Foam blew across the forepeak like scudding clouds as the British 74 gun man-o-war raced down the side of a wave. Not quite at storm level, still the wind was blowing swells of ten feet and more, and the mighty warship climbed up one side and flew down the other.
The crew that had been up on the Flemish Horses far above the deck taking in sail were now below. Only the most experienced hands could tolerate this kind of tossing without seasickness, so in addition to the smells of 500 bodies crammed shoulder to shoulder for over a year, and the rotten stench of the bilge, there was the fresh odor of vomit.
No one was particularly unhappy, however, as they were used to the conditions, and in sight of England, after more than 14 months at sea. They were returning with some fair amount of prize money as well, so those without families to take their earnings would be drinking and whoring by this time tomorrow.
Among the crew was one with a special reason to be upbeat. He was the cabin boy, who had served Vice Admiral Sir Clifford Thompson this entire trip. His only thought was escape. To that end he had stolen a few short barrel staves and tied them around his body. He snuck on deck, and when the ship hit the valley between two waves, and paused her forward motion as though grabbed by a monster of the deep, he leapt from the side.
He knew no one would see him go, and counted on the heavy weather to ensure no rescue attempt if he should be seen. He would rather take his chances swimming to shore than the possibility of another voyage.
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The wind that blew the ship offshore had brought only a smattering of rain to London. There, near the docks, a small boy who appeared younger than his eighteen years was waiting for any ship that was outward bound. Starving, so hungry he could barely pull the rags around him, he knew that no danger of the sea could be worse than the dangers he faced on land. His name was Johnny Silk, and he was 5' tall, about 7 stone, and as scrawny as a girl. He had a tousle of bright red hair, and a face that was devoid of even the first whiskers of manhood.
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As these things do sometimes, the HMS Dangerous, a giant of a ship captained by none other than Vice Admiral Thompson himself tied up before night, and loosed a flood of men eager to get on shore and dispense with their loads of gold, thirst, and semen.
As soon as the ship was settled, running on a minimum guard, but always guarded as one of the most powerful battle ships in the world, Johnny skittered up the gang-plank.
"Halt, who goes there?" came immediately from one of the Maries on duty.
"Tis I, Johnny Silk, applying for a position as a Seaman, sir."
"Seaman, is it? Rated, you are?" The marine snorted in contempt. "If you're a day over 14 I'll fuck a pig."
"Can a young lad not find work on a ship such as this, then? I'll prove my worth."
"The Bo 'sun will make that decision, boy, and he'll be drunk until tomorrow, certainly."
"Then is there any way I might get a crust of bread to hold me until then?" Johnny was shivering, and his teeth chattered with the cold.
The old Marine, who had seen hundreds like him come on board for a life at sea only to be cut in half by a cannon ball, or die of scurvy, took pity. "Surely we can find a bit of biscuit that's still edible, and perhaps some scrap of cheese."
So Johnny was not quite as desperate when the bleary-eyed Bo 'sun's Mate looked him over.
"Most volunteers come to us when we're leaving, not as we get to shore. Why are you in such a hurry?" He knew full well than many escaped prisoners and various low lifers tried to escape by joining the King's Navy; the Navy couldn't run without them.
"I have my reasons," was all Johnny said. Fair enough.
"Welcome to the Navy. You'll have a few days to help us get ship-shape before we're off again. I suspect with your size and lack of skill you'll only be the cabin boy."
"I'll take it and gladly."
"Then get below and they'll show you where to swing your hammock."
Johnny had good reason to be here when and where he was. He was escaping an intolerable life that was to be his if he should stay; Johnny wasn't a boy at all. 'He' was Silky St. Johns, a young woman who had been promised in marriage to the Barron of High Moor, an enormously obese and slimy eyed man who had licked his lips and developed an odd tightness of his pantaloons when he met his prospective bride.
To be trapped with that man, unable to leave, raped every night --for it would always be rape with him -- and then to bear children to him, and have no life outside his Manse. She would rather die, and certainly would take her chances at sea.
She knew the risks, of course. Ships believed women had only one purpose on board; one she had no desire to provide. At sea, they were considered bad luck, and more than one woman had 'accidently' fallen overboard and never returned. She had a bolt of cloth wrapped tightly around her shapely breasts to press them flat; it was quite a job, as they were not small. She had cut off her long hair without a tear. All it did was trap her.
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Vice Admiral Thompson welcomed his new cabin boy with professionalism and pleasantries. He was about forty, browned from his years at sea, and with long black hair just going gray at temples. He had a glowing smile.
'I think you'll do very well as my cabin boy, Johnny. You'll sleep in my cabin, and eat from my table, though not with me, of course. I dare say you'll fatten up a tad with my victuals."
"Yessir, I'm looking forward to it Mr. Vice-Admiral Sir.." Johnny saluted.
"Just call me 'Captain' when at sea, son, that's all you need."
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As soon as orders were received, food and water brought aboard, and the many barrels of gunpowder and cannon balls were lowered through the hatches, the Blue Peter was hoisted aloft. This flag signaled to the crew to return to ship. Since they were in London, there were always deserters, and the Press Gangs swept the streets regularly grabbing any poor soul who was foolish enough to be about when the King needed sailors.
Johnny watched in amazement as shopkeepers and farmers were told they would now be sailors, and wouldn't see home again for a year or two, if they survived. Still, there were no small numbers of volunteers as well. The Navy ate regularly and paid decent wages, with a chance of wealth if the ship caught prizes.
Finally, finally, they weighted anchor and made their way through the roads and out to sea. They were still close enough that a small fast sloop could catch them, and sometimes urgent messages or last minute passengers came this way. Having a woman on board didn't seem to be causing bad luck, however, Silky thought to herself, as the weather was fine, the wind blew in the right direction, and no changes came. They were free!
The first night the Captain invited all the officers to dinner. The Cabin Boy served as a personal waiter to the Vice-Admiral, and assisted the Coxswain in clearing the plates and bringing the platters of food. More food than starving Johnny had seen in weeks and weeks. And when the meal was over, and all the men had Toasted the King, sitting down in the Navy tradition, Johnny was allowed to feast on the left-overs. He was personally as glad of his decisions as he had ever been.
Once everything was put away, Mr. Thompson threw a fatherly arm around young Johnny. "I think you'll do well, lad."
And then an extraordinary thing happened. The officer unbuttoned his fly and pulled out an erect penis!
