CHAPTER NINETEEN
Then I will praise God’s name with singing, and I will honor him with thanksgiving.
(Psalms 69:30)
One day, I woke up very early, long before dawn. Climbing the ladder, I crept unseen past sleeping sailors to stand at the rail. A tiny sliver of moon was still showing on the western horizon, casting a thin, silvery beam on the dark, endless sea. Dawn was only a few minutes away. Since the epidemic, I’d been given free rein of the ship, which enabled me to travel around to check on patients not in my immediate area of accommodation.
“Good morning, Mrs. Keeney,” Captain Jabson said at my elbow, startling me. “How are you faring?”
“Very well, Captain. How goes our journey?”
“Extremely promising. This be our sixty-first day out of Plymouth and yesterday’s noon sighting gave me a position very near the 42nd parallel of North Latitude. But all this probably means very little to you.”
“On the contrary, Captain, I’m from a sailing family and the words are familiar. Just where does that put us, then?”
“Just east of Cape Cod, ma’am. I’ll now head her west, the weather being clear, until we make land.”
“We’re ahead of schedule, then.”
“Yes, ma’am, by about a week. The storm actually helped, rather than hindered us. It blew us in the right direction.”
“Must be the providence of God.”
“Must be. Well, I’ve got duties. Have a pleasant day, Mrs. Keeney.” He tipped his cap and sauntered away with the walk of an experienced sailor. It wasn’t too long before my new brother-in-law, Henry Tibbets happened my way.
“Good morning, Mrs. Keeney,” he said, smiling that toothy grin of his that I knew Mary had fallen in love with. He fairly bubbled with excitement. “We’re very near land—can’t you smell it?”
“Actually, no, Henry, not being a sailor. But I’m sure you can.”
“Yes, ma’am. Even the color of the sea has changed from indigo to emerald. All night we slatted and rolled in an oily calm. At midnight when the watch changed, the dipsy lead showed no bottom at a hundred fathoms. But this morning everything was different. Mate Clark thinks the signs look as if we are getting in on to soundings. We’ll be on land soon. Well, I’ve to go before I gets caught meandering.”
Smiling at his retreating figure, I turned back to the rail. One by one, the stars were winking out, as the tiny sliver of moon disappeared. Walking to the other side of the ship, I waited for the coming dawn. The sky was beginning to pinken. As the sun cleared the eastern horizon and daylight filled the Confidence’s sails with wind, the placid ocean around me was filled with light. It flooded with sheer gold the eastern heavens. What a beautiful morning!
Suddenly, Captain Jabson’s voice rang out. “Bring her up to her course, Master Clark, as soon as she gets steerage-way! Turn-to the watch and heave the lead! Send a man aloft to the main-top lookout!” His orders tumbled out thick and fast. Sleepy sailors crawled out from coils of rigging under the weather rail, rubbing their eyes. The deep-sea lead-line was run forward outside the weather rigging, and the grizzled leadsman took his place outside the mizzen shrouds.
Up the main ratlines clambered Henry Tibbets to the lookout. The tall ship swung slowly around on her heel to her west course again, under the push of the breeze coming up with the sunrise. Leaving the rail, I strolled over to a large coil of rope and sat down to be out of the way of the sailors scurrying around obeying the captain’s orders. If I became invisible, the captain might allow me to remain topside. I had a feeling that today would be special and I wanted to experience it.
The singsong rhythm of the old leadman’s voice as he called the marks and deeps, echoed musically back from top and sprit-sail. I watched as bits of red and white rag and little strips of leather, marking the depths up to twenty fathoms, zipped through his gnarled but experienced hand. Strands of marline, showing twenty—thirty—forty—fifty fathoms, disappeared into the mysterious blue to the tune of his ritual.
Then, suddenly, surprised out of his regular drone, his voice snapped into an excited staccato. “And—bottom—at—eighty—fathoms, sir!” it rang out clear and unmistakable. My heart leaped at the words—eighty fathoms was surprisingly shallow. But even better words were coming. From the maintop lookout broke out the excited voice of Henry Tibbets: “La-a-nd Ho-o!! La-a-nd Ho-o! La-a-nd Ho-o!! La-a-nd Ho-o!” It came like a sequel to the chanting troll of on board—a mighty cheer arose from every part of the ship. And Holy Ghost goose bumps broke out on my arms.
“Where away?” yelled Captain Jabson, as he sprang for a shear-pole and swung himself up into the mizzen rigging to see for himself.
Unmindful of my position, I rushed to the rail, straining my eyes for some small glimmer of green.
“Two points on the weather bow, sir!” came back the quick response; and as the first level rays of the sun struck fair into the loom ahead, there it lay, stretching to the north and south as far as the eye could reach, just a small sliver of green. Land! Home! And John!
As if to strike the high hour of victory, the ship’s bell chimed out the hour of ten—ding-dong! Against all the captain’s explicit orders, half-dressed men, women, and children crowded up from below and clambered to the rail and rigging. Sea-tortured eyes strained through tears of joy toward the promised land that was to be their home. In all the beauty of the golden sun it lay before us, the answer to our prayers, and the land of our desires! Agnes and the children suddenly appeared at my side and we clasped each other in an intimate embrace.
Suddenly, voices broke out into song:
“Praise God, from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Him above ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”
The crossing of our ‘Jordan’ had finally been accomplished—before us laid the Promised Land.
