Free Centuries of June by Keith Donohue

Crab, tho he be anything but crabby, made safe. Jane was among the last, arms thrown around the mastiff’s neck as they were rowed the half-mile, but even with all her might, she could not stop the beast from leaping into the surf, desperate at last for land and deliverance from their deathly ordeal.
    “A dog,” the old man interrupted her. “A dog is the very man for displays of vertiginous exuberance. You can read their nature in their wagging tails.”
    Jane scowled at him, crossed her arms.
    “I have often wondered,” he said, “how much better off we humans would be with a tail at the end. An appendage that would betray ourthoughts and feelings.” Dolly jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, and he blushed. “But do go on, my dear, with your tale.”
    T o say that they were grateful to be on terra firma diminishes the wonder found on those islands, which the navigators and more experienced seamen knew at once to be the Bermudas, which some call Brendan’s Isle after the Irishman who found it a thousand years ago, and what some call the Isle of Devils, so named for the rumours of monsters that linger there. Be that as it may, the company gave praise and thanksgiving to the Lord, and the Reverend Bucke led the evensong, reading from the Book of Common Prayer , while in the distance, beyond the breaking waves, the Sea Venture bucked, a sentinel in the ocean and symbol of all that had been abandoned, home and hope, a terrible monument to their ordeal and survival. Jane watched till the last light and the rising of the moon and stars, wondering what had become of the rest of the fleet bound for Jamestown, whether the other ships were lost, too, or lay at the bottom of the sea, or had somehow endured the tempest and rested safely in the promised land. Master Ravens found her alone on the strand and sat beside her in the moonlight.
    “We have been blown off course some one hundred forty leagues,” he said, “but by Jove, we have endured all, and all shall be vouchsafed. You must have faith.” There was a note of disbelief to his words, a coloring that showed he was not above false promises. At the sound of his voice, she buried her face in her hands and wept. Ravens laid a fatherly hand upon her shoulder. “Come, boy, and sleep by my side. We’ll have work to do in the morrow. For if we are to quit this place, we must build ourselves a boat.”
    Having little prospect of a passing vessel, the crew set about salvaging what they could from the ruined ship, sending men in the longboat to pick clean the ribs of wood and sail, iron and goods, even thebell itself, in order to fashion from misfortune a smaller portion of luck. Carpentry on the new boat began in mid-August, just after the skeleton of the Sea Venture broke into bones and scattered or sank. The men had decided to transform the skiff into a vessel capable of traversing the week’s voyage over open waters to Virginia, and out of the remains of the old hatch, a deck began to take shape under the watchful eye of Mr. Frobisher, the ship’s carpenter, and those not thus engaged endeavoured to make a small village for their needs, for tho the days were fine if hot, there is no place like a house for a home, no matter the circumstance.
    The island was a paradise in every other regard, and for their feast and respite, fresh water and food were soon found. Fish abounded in the waters off the shore, and could be had by means of gigging a sharp stick, or later, a net was sewn from scraps of rigging, and when dipped into the water, it would return a bounty of mullet and rockfish and pilchard. Lobsters could be had by hand, tho quick hands were needed, so as not to be bit by their claws. In time, sea turkles arrived to lay their eggs upon the sand, and they could be plucked and eaten raw, and the turkles themselves, when stewed, produced a toothsome meat neither fish nor fowl tho never foule, and one large creature could feed them all for three meals in turn. Wild