Chapter 3

3

MAY 22, 1727 CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

Before I opened my eyes the next morning, I was aware of the cold, wet earth beneath me. Slowly, I blinked awake and found myself in the cover of trees just off the main road into Charleston. I'd come this way with Grandfather several times and knew I was less than a mile away from the heart of the city.

I sat up and winced. My neck and back were stiff from lying on the hard ground. The cloth I had used to bind my chest was loose, and my shoulder-length hair had fallen out of the ribbon. My clothing and skin were damp from the dew, but I would soon dry.

Urgency pushed me as I stood and unbuttoned the vest I had borrowed and then untucked the cotton shirt underneath. The linen cloth covering my chest was long and narrow, so I had to wrap it around several times, as tight as possible. It was uncomfortable, but no worse than a corset, which I had left behind. When I lowered my shirt and tucked it into the knee-length breeches, then buttoned up the brown vest, I felt confident I could pass as a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy. I had feminine features, but so did a lot of younger boys. I carried myself with proper, ladylike deportment, but I could change that, too.

I slipped my leather tricorn hat over my hair and buckled my shoes, ready to continue my flight to Nassau.

I pushed thoughts of the Dingo Bar and Irene out of my head. She'd protested all the way back to the hotel the night before, but we had made a deal. I couldn't risk getting in trouble—or worse, hurting my father's reputation. My brothers were trying to do a fine job of that already. Andrew had left his work at the bank to bootleg alcohol from Canada into Minnesota, and Thomas was getting paid to cover up criminal activity in Saint Paul. If my parents knew the truth, they'd be devastated. If their enemies knew the truth, they'd be ruined.

Instead, I focused on today as I stepped onto the road. The sun had not yet crested the horizon, and I suddenly realized something important was missing.

My diamond necklace.

I stopped and searched every pocket, every crevice, and every hem of my clothing, but the weight of the necklace was not there. Running back to the forest, I looked all over the ground where I had slept, behind the boulder where I relieved myself, and along the trail I had taken in and out of the covering.

But the necklace was nowhere to be found.

Panic seized me, and I tried to think. How would I book passage on a ship if I didn't have money? Part of me wanted to follow the road back the way I had come, but there was no time. Grandfather would wake soon, and he'd be on horseback looking for me. I didn't have a moment to lose.

With one final, desperate glance, I raced back to the road and continued toward Charleston.

My mind was spinning as I came into the outskirts of town and saw the harbor in the distance. The large masts of the ships beckoned me. There were dozens of them anchored in the harbor, representing freedom and answers. I had to find one heading to Nassau.

I moved quickly toward the wharves, remembering to walk like a boy, and stopped several people. "Are any of those ships going to Nassau?" I asked one person after the other.

I received shrugs and disgruntled scowls, but a haggard seaman finally nodded and said, "I believe the Adventurer is headed that way. Captain Frisk is signing on new crew members as we speak. Hop to it if ye're wantin' to be employed, boy."

I hadn't even considered the possibility of becoming a crew member, but the thought made my pulse race. I could get to Nassau without passage if I was employed by the ship's captain.

"Which ship is it?" I asked.

He pointed to one of the largest ships in the harbor. "The captain's overseeing the loading of cargo, but they'll be pulling anchor soon, so you'd best hurry."

"Thank you," I said as I started to run.

The freedom of trousers was a thing to behold. Not even in 1927 was I allowed such liberties, though other women had begun to wear them.

The smell of the sea turned my stomach as unwashed sailors yelled instructions to dockworkers and cargo was being loaded and unloaded from ships. The sun had just crested on the horizon, past the harbor, and made the ocean come alive with color.

I finally arrived at the place where I assumed they were loading cargo onto the Adventurer. The ship was in the harbor, so the dockworkers were moving boxes and barrels from a nearby warehouse onto a large boat to transfer to the ship. The man who appeared to be in charge was probably in his midthirties and wore a well-made frock coat over a silk waistcoat. His breeches matched his frock coat, and he had shiny brass buckles on his black shoes.

"Pardon me," I said, trying to make my voice sound less feminine as I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Grandfather hadn't already found me. I doubted he would know where to look right away, but he might eventually discover the truth. "Is this cargo meant for the Adventurer ?"

He glanced at me but didn't look long. "Aye." He took a step forward and motioned for one of the dockworkers to stop. "Not that barrel," he growled impatiently in a British accent. "I want the beer brought to the ship first, then the victuals. I won't say it again."

