Chapter 9
By the end of the week, the paperwork was set in order and Mr. Ashby had begun his official tasks as purser, with which we could not help.
Certain aspects of his responsibilities were confidential, as well as too complex for my limited comprehension regarding the job.
The mood in the room had changed, and I couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
Mr. Ashby’s brow began furrowing more and more.
Perhaps it was simply his way. I didn’t know him well enough to comment on the change, did I?
So despite my curiosity, I sat in the office with nothing to do for far too long.
I finally told Mr. Ashby that Patrice and I would no longer accompany him.
A few emotions crossed his face, but he seemed relieved overall.
I wondered if my presence had become a burden to him already.
Would he ever have told us to leave on his own?
He sighed, nodding. “Very well. Go out onto the deck while I finish this and I’ll meet you there soon.”
I watched him return to his work, his brows furrowing again. Leaving him to his tasks was definitely a good decision.
Bookkeeping, while not exactly thrilling, had its rewards.
My mind felt stimulated, if my body felt a bit stifled.
As I walked outside, the sea breeze on my face was a treat beyond anything else, like a reward for a job well done.
Of course, one might argue that I could have enjoyed the sea air all day if I wished, rather than staying in the purser’s office.
But now that the work had been completed, for me at least, I felt a little listless.
The crease between Mr. Ashby’s eyebrows entered my thoughts.
Should I have asked if something was distressing him?
Patrice’s voice interrupted my worries. “Another beautiful day, eh, Miss?”
“Aye, that it is, Patrice.” I smiled into the sunshine and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I saw nothing but blue in every direction.
A thought suddenly surfaced and came spilling out. “He should’ve asked me to go with him.”
“Graham?” Patrice asked thoughtfully.
“Yes. I could’ve been with him these past three years. He’s a daft fool.”
“He had yer best interest in mind, Miss.”
“He underestimated me. Still does.” I was coming dangerously close to hating Graham for everything he’d put me through.
At times like this, I had to remind myself that loving him was a part of me.
I’d always loved Graham and only Graham.
I imagined him being there in front of me, smiling and laughing with me.
Of course, along that vein of thinking there was only more heartbreak.
My sigh was heavy. This would all be sorted once we reached St. Kitts. I had to believe that.
“What now, Miss Findlay?” Mr. Ashby said from behind me. He took a position next to me on the gunwale, placing his hands atop it and gazing at the ocean like I had been doing. “Now that you’ve completed all you could with bookkeeping, what should you like to do?”
“What can a lady do on a ship, in a dress, amongst men?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Shall I wear trousers and learn how to swab?”
“I wouldn’t be the one to hold you back, Miss Findlay, if that’s what you wanted.” He put his hands behind his back. “But I don’t think swabbing is quite as interesting as what I had in mind.”
My interest piqued. “Oh?”
“If you’ll both follow me, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
He led us toward the bow, then went beneath the ladder that led up to the forecastle and knocked on a door I’d not noticed before. Master Navigator was engraved on it. We had been on the ship for about a week and there was still so much to learn, not to mention people to meet.
A short, wrinkled, bespectacled man opened and looked between Mr. Ashby and me.
“If it isn’t the famed purser, Arthur Ashby.
” He pulled up his wrinkled mouth into a delighted smile.
His voice was gravelly and somewhat slurred, as was typical for men of advanced age.
“Surely my accounts are not in question…” He raised a furry white eyebrow.
Part of a purser’s job was to keep a running record of the crew’s credits and rations, I had learned. I looked at Mr. Ashby for his response. Perhaps that was why we were here. Did he want me to approach the crew regarding their accounts?
Mr. Ashby placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.
“Nonsense, Tallow. I simply have a request of you. Miss Findlay has been helping me in the office, but she has run out of things to do. She has a quick mind and is a ready student.” He glanced at me with a smile, probably noting my confused expression.
“I wonder if you’d be willing to take her on as an apprentice navigator.
And her companion, Miss Patrice, if she wishes to learn. ”
Tallow looked Patrice and me over and clicked his tongue in thought.
It was not difficult to assume he would reject Mr. Ashby’s proposal, considering my gender.
But his eyes were clear of any disapproval.
