Page 63 of Forgotten No More

“Are you sure this vessel will do?” Harold eyed the clipper his brother, William, had selected for their first trip to France. The quick jaunt across the channel would turn a fast profit for them. They planned to import anything of high demand at the time: tea, brandy, fabric, and spices. If the demand existed for lady’s bonnets, then they would deal in women’s finery.

“It is sound. Previous owner says it made the trip across the channel over three dozen times with nary a problem.” William stood next to him as they took in their newly acquired asset. “The hull is sound, with no signs of leaks or rot.”

The clipper had seen better days—as in, every day before the current one. Harold wondered how the ship stayed afloat, but they had little chance if they wanted to start their venture without delay. He only hoped it didn’t sink before it returned with the goods. If they needed a better ship, Harold would have no other option but to include another investor in the project—and he and William had both agreed to keep their activities, and the profits, between themselves.

“What is our next step?” William asked.

“I believe it is time we hire a crew and send them out on our maiden voyage.” Harold attempted to suppress his growing excitement. Very shortly his life—and his brother’s—could change for the better. “Have you confirmed our first shipment?”

“I received word only this morning,” William said. “A load of fabrics and spices await our clipper’s arrival in Le Havre. We will load and immediately head for Dover.”

Harold had been leery about scheduling their first cargo shipment before they’d acquired a ship, but William had been confident that all would work in their favor. “Le Havre, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Is that not a risky port?”

“That is why now is the perfect time.”

“How so?”

“With the decrease in trade to and from the port due to the war, typhoid outbreak, and heavy winds, the market is there and others are playing it safe.”

His brother had done his research, and Harold would not fault him for his initiative. It was exactly the call he would have made himself. “All very true, brother. But we must remember, if this fails—if our ship sinks in a storm or our crew catches the fever—our livelihoods are at stake. We will have nothing.”

“I have thought the same, and decided that in order to ensure all goes well, I will journey with our crew on the first trip.”

With the conversation reaching an easy flow, they boarded the ship. Without saying a word, they both moved about the boat, checking weld spots and searching for dry rot; anything that could cause loss of either human life or precious cargo while at sea.

The risk William was willing to wager, more than money or reputation—his very life—garnered an even greater amount of respect. “Do you have experience aboard a ship?”

“I’ve lived near the port for most of my adult life. I have witnessed sails raised and lowered almost as many times as I’ve seen the sun rise.” William patted Harold’s back in reassurance. “How hard can it be?”

Harold had heard many stories of men enduring relentless sea sickness while aboard long voyages—even one that ended with the sailor jumping overboard to stop the unyielding illness. But, William was a grown man capable of making his own choices. It was not Harold’s responsibility to convince his brother that his decision was unwise. They both had much at stake in this venture.

“I do believe you are right,” Harold said instead.

Their inspection completed, they departed the boat. Harold was satisfied that it was sound, at least as far as he knew.

They both stood, side by side, staring at their new vessel for several minutes. Harold was not ready for their meeting to end; it was not often he spent time with family in any capacity other than forced association.

“Have you written father?” Harold asked.

“Whatever for?” William sounded affronted at the very notion. “I escaped him years ago and do not plan to return.”

“What about mother?” That was Harold’s one regret. He and his brothers avoided their father like the plague, yet, he knew his mother was the one who suffered. With no one around to take the brunt of Vicar Jakeston’s scorn and anger, it left her to absorb it all.

William shrugged. “She married the man, I did not.”

Harold wanted to weep for the family he’d likely never have…and the neglected one he did. With no idea how to bridge the distance they’d all put between one another, he knew going home would not solve their larger issues.

“She loves us, in her own way.” Harold had to try. “Even though father clouds her affection.”

“I agree, brother,” William said. “When I return, I will visit her. I am sure she’d find delight in exotic fabrics for a few new dresses…and father will scoff at the extravagance. I think it will be a great homecoming for me.”

Leave it to William to plan a trip that would anger their father. Harold might just tag along, to see his father’s reaction to their new venture and its spoils.

William jumped back on the vessel and it rocked beneath his feet, with a gentle to-and-fro motion. “Things are moving in the right direction for us, Harold. We are men above and beyond what our father ever thought we’d attain, but I have work to do.”