I think we have another few hours of sun before it
gets dark. Cover your head and we'll eat something, then we'll see if we can
make a sail." I hadn't a clue about how she planned on making a sail and
was still a bit shook from the bang on the head. I knotted the dress material
around my head and waited to see what food we had.

"If we ration ourselves I think we have enough food and
water for three or four days, maybe more. It's mainly bread and some cured
meat, also a little cheese which we should eat first." She opened one of
the boxes and passed me some bread and cheese, trying to remember my manners I
waited for her to start.

"Bon app tit." She declared, then took
her first bite.

Gently smiling at my puzzled look, Jemi said,
"It means enjoy your meal, in French."

"Bon app tit." I tried back.

Jemi spoke rapidly as she ate "Where do you think
our closest land is? I think we might be closer to the West Indies than we are
to America. We should head north westerly; also I think there'll be more
trading vessels in that direction, more chance of being rescued."

I smiled at her enthusiasm and at her knowledge, "How
are we going to make a sail?" I asked.

She pointed at one of the benches in the boat, "That
one has a hole in it, we can stand the oar up in it and use your belt
to lash it tightly, if that works we'll use some of my dress to make a sail. As
the sun goes down we'll know which way is west."

She must have seen the worried look on my face, "Don't
you think it'll work?" she asked.

"It's not that." I clarified.

"What then?" She said in a puzzled state.

I went bright red, "My britches will fall down without
my belt."

Jemi tried but couldn't stop herself from laughing,
"Oh Davy that's so funny, you'l