WE SET SAIL AGAIN after a morning spent foraging in the thickets for any food that might later offer nourishment, three separate groups travelling in three separate directions, but only one was successful and when they returned to the camp with armfuls of berries their mouths were red and stained dark with juices and I knew that they had indulged themselves just as much as I had done a few days previously. We loaded ourselves back into the tub and set sail northwest by west-northwest and Mr Fryer and Peter Linkletter steered us quickly and carefully through the reefs, avoiding any trouble with the rocks below and delivering us out into wider waters without incident. I had a moment of great joy when, observing some fish passing by our stern and in towards the reefs, I plunged both hands together into the water and then pulled them up just as suddenly, and to my surprise a great white fish leapt, startled, out of the surf and found itself landing not in the water again but on the deck of our launch. Great delight was taken by all at this, for there was nothing like a fish to make a tasty supper, and the captain clapped me on the back to congratulate me and the men called me a fine fellow indeed and I began to think that perhaps I was forgiven for losing the spear during our voyage.
The waters were peaceful that afternoon and my thoughts turned back to Otaheite and the men who had driven us from the safety of the Bounty to the danger of the tub. It had been more than a month now since we had set forth on our adventures and I wondered how life had treated Mr Christian and his ilk during the same period. They would have returned to the island immediately, that was for sure, but whether they had been able to stay there was a different matter entirely. After all, they would assume that should we survive we would return home to England and the admirals would send another ship to hunt them down. It was my guess that the pirates would take the women they wanted and find another island near by. There were so many hundreds of them dotted around that part of the ocean that it would have been no great hardship for them to locate a remote one, difficult to access, and set up their new homes there, perhaps sinking the Bounty entirely so that they might never be spotted.
On the other hand, they might have stayed on Otaheite, safe in the assumption that the nineteen men who had once been their fellow sailors and friends would have died quickly, drowned in those southern Pacific waters, and that the truth of their cowardice and depravity would never emerge. Despite the differences I had with many of those men and officers, it saddened me to think that they would be happy to see me dead.
As evening fell, a great commotion came upon the launch when David Nelson, William Cole and William Purcell – the three men who had united to become the successful group of food-finders earlier in the day – began to complain of great pains in their stomachs and a pounding in their heads behind their eyes. Surgeon Ledward examined them and we each of us watched as he held their wrists between thumb and forefinger and pressed the flat of his palm to their bellies and nether regions. He approached the captain immediately and they spoke in hushed tones that I believe only Mr Elphinstone and I had access to.
‘They are poisoned, sir,’ said the surgeon. ‘You saw them when they returned from their foraging. They have eaten too many of the berries. I suggest that they were poisonous berries.’
‘Good God,’ replied the captain, stroking his beard and looking worried at the thought of it. ‘You think they will be taken from us?’
‘Probably not,’ he answered, shaking his head. ‘I do think they will have a day or two of the most appalling pains, though. It will not go easy for them.’
‘Let us avoid the use of the word poison, then,’ insisted Mr Bligh. ‘It will do our morale no good and will not change the present conditions.’ He stood up then and made his way down the launch to our three stricken fellows. ‘It seems that you have eaten more than your fill of berries while on Fair Cape, and our bellies are not ready for such abuse. You have naught to worry about, though. Like all things, these pains will pass.’
William Purcell seemed less than happy about this diagnosis and gave out a great cry of agony even as he clutched his stomach and pulled his knees up closer towards his chest, but the captain merely nodded at him as if this was the end of the matter and returned to his seat.
That night was filled with the groaning of the three men and as the light grew dim and we were surrounded by darkness I confess I had murderous thoughts towards them, for, uncharitable of me as it was, I confess they fair gave me the chills every time they let out another cry of agony.