“Well, I’ve been navigating for over forty years and have never taught a woman before.
I have three ship’s boys to teach on this voyage.
” He nodded. “You’re both welcome to join them.
There is a first time for everything, even at my age.
” He laughed lightly, his good nature showing through.
Navigation! My eyes widened with eagerness at the prospect of learning how to use a sextant and the stars as a map across the seas.
Grinning at his quick acceptance, I bowed my head at him. “Thank you, Mr. Tallow. I’d be honored to learn from you.” Patrice echoed my sentiments, smiling at the elderly man.
Mr. Ashby watched us with a knowing smirk.
He saw me narrow my eyes at him, and I wondered if he could read my mind.
You have surprised me, I thought. We hadn’t been acquainted long, and yet he knew I’d take on this challenge.
I searched his eyes with a new appreciation for his character. His intuition may yet rival my own.
Tallow motioned for us to follow him into the small room, and Mr. Ashby lifted a hand for Patrice and me to go first. Upon entering, I observed it doubled as both cabin and office.
A hammock hung on one side of the space, and a large desk took up the rest of it.
A boy of about fifteen stopped arranging items on its surface and stared open-mouthed at Patrice, then at me.
I smiled and dipped my head at him in greeting.
He closed his mouth and stood still as a statue while Tallow meandered around the small space with a slight limp, groaning loudly as he sat in his chair.
I held back a laugh at the obvious display of age, and I saw the boy suppress a smile, too, before he looked away from me.
“Now, Miss Findlay, what do you know of navigation thus far?” Mr. Tallow asked.
I glanced at Mr. Ashby, who nodded encouragingly to me, and I answered honestly. “Close to nothing, sir.”
He clicked his tongue again. “You’ve given me a true novice, Mr. Ashby. She is mighty pretty, though. Isn’t she, Ridley?” He glanced over his shoulder at the boy, who nodded. “Will you be joining us, Purser?”
“I thought I would today; it has been a while since I sat in on your lessons.”
“Very well, very well. Come closer, then, all of you.” He gestured for us to pull seats up surrounding the desk.
Ridley sat next to his teacher. Or rather, our teacher.
Tallow began, his voice animated as he introduced us to the mechanics of navigation.
He held out the octant and sextant, showed his current calculations, and handed me a book about navigation called A Mariner’s New Calendar to begin reading.
At the end of my first lesson, I walked happily with Patrice and Mr. Ashby to the galley for dinner, looking forward to perusing the book in my hands.
I anticipated that I would read it aloud to Patrice so we could study together.
We sat at the table we’d somehow claimed as ours after dishing ourselves what the cook had prepared.
“Thank you for introducing me to Mr. Tallow. He is a lovely old man,” I said to Mr. Ashby.
“I quite enjoy him,” he said. “He was on the ship where I first met Graham. He has aged quite a bit since then.” He took a swig of his drink. “It is miraculous he still works, and so accurately. His reputation is flawless.”
“Did you ever try to recruit him for your own fleet?” I wondered.
He shrugged, chewing his bite of bread. “I could not afford him.” Then, swallowing, he mused in a lower voice, “In truth, I’m not sure how Captain Selton affords him…”
There was that furrowed brow again. I knew it meant something. He was worried about the accounts, surely. Was it an appropriate place and time to ask about it, though? There were crew members all around us. I would have to ask him more discreetly later. We ate in silence for several minutes.
“Did Graham learn from him?” I had finished my food and leaned back in my chair to hear Mr. Ashby’s answer.
“Indeed.” He smiled wryly. “But they didn’t always get along.
He was arguing with Tallow once about when we would arrive at our next port, and I stood between them.
‘Anderson,’ I said—and keep in mind, we had already become good friends by this time—I said, ‘You don’t question Edward Tallow’s accuracy.
’” Mr. Ashby shook his head at the memory.
“Graham didn’t deal well with criticism.
I would have made an enemy of him had I not already earned his respect. ”
Suddenly, my perception of Graham blurred.
To hear that he had been impertinent and prideful, and toward a man like Tallow, shocked me.
I had never seen him as anything but honorable.
My heart stuttered in my chest. “You know facets of Graham that I do not believe I ever will,” I said quietly, almost to myself.