Chapter 1

The soft breeze ruffled his hair as he padded barefoot on the wooden deck. His feet now accustomed to the heat generated by the radiant sun in the tropical climate he found himself in. The small schooner dipped at anchor in the blue waters as he awaited the return of Bartlett, Johnson and the hand who had gone ashore in the skiff to trade goods with the natives in exchange for copra.

"Hope them's back soon; don't like a look o' that shite yonder" said Bundy the first mate, pointing to a dark and menacing sky in the distance which was fast encroaching upon the bright blue within the sunlight above. The captain, Nathanial Gray, who made up the total six man crew, toked on his pipe as he too eyed the approaching storm from the binnacle he sat on.

"Yes, we'd best be away from this reef when that blows in; I baint in any mind to spend the next six month or so on that flea bitten island." The two older men made him shiver a little with their talk, despite the tropical heat and the increasing humidity that the fast approaching squall was creating. He was eased somewhat as he saw the white bow-wave in the distance as the skiff was hastily rowed back, aided by its small sail which was catching the breeze.

Bartlett, Johnson and the Hand, Jonah Travis, hurriedly thrust the sacks of copra from the skiff as they eyed the blackening sky about them. They clambered aboard and the sails of 'Carolina May' were unfurled as Travis walked the skiff round to the stern and made her fast. The brown and white sails billowed and went taught as the increasing breeze was captured by them making the wooden vessel creak as it lurched into almost instantaneous motion. The once calm sea was becoming increasingly choppy as the small schooner picked up a pace and moved further away from the reef to the comparative safety of the open ocean. Frigate birds wheeled eerily above them in front of the storm like huge black bats.

For an hour or so the schooner made good progress, keeping just ahead of the storm which seemed to hold back and be content to blow them in a southerly direction, the twin masts almost bending with the constant wind which inflated the sails; the bow of the graceful boat buffeting through the growing swell. The men slid about in the spray as the sky above them darkened, and the wind and waves grew stronger. To add to their misery, the heavens opened, and thunder and lightning deafened and blinded them as they fought with the rigging and steering. It was about two hours from the time when they had left the atoll when it happened; there was a huge crack and the schooner suddenly slewed sideways; the steering had gone! Bundy was thrown over the side and disappeared into the maelstrom; the ship went broadside against the waves. The others froze as a mountainous wall of water loomed over them. The next thing he knew he was twisting and turning like a rag doll underwater; objects hit his arms, legs and head as he swirled in the salty turbulence, something rammed his chest and he grabbed it instinctively. His heart was fit to burst as he broke the surface once more and spewed the water from his throat and lungs. There was nothing but ocean. The only thing from the 'Carolina May' that remained was the split section of bowsprit boom which was keeping him afloat and a thousand heads of copra bobbing like apples in a barrel. He clung to the wooden remnant for dear life, as he rose and fell in the enormous troughs.

He fought to stay conscious for the next hour or so, and as he rose high on one wave, a flash of lightning illuminated an island not far off. If only he could make it there. It must have been another two hours before the storm passed, and he was drifting in and out of consciousness under the returning hot sun when the sound of breakers crashing alerted his numbed senses. He strained to lift his head as far above the still turbulent sea as he could and saw the white foam about three hundred yards off, and beyond that a small island with tall rocky outcrops, the shoreline festooned with palms, about another five hundred yards beyond the foam. If he could traverse the reef safely he would reach the island; an island he would have viewed with some hostility and trepidation just the day before, but one which looked very inviting to him now.

He hauled his entire body up upon the length of wood which had been his saviour. Some rigging, a portion of sail and attached wooden debris, did just enough to act as an impromptu outrigger; stopping the main body which supported him from rolling. He braced himself as the crashing grew louder; each surge of the tide rushed him ever closer to the possibility of being shredded on the sharp coral reef, or the luxury of the soft beach which lay somewhere beyond it.