I waited, swallowing my nerves. If I couldn't find work on the ship, I might never get to my mother. I couldn't stay in Charleston long enough to work for passage. Grandfather would find me.

"I heard you're looking for crewmen," I said.

He turned to me, irritation in every movement. "You have experience?"

I wanted to say yes, but it wasn't true, and he'd learn it soon enough. "No, sir. But I'm a hard worker and I learn quick."

"I have no desire to take on inexperienced boys. The Caribbean is fraught with danger, and I don't need someone who will cause more trouble than he's worth." He moved around me and started walking down the dock.

I ran to catch up to him. "Please, sir." I tried not to let my voice shake with my fear. "I need the job. I'm willing to work night and day for my keep." I didn't have the kind of skills necessary to sail a ship, but I had some skills. "I can sew, haul water, cook, clean—anything you need."

He paused so abruptly that I almost ran into his back.

"How old are you, boy?" he asked as he looked me over.

"Four-fourteen, sir," I said, though I hated to lie.

He grabbed my upper arm and circled it with his fingers. "There's nothing to you."

I fought the urge to pull away. No one touched a refined woman in such a manner—but I forced myself not to flinch or react. He thought I was a boy and was treating me thusly.

"I'm strong," I said as I pulled from his grasp and lifted a barrel. It was heavier than I expected, but I heaved it onto my shoulder—desperation making me bold. "I need the job."

He squinted at me. "What are you running from?"

I couldn't say a loveless marriage to a simpleminded man, so I said, "A future I don't want, sir."

As I set the barrel down again, I stood before him and waited.

"I could use a cabin boy. It'll give you time to put some meat on your bones and learn the ropes. In a year or two, if you work hard, you could be a rigger or an able-bodied seaman."

I swallowed the excitement and nodded quickly.

"What's your name?"

I opened my mouth to say Caroline, but that wouldn't do. Grandfather had often told me that he needed a male to inherit his life's work and that he wished I had been born a Carl instead of a Caroline, so that was the name I would use.

"Carl Baldwin," I told him, taking my last name from 1927.

The captain nodded. "Help load the rest of the cargo onto the launch, Carl Baldwin. We'll pull anchor soon."

"Thank you, sir." I nodded quickly and then turned to help with the cargo. The sooner we left the harbor, the sooner I could breathe easily that Grandfather wouldn't find me.

I was on my way to Nassau—almost.

The sun was high as the ship left the harbor. I stood on the main deck, watching Charleston slip away as the crew set sail.

I had never been on a ship in this life and was surprised at how tight it was packed with cargo, livestock, and crewmen. Ducks, geese, and chickens squawked from their coops at the front of the ship, while piglets wandered the main deck uncaged. They squealed as the ship started to heave in the water and make its way out to sea. Cattle lowed in the ship's hold, and goats were tied up on the main deck, bleating their anger at leaving shore. I'd already seen two cats parading about the ship, one orange and the other black, and had been told they were there to catch the rats that inhabited the hold.

How long would it take for this vessel to smell like a barn? I had only been on the ship for a few hours, and I was already tired of the smell of pine tar, wet wood, tobacco smoke, and unwashed bodies. But I wouldn't complain, not even to myself. I was free of Grandfather's plans and on my way to find my mother. I could put up with unwelcome smells for a few weeks.

"Baldwin!" the quartermaster called to me from the quarterdeck where he was standing with the captain. "You're needed in the galley."

I shaded my eyes as I looked up at him and nodded.

My gaze roamed the ship for the galley as I tried not to appear inept or nervous. I had warned the captain that I was new to sailing—but I didn't want the rest of the crew to know the truth.

"It's in the bow," a sailor said as he stood beside me, pulling ropes hand over fist.

I turned to him, trying to remember I was supposed to be a boy and not a young woman. "Where?"

"There." He nodded his head toward the front of the ship. As he spoke, I noticed several of his teeth were missing. His skin was tanned dark from the sun and had a leather quality about it that spoke of the sea. "Through that hatch and down the ladder, ye'll find the cook in the galley." He chuckled. "I started out as a cabin boy meself. Ye'll find yer way, soon enough."

"Thank you." I nodded my appreciation and then made my way across the main deck, avoiding a collision with a piglet, and tried to stay out of the way as the crew raised the sails. It felt like I was listening to a foreign language as the crew yelled words I'd never heard before. Bowsprit , forecastle , mizzenmast , capstan , and ratlines .

