Sole Survivor
The hands aboard the brigantine Martha Ann were all men of the sea. Although they hailed from coastal towns such as Gloucester, Salem, Marblehead, New Bedford and Nantucket, all these men called the Atlantic their home. Few of them could read or write, yet all were schooled in the ways of the sea.
The Martha Ann left Boston harbor under the command of Captain Caledon Southwell in early November and headed south. Those crew members with close ties to the land would naturally miss their families, but most in the ship's company were glad to leave New England now that winter was approaching. It was to be months before the Martha Ann returned to Massachusetts. If the winds and the weather favored them, they would most likely be back in the early spring.
The ship's first port of call was Charleston. Since Captain Southwell had good friends in the South Carolina seaport, he left the ship in charge of First Mate Ezra Babbitt and went ashore to pay them a social visit. It was a short walk to the grand home on the Battery where the captain's friends lived. A housekeeper opened the door when he knocked, and he was shown into the drawing room where the host and hostess greeted him warmly. After ascertaining that Caledon's wife and children were well, the hostess excused herself and headed toward the kitchen to oversee the dinner preparations, leaving the men to discuss politics and business.
The host, a former New England sea captain himself, made a fortune in the slave trade and had since given up the sea to live in comfort and luxury on the land, although he still kept abreast of the maritime news.
"It was too bad about the Hester," the host commented.
"The Hester? Why? What happened to her?" Southwell asked.
"Didn't you hear? She's been reported missing. She was due back in port more than six months ago, but there's been no sign of her."
"The Hester is a fine ship with a good captain and crew. She might have been damaged in a storm and put into a foreign port for repairs."
"I pray you're right. I knew many a good man who sailed on the Hester."
* * *
After leaving Charleston, the Martha Ann headed southeast. The first stage of their journey was uneventful, and the crew went about their duties without complaint. When they were not busy mending the sails or swabbing the decks, they passed the time singing songs or telling stories, for such was the entertainment available to them. The first mate would, on occasion, join the crew and sing a tender ballad, which with his Irish tenor voice brought a tear to many a man's eye.
Captain Southwell, however, remained aloof, preferring to stay in his cabin and read his Bible when not on the bridge. He had been raised in a strict home by devoutly religious parents, so all his life he followed the straight and narrow path, avoiding sin and temptation as one would avoid contact with a leper. There is an old saying that a branch that refuses to bend will often break in a strong wind. This adage would prove true in the captain's case.
The trouble began one morning when a dark cloud appeared on the eastern horizon. First Mate Babbitt ordered the crew to take precautions in case a severe storm should arise. The men acted accordingly, but neither the mate nor the captain could have foreseen the intensity or speed with which the storm would hit. The previously calm seas suddenly erupted with the force of an earthquake. Lightning rent the sky, and rain poured down mercilessly. Despite all the measures the crew had taken, the ship took a beating. When the Martha Ann finally passed through the storm and into more peaceful waters, Captain Southwell ordered an assessment of the damage.
"We were lucky, sir," Ezra later informed his senior officer. "There was only minimal damage to the sails, and the mast is still intact."
"Good. Have the men begin repairs immediately."
"There is one problem, though. The storm has blown us off course. I've ordered the navigator to take corrective action, but we'll be traveling through unfamiliar waters."
"Then reduce speed. Our main concern should be the safety of the ship and crew."
"Aye aye, Captain."
Within the hour, from his elevated position in the crow's nest, the lookout saw a dot appear on the horizon and reached for his spyglass.
"Land ho!" he shouted.
"It's probably nothing but a small, uninhabited island," the navigator declared.
Safety demanded the Martha Ann give the island wide berth since it might be a haven for pirates. However, men are curious by nature; and although sailors are known to be notoriously superstitious, they are also men. Caledon Southwell decided it would not be necessary to change their present course just to avoid the island, unless there was a sign of certain danger.
"Captain," the lookout cried. "I see a ship."
"Pirates?"
"It looks like a wreck, sir."
"It could be a trap," Ezra warned. "Seems like the sort of thing pirates might due to lure an unsuspecting ship into their grasp."
The men watched anxiously as the captain weighed the risk and made his decision.
"If it is a wreck, there might be survivors," he concluded. "And if there are, we are bound by conscience to rescue them."
As the Martha Ann closed in on the wreck, the captain recognized the damaged ship.
"It's the Hester," he announced. "I learned in Charleston that she was missing."