The initial wave carrying him to his uncertain destiny dropped his makeshift vessel short and he was thrust forward agonisingly as the mast end shunted the wall of coral. He gripped the wood as best he could, avoiding the temptation to wrap his arms underneath it. Thankfully, the next swell consisted of a much larger volume of water, and he was that much closer; it picked him up and he surged through the crashing foam and spray. As the wave flattened out in its dispersal he felt the vibration as the mast bottomed out occasionally on spikes of coral; then the next wave overtook him and upended him – he was flung forward headlong and curled himself into a ball awaiting the impact against the sharp and menacing reef. He hung suspended in the water and slowly opened his eyes; the foam swirled above him and the crashing rang in his ears, but he just lolled back and forth in near still water – he had cleared the reef.

He surfaced in the swirling foam and spied the mast close by. He swam to it and wrapped his arms gratefully about it and caught his breath. He was close to exhaustion. He seemed to float in circles within the lagoon; the beach was within his grasp now, but frustratingly far off given his present feeble condition; he could not risk abandoning his flotation aid, so he paddled slowly toward his goal. It was another good twenty minutes before he could drop through the water and bounce his feet on the sandy bottom; a feeling which he appreciated immensely – he had not drowned.

As he grew closer to the white sandy beach, shoulder deep in the water, he was gripped by another fear. He was well aware of the numerous tribes that frequented these islands; some of whom practised cannibalism. Even those considered 'friendly' had some strange ways, and it was not known if their humility would prevail when encountering a European in a situation such as he now found himself in. He looked about from where he was, up and down the beach for signs of life before wading ashore with the life-saving debris in tow; he would hide the flotsam in the undergrowth to ensure his arrival was not announced to all and sundry.

Despite his fear, he could not help but smile with relief as his feet ploughed through the hot white sand. He quickly hid himself amongst the palms and marvelled at the imposing peaks which frequented the landscape. The circumstances of his good fortune suddenly dawned upon him and he thought of the recent acquaintances he had enjoyed upon the 'Carolina May'; any sense of euphoria quickly drained from him. He had a solemn moment and remembered those whom he surmised had not been so fortunate. The moment was short lived however; he had survived and he would carry the spirit of his lost associates with him as he strived to reach civilisation, as he knew it, to tell their story. He took a last longing look at the blue sea which now looked so inviting and stepped toward the interior.

His bare feet found it hard going in places as he slipped on exposed tree roots and even the dried vegetation, which was abundant, tortured him. Even so, he ventured on and after several hours he found himself half-way up one of those peaks and this vantage point allowed him a view to the other side of this fertile island. He could see that that the beach on the other side was grey and volcanic; the waves swept onto the blackish sands unhindered, there was no reef apparent there. Having got to this position he wondered why he had gone to the trouble; he felt lost and doomed to eventual starvation. He was sure there were no inhabitants of this island, as appealingly fertile as it seemed.

He started back on the track he thought he had previously traversed; after a while he became disorientated – he did not recognise where he was though it was evident that where he trod others had been before. He was quickly descending into a state of mild delirium as he padded down a trail which he was patently sure his feet had not witnessed before. He suddenly viewed an idyllic vision; he espied a succulent waterfall descending gracefully into a huge rocky pool. Within it frolicked several naked females, each one lithe and graceful and with a soft olive complexion. He staggered forward in a state of exhaustion, he had lost all command of sensibility and was drawn toward the vision before him; he tripped and the last thing he remembered was the sight of the pool of water rushing toward him as he fell headlong toward it.

He awoke to find himself suspended and trussed beneath a pole, carried by four of the females he had witnessed in what he had believed to have been a dream brought on by exhaustion. The bindings were real enough; he could not move, though the sweet legs and buttocks he viewed might well be the figment of his imagination; they were delectable. He was lain down on occasion as the women rested their arms and legs; though very athletic in appearance they were very feminine indeed; not like the fat and flabby whores he had paid money to on returning to Portsmouth and London. Though bound and a little terrified of what their menfolk would have in store for him he could not control the blood pressure to his nether regions as they squatted next to him, their pretty faces with deep brown eyes smiling at him whilst displaying beautifully proportioned glossy tender thighs and pert breasts; nipples erect with excitement. He struggled in vain against the bindings as one of them undid his breeches and played with his manhood making him hopelessly erect. The women giggled then the four picked him up again, leaving his cock dangling on display as they took him on to his uncertain fate.