*************
Daylight shoved up clear over the rim of a slick sea. It flooded with sheer gold the eastern heavens and dimmed the waning quarter of the old moon hanging in mid-sky. Spilling down over a softly undulating ocean, it crept westward until it broke against a lone ship, becalmed, and lazily lifting and listing to the ground swell. Slowly, she headed into the harbor, approaching the dock like a lazy swan.
On the wharf, four men stood facing the sea, squinting their eyes in an attempt to see through the rapidly disappearing fog. The brothers and the young boy had come early to the dock, hoping that today would be the day. An old bearded sea captain had told them the day before that he was certain he had spotted the Confidence in his wake on June 13th.
For a moment, a ship stood out peculiar and spectral, a gray silhouette against the western blur of night. Then every rippling fold of her idle canvas, rhythmically swishing and slapping against chafed spars, became a shimmering cloth of gold in the wake of the morning. Slowly lifting her high poop up out of a trough of shadows into the sun, the windowed galleries blazed back in radiance. A weathered scroll across the stern, crusted with salt and bedimmed by the night’s dew, turned to luster under the magic touch and revealed the golden legend:
“CONFIDENCE OF SOUTHAMPTON”
A curious old turkey gull suddenly dipped out of the west and shrilly “keeyakked” his utter astonishment at this apparition of a ship under sail invading his territory.
The brothers, so different in looks and demeanor, but alike in desires and dreams, embraced each other in excitement and lifted their eyes heavenward in thankfulness to God for bringing their families safely to America. And alongside the brothers stood a much-grown Henry, straining his eyes for a glimpse of the vessel that carried his precious mother, whom he hadn’t seen in nearly three years. Would she remember him? What would she think of him now—all grown and nearly a man. Would she be proud of him? Tears pricked his eyes as he thought of her. Suddenly, unable to contain his boyish excitement he cried, “Look, Father, there she is! Mother’s come home!”
*************
Aboard ship, I awoke to a gentle difference in sensation. The usual movement of the ship was changed, somehow—more choppy. It was early, just past dawn, I surmised. No one was awake. After sighting land, it had taken another day to reach that small sliver of green we had all marveled at. Standing, I stretched my sore muscles, and made my way to the ladder. I could tell that it was dreadfully foggy. Halfway up, I met Henry Tibbets coming down.
“We’ve arrived in Hingham, Mrs. Keeney. Will you awaken the other passengers?”
“We’ve actually made it?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ain’t it exciting?” He turned and scampered back up the ladder. I turned around to find Agnes standing before me.
“Did I hear right? We’ve arrived?”
“Yes. Will you help me inform the others?”
“Certainly. I wonder whether John and William are awaiting us?”
“If I know our husbands, they’ve been in Hingham for many days now.”
Informing the other passengers, caused a mass exodus from the cabins, as men, women and children crowded the rail, hoping to catch a glimpse of loved ones awaiting them. Agnes and I, along with the children, strained our eyes, and finally Arthur was the first to see his father, uncle and elder brother waving at us from the dock.
“Look, Mother, there’s Father and Uncle William! Can you see them? There on the dock.” He pointed, stretching his little body to reach over the rail, hoping to be seen. “Hello! Hello!” he called.
Following the line of his finger, I finally spotted my husband yelling and whooping, and thumping his brother on the back. I bellowed out his name and waved. Finally, Agnes and the others saw them too, and began to gesticulate and scream. Before long, the air was filled with the sound of many voices and hundreds of waving arms. Then suddenly my gaze caught a somewhat familiar face standing on the dock, smiling and waving. At first, I thought it was Alexander, just a little taller. But then I caught sight of Alexander standing alongside his uncle, William. Well, who in the world is that, then?
All of a sudden I realized: It’s Henry! I couldn’t believe my eyes. The son I’d thought I’d never see again was standing on the dock waiting for me. Tears began streaming down my face as I switched my gaze from my husband to my sons and back again and again. My arms ached to hold all of them. Finally, the tears were so many that I couldn’t see, and I hastily brushed them from my eyes and began waving and shouting along with the others.
It took an extraordinary amount of time to come to rest at the dock. Finally, the gangplank was lowered and we were allowed to begin to disembark. By that time, the whole area before us had filled with people, come to collect their loved ones from across the sea. I could see John standing beside a couple of barrels and he filled my vision. He smiled and I smiled back, so glad to see him after a year’s separation. The children were jumping and screeching beside me, but I paid them no mind. All I could see was my husband. He looked the same, but a little older somehow, his face weathered from the hard work of preparing for our arrival.
Tearing my gaze away from John, I saw William grinning at Agnes. I turned to find her smiling back with tears streaming down her face.
“We made it,” she was saying under her breath. “I can’t believe it. We made it.”
Jeremy and Red came up to stand beside me, and I saw John’s face suddenly harden and his smile was completely wiped away. I had forgotten that John didn’t know the real Jeremy—the now child-of-God, Jeremy—the Jeremy Tibbets that I now knew to be kind and sincere. It would take some doing—a very act of God—for John to accept Jeremy as a brother-in-law.
But contrary to what Agnes believed, I knew my husband. He wasn’t a harsh man—he was kind and loving and most of all, he was forgiving—he was Jesus on earth to me. I hoped that when he finally got to meet a saved and serving Jeremy Tibbets, he’d graciously welcome him into our lives. I prepared for the reunion, not really knowing what to expect, but just knowing that: The Lord will work it all out—He always does.
To Be Continued
Watch for Book 2 coming in the Summer of 2013!
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