The hatch was open, so I stepped onto the ladder, thankful again for my breeches.

More smells assailed me as I entered the galley. Woodsmoke, grease, and sweat among them. It was hot, and the ceiling was low. Barrels, cotton bags, and wooden boxes filled the room from floor to ceiling, so there was little space to move around. A large cookstove and a worktable were the central pieces of the room as utensils, pots, pans, and more swung from the rafters.

"So, they've found me some help, have they?" a man asked as he snarled at my arrival. He was a short fellow with a white apron covering his dirty clothes. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his face was greasy. "Are you any good, is what I want to know. Do ye have experience in a kitchen?"

"Aye, sir," I told him. I learned to cook and clean at a young age at the plantation. I could butcher chickens, pigs, and cows. I had planted and oversaw the vegetable gardens and knew how to harvest and preserve food, make cheese and butter, and cook or bake. In my 1927 life, I was taught many of the same basic skills, though we lived in Minneapolis and bought most of our meat at the butcher, the produce from the grocer, and the bread from the baker. Our milk was delivered once a week, and we had a hired girl who lived on the third floor and helped with the cooking and cleaning.

"We'll see if yer experience is good enough. I'm Harry," he said. "And ye'll be working for me when ye're not running for the captain or the quartermaster, ye understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have ye been told where ye'll sleep?"

I shook my head. "I haven't been told anything."

"Ye'll sleep with the crew in the forecastle."

I opened my mouth to inquire about the location of the forecastle, but he wasn't finished.

"'Tis just above us, at the front of the ship," he said. "Ye'll hang yer hammock between the cannons. The men have four-hour watches throughout the day and night, so they will be coming and going. Ye'll report for duty each morning at six bells, and we'll begin preparing the first meal of the day. The men get a gallon of beer a day, four pounds of beef a week, which they eat on Tuesdays and Saturdays, two pounds of salt pork..." He continued his litany of rations, but I could hardly keep up, wondering if I would need to know all this.

He began to work as he rambled on, instructing me to tote fresh water from a cistern to a barrel where we added several pounds of salt pork. It would have to soak for hours before he would boil it for the midday meal, which I was told was the largest meal of the day.

It was arduous work, and I began to sweat. The binding at my chest made it hard to take deep breaths, and it itched.

As the ship made its way out of the harbor and into the open water, it began to list slowly from side to side, making my head swim and my stomach turn.

I needed fresh air.

And, more importantly, I needed to relieve myself. But, for the first time since leaving the plantation, I realized the issue that this might be on a ship full of men.

A new sort of panic overcame me as I thought through the implications of this problem. Not only on a daily basis, but as a female. I would have monthly needs, as well.

Why hadn't I considered this issue?

I needed to at least know where to relieve myself, and then perhaps I could make a plan from there.

When I told Harry what I needed, he said I could use the head. "'Tis at the bow of the ship. There's a tow-rag hanging in the water if you need it. But be quick about it."

I wasn't sure what a tow-rag was, but I nodded nonetheless. I climbed the ladder to the main deck and looked left and right, trying to orient myself. The ship wasn't nearly as big as the one I sailed on to reach France in 1927, but it was bigger than most I'd seen in the harbor at Charleston. Harry had told me there were three dozen crewmen aboard, and most of them looked like they were busy getting the ship underway.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but there was a door at the front of the deck, so I opened it and found a room with hammocks hung between the cannons. This must be the forecastle where I would sleep later.

It was empty—though I couldn't find anywhere that could be confused with the head.

There was another door on the opposite end of the room. I gingerly opened it, hoping no one else was using the toilet.

Thankfully, this area was empty, as well, and offered a little bit of privacy since it was behind the forecastle and at the front of the ship. There were holes cut into the wooden head for the purpose I sought and a long rope nearby that dangled in the water. It didn't take long for me to realize what that was for, though the thought of using the same tow-rag as everyone else was disgusting.

What else hadn't I considered? Surely, I would be shocked and appalled at each turn.

If they discovered I was a woman, I wouldn't be safe in their company, and I would probably be abandoned at the closest port of call.

A dozen thoughts mocked me—but I wouldn't let them deter me. I had to do this. I couldn't go the rest of my life without talking to my mother. And if I hadn't come, I would have been forced into a life of marital drudgery and unhappiness.

No. I had made the right decision, regardless of the unpleasantries and risks I would endure.

As long as they didn't discover I was a woman, I could suffer almost anything.