hardly a professional singer, Andrew thought, but his voice gave a soulful feeling to the music. Fingers snapped and toes tapped the deck. “ His sheep never stray, dancin’ all day till they see the pale and yellow moon ….”
Stokes threw his cards on the table and jumped up. He seductively swayed his hips as his feet carried him around the room. All the sailors smiled as he passed their table—all, that is, except Hudson.
Kelso struck a feminine pose, batting his eyelashes and poofing up his hair like a brash schoolgirl. Wolf whistles soared as Stokes danced over and took Kelso in his arms. As they twirled around the room, onlookers cheered each difficult move and whistled at every lewd gesture.
“ Wail on, shepherd, let it echo through the hills ….”
As Andrew played, he kept an eye on every man in the room. Kelso and Stokes performed their lewd boogie, others returned to their card games and writing letters. Hudson, having lost his audience, frowned.
Andrew noticed Smitty, the redheaded coxswain who had stared him down in the whaleboat. He skulked toward the hatch with his head bent, and disappeared through it.
Andrew had only been aboard a day, but that was enough time to notice that most of the enlisted crew had a talent for expressing obscenities. Smitty, however, managed to squeeze the word “fuck” into every sentence. If he felt particularly good or particularly frustrated, he used the word three or four times per sentence. That didn’t make him guilty, but Andrew now had a particular feeling about him.
Andrew and Grady performed three more tunes before calling it quits. The men groaned, wanting more.
“If you play like that,” Stokes said, slapping Andrew on the shoulder, “you must have some Louisiana bayou blood in you somewhere.”
“Yeah,” Hudson said, and spat on the deck. “He ain’t your regular kind of chink.”
A muffled, pinging noise sounded overhead, making everyone look up. A collective sigh propagated through the hall. The squall that had crawled toward the ship all day had finally overtaken them and engulfed the ship with rain.
The men, one after another, piled through the hatchway and ran to their lockers. Andrew was last to leave. He climbed through the hatch and stepped into the cooler temperatures brought on by the squall. Heavy raindrops stuck his face.
Rain. The clean scent of it reached into Andrew’s lungs and lifted his heart. Yes, he thought, even this steel hell has an element as pure as rain . He tilted his face up and opened his mouth, gathering a mouthful of freshness.
The wind drove sheets of water against the ship, rainfall so heavy that Andrew couldn’t see the shoreline or the other ships at anchor. Even in that protected bay, the Pilgrim rocked like a native woman’s hips as she meandered along the beach. Outside the reef, on the open sea, white, foamy jets leaped into the air.
Turning forward, Andrew saw most of the crew grouped together on the quarterdeck, bathing naked in the wild rain. Waves broke across the deck, hurling seawater over their ankles as the ship pitched side to side. They scrubbed themselves from scalp to toes while leaning into the wind-driven rain.
They all had deeply tanned faces and arms, but their bodies glowed a pale white; all except Hudson, who had an apelike pelt covering his chest, back, shoulders and legs.
Andrew smiled boyishly at the sight of eighty naked men drenched in lather and rain. He ran to his locker, ripped off his clothes, and grabbed his cake of Lifebuoy soap. On deck, the rain buffeted his amber skin with force. He felt reluctant to join the others, but he saw Grady on the fringe of the bathers and rushed to stand beside him.
A joyous excitement animated the party, as if the men were all happily drunk. Swept up in the energy, Andrew surprised himself by laughing out loud.
He turned away from the crowd to let Grady scrub his back, and there, above him, stood Mitchell under the bridge awning. Their
Stokes threw his cards on the table and jumped up. He seductively swayed his hips as his feet carried him around the room. All the sailors smiled as he passed their table—all, that is, except Hudson.
Kelso struck a feminine pose, batting his eyelashes and poofing up his hair like a brash schoolgirl. Wolf whistles soared as Stokes danced over and took Kelso in his arms. As they twirled around the room, onlookers cheered each difficult move and whistled at every lewd gesture.
“ Wail on, shepherd, let it echo through the hills ….”
As Andrew played, he kept an eye on every man in the room. Kelso and Stokes performed their lewd boogie, others returned to their card games and writing letters. Hudson, having lost his audience, frowned.
Andrew noticed Smitty, the redheaded coxswain who had stared him down in the whaleboat. He skulked toward the hatch with his head bent, and disappeared through it.
Andrew had only been aboard a day, but that was enough time to notice that most of the enlisted crew had a talent for expressing obscenities. Smitty, however, managed to squeeze the word “fuck” into every sentence. If he felt particularly good or particularly frustrated, he used the word three or four times per sentence. That didn’t make him guilty, but Andrew now had a particular feeling about him.
Andrew and Grady performed three more tunes before calling it quits. The men groaned, wanting more.
“If you play like that,” Stokes said, slapping Andrew on the shoulder, “you must have some Louisiana bayou blood in you somewhere.”
“Yeah,” Hudson said, and spat on the deck. “He ain’t your regular kind of chink.”
A muffled, pinging noise sounded overhead, making everyone look up. A collective sigh propagated through the hall. The squall that had crawled toward the ship all day had finally overtaken them and engulfed the ship with rain.
The men, one after another, piled through the hatchway and ran to their lockers. Andrew was last to leave. He climbed through the hatch and stepped into the cooler temperatures brought on by the squall. Heavy raindrops stuck his face.
Rain. The clean scent of it reached into Andrew’s lungs and lifted his heart. Yes, he thought, even this steel hell has an element as pure as rain . He tilted his face up and opened his mouth, gathering a mouthful of freshness.
The wind drove sheets of water against the ship, rainfall so heavy that Andrew couldn’t see the shoreline or the other ships at anchor. Even in that protected bay, the Pilgrim rocked like a native woman’s hips as she meandered along the beach. Outside the reef, on the open sea, white, foamy jets leaped into the air.
Turning forward, Andrew saw most of the crew grouped together on the quarterdeck, bathing naked in the wild rain. Waves broke across the deck, hurling seawater over their ankles as the ship pitched side to side. They scrubbed themselves from scalp to toes while leaning into the wind-driven rain.
They all had deeply tanned faces and arms, but their bodies glowed a pale white; all except Hudson, who had an apelike pelt covering his chest, back, shoulders and legs.
Andrew smiled boyishly at the sight of eighty naked men drenched in lather and rain. He ran to his locker, ripped off his clothes, and grabbed his cake of Lifebuoy soap. On deck, the rain buffeted his amber skin with force. He felt reluctant to join the others, but he saw Grady on the fringe of the bathers and rushed to stand beside him.
A joyous excitement animated the party, as if the men were all happily drunk. Swept up in the energy, Andrew surprised himself by laughing out loud.
He turned away from the crowd to let Grady scrub his back, and there, above him, stood Mitchell under the bridge awning. Their