The Martha Ann dropped anchor, and Southwell ordered the first mate to take a contingent of men and sail to the Hester in a dinghy.
"It looks like she crashed into those rocks," the first mate observed as the dinghy drew near the wreckage. "She might have been thrown off course as we were. Lost in unfamiliar waters, the Hester might have gotten caught in a fog and not seen the danger ahead until it was too late."
A quick search of the doomed ship confirmed the first mate's fears. There were no survivors aboard, just rotting corpses.
"It doesn't make any sense, sir," one of his fellow would-be rescuers claimed. "What killed these men? There's plenty of food and fresh water, and the ship is still in fairly good shape despite the damage to the hull."
The pallor of Ezra Babbitt's complexion indicated his sudden dread.
"I think these men were already dead when the ship crashed on the rocks."
The members of the rescue party looked at each other with uncertainty.
"Don't touch anything!" the first mate ordered, fearful that a deadly disease had wiped out the crew.
Praying his men had not already been infected, he ordered the sailors back to the dinghy. As they were about to leave the island, however, they discovered the sole survivor of the Hester.
Aboard the Martha Ann, Captain Southwell and his men stared in disbelieve at the woman sitting next to the first mate in the dinghy. They naturally expected any survivors to be seamen since the Hester had been a merchant vessel, not a passenger ship.
"She's beautiful!" the navigator exclaimed as a strange young woman was brought aboard the Martha Ann.
The captain turned to see the look on the man's face. It revealed the same desire he saw on the faces of the other members of the crew. Like most men who made their living on the sea, Captain Southwell believed that females aboard a ship meant trouble.
"Escort the young lady to your cabin," he instructed First Mate Babbitt. "You can sleep with the crew until we put into port and turn our passenger over to the proper authorities."
"Aye aye, sir."
After the woman had a chance to eat and bathe, the captain visited her in the first mate's cabin. He was anxious to learn the circumstances surrounding the Hester's tragic fate.
"What made the ship crash into the rocks?" he asked. "Was there a storm? Dense fog?"
The woman did not reply. Her blue eyes looked uncomprehendingly into the captain's face.
"Do you speak English?" he asked.
Again, there was no response.
"Parlez-vous français? Habla español? Sprechen Sie Deutsches?"
The survivor's face showed no reaction to his questions. Either she was deaf or she was an imbecile. The captain sighed with resignation and exhaustion. For now, the fate of the Hester would have to remain a mystery.
Following the rescue, the men went about their duties, but there was tension in the air. They were all aware that a beautiful woman was aboard and remained alert for any sign of her. The captain decided he would keep a careful eye on the unexpected—and in his opinion, unwanted—passenger. Given her state of mind, she might not be able to fend off an attack on her own. And while Caledon believed his men were basically good, he knew from experience that good men sometimes did bad things. To avoid any potential problems, therefore, every morning he escorted the young woman out onto the deck, so she could get exercise, fresh air and sunshine.
"Look, it's Annabelle," one sailor declared as he nudged his companion with his elbow.
"How do you know her name is Annabelle?"
"I don't. But I have to call her something. I think she looks like an Annabelle."
When the woman passed by the sailor, the young seaman smiled at her, and she smiled back. The captain noticed the exchange and ordered the man to go below deck. He told himself that his only motive was to nip a potentially explosive situation in the bud. He never suspected that what he felt was actually jealousy.
Then one day when she was brought out into the fresh air and sunshine, Annabelle walked to the bow of the ship and stood at the railing, letting the wind blow through her long, unbound hair. She tilted her head up and closed her eyes. A look of peace and happiness transformed her lovely face. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and began to sing. It was not a song in the true sense of the word, for there were no discernible lyrics. It was an enchanting sound, a hypnotic melody that mesmerized both the captain and the crew.
* * *
The days passed. The deckhands still performed their duties, but their minds were not on their work. They went through the motions mechanically, like the fabled zombies of Haiti. Even Captain Southwell seemed bewitched by the enchanting beauty of the survivor of the Hester. Only the first mate kept his head. For some unknown reason, he alone could resist the young woman's charms.
One morning Ezra woke early and went on deck as the sun rose. It would be several hours before the captain brought the young woman out for her daily constitutional, yet the men worked half-heartedly, their attention on Annabelle's cabin door.
"Look alive!" the first mate shouted. "What's wrong with the lot of you?"
Reluctantly, the men turned away, grumbling with discontent. Although Babbitt had been putting it off for several days, he decided it was time to speak to his superior officer.
"Come in," the captain called when Ezra knocked on his cabin door. "What is it?"
"Sir, I've noticed that the crew has not been performing up to its usual level of efficiency."
Southwell eyed his second in command with suspicion.
"What are you suggesting?"
"That the young woman is proving to be a great distraction and that she ...."
"You'll not say another word against her, do you hear?" the captain shouted, cutting the first mate to the quick. "If the men are slacking off, then it is up to you to maintain discipline."
"Aye aye, sir," the first mate replied, chastened by the captain's harsh tone.
When he left the captain's cabin, Ezra noticed the men glaring at him menacingly. It was not right that he had become condemned for doing his duty and for trying to see to the safety of the ship and crew. As he passed the door to his own cabin, the first mate heard Annabelle's peculiar song, and he cursed the day she was ever brought on board.
The lookout still manned his post in the crow's nest although he spent more time searching the deck for a glimpse of Annabelle than looking out to sea.
"Isn't there any sign of land yet?" the Babbitt called up to him. "We should have reached Barbados two days ago."
The lookout picked up his spyglass and scanned the horizon.
"Land ho," he cried.
"At last," the Ezra sighed. "Now we can put the young woman ashore and get on with our voyage."
It was not long until he recognized the outline of the island.
"That's not Barbados," he contended, grabbing his own spyglass.
After examining the topography of the island, he shouted for the navigator.
"Look!" Ezra cried as he thrust the spyglass at the other man. "Tell me that's not the island where the Hester was wrecked."
When the navigator peered through the eyepiece, his hand began to tremble.
"It can't be the same island," he said with no conviction. "We've been sailing in the opposite direction."
"Are you sure?" the first mate pressed. "Then why haven't we reached Barbados yet?"
The navigator was at a loss for words. He was spared having to manufacture an explanation by the arrival of the captain on deck.
"What is all the commotion about?" the senior officer demanded to know.
"It appears we've been going around in circles," the first mate informed him. "That's the same island where we picked up the survivor from the Hester."
Southwell angrily snatched the spyglass from the navigator.
"It can't be," he insisted. "There's no wreck on the rocks."
"I don't know what became of the Hester," the first mate replied, "but that's the same island."
Suddenly, the door to the first mate's cabin opened, and the lovely Annabelle emerged. All eyes turned toward her. The young woman's blond hair hung down past her shoulders and shimmered like strands of gold, and her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires. She did not walk so much as glide across the deck to the bow. Then she turned, faced the men and began to sing.
The captain and crew immediately fell into a trance. The first mate shook several of the deckhands, trying to break Annabelle's spell and revive the men. When they failed to respond, he advanced toward the young woman.
"Stop it! Be quiet! Stop making that noise."
Annabelle smiled, raised her hands above her head and dove into the water.
"What have you done, you damned fool?" Caledon screamed at his mate when he came out of his trance only to see Annabelle disappear beneath the surface.
The crew was even angrier at the young officer. They rushed forward and struck him with their fists or with whatever weapon they could get their hands on. Having been subjected to a brutal assault, Ezra Babbitt collapsed in a heap, never to rise again.
Meanwhile, Annabelle reached land. She climbed on the rocks, looked back at the Martha Ann and raised her voice in song.
With the first mate dead, the members of the crew turned their lust for blood on each other. Too late, the captain realized the folly of bringing Annabelle aboard the ship. She had caused the disharmony between the men with her wanton female wiles.
"You whore of Satan!" he shouted as he ran toward the ship's wheel. "You'll burn in hell for your sins."
As the members of the crew massacred one another, the captain, driven to the brink of insanity by his unfulfilled lust for Annabelle, steered the Martha Ann directly into the rocks at the same point where the Hester had crashed.
* * *
Several months later, Captain Egon Quillan of the Providence looked through his spyglass at the small island that lay ahead.
"It looks like a wreck," he told his first mate.
"It must be the Martha Ann out of Boston," the junior officer replied. "She was reported lost."
"Head toward the island," the captain ordered. "And prepare the dinghy. You'll take five men and form a search party to look for survivors."
On the island, the beautiful blond siren began to sing softly as she waited for her unsuspecting victims to come ashore.
Salem's singing has been known to cause more than one cat-astrophe!
