Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

A kind sailor tipped an imaginary cap. “Sorry, miss, but this here are the West India docks. Ships headed to India. You must be wanting the East India docks, where the East Indiamen sail to China.”

“Yes, of course,” I answered stupidly, grateful that the pleasant worker pointed out the direction where we should be. Normally, the distance-a good half mile, I estimated-might have necessitated that we find another means of conveyance. Our prospects did not look good, so-grateful that we had brought only one bag each- Flora and I hefted our baggage and walked. By the time we had passed between the proper dock walls, Flora was panting with exertion. Sailors and dockhands and even the occasional well-dressed man of commerce jostled us without thought.

I pulled Flora to the side of a vendor hawking food to the workers. She clutched her chest, and I worried that her heart was amiss. I searched her face. “Are you all right?”

“I just… need to… catch my breath.”

“Poor Flora.” I smiled. “I forget that you are unaccustomed to such exertion.”

She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes momentarily. “I will be to rights in a moment,” she said.

I stood on tiptoes and craned my neck, anxious, I must admit, to proceed with our mission. Suppose we missed Mr. Snowe? I was certain that I could convince him of my earnestness-as well as my suitability-for mission work in the Far East.

Flora must have sensed my anxiety, for she patted my arm, smiling wanly. “If you want to go look for the proper ship, I will wait right here. You can come back for me. Perhaps you will even get a chance to talk to Mr. Snowe, and this foolishness will soon be over.”

“Thank you, Flora,” I said, relieved that she had given me permission to leave her. It was uncharacteristic of her, to say the least. Yet no one seemed to frequent this area, so I felt certain that she would be safe long enough for me to investigate the various ships and find Snowe. I would be safe as well, for I did not intend to waste time or risk my welfare by asking questions of anyone other than a ship’s officer. “May I leave my bag in your care so that it will not impede my progress?”

“Of course,” she said. “I will keep them both safe right here and not twitch a whisker until you have returned.”

“Will you be all right?”

Flora straightened. “I had three older brothers, Miss Isabella Goodrich, who taught me to care for myself. Now off with you!”

I gave her a final grateful smile, then headed toward the ships. Oh, what glorious works of man! Each one taller and larger than the rest. My head grew dizzy trying to look up at the top mast. Men scurried to and fro like ants on a hill, loading cargo. I knew that the East Indiamen often took on passengers such as Snowe and his group, so I was not surprised to see women, as well as men who were obviously not sailors.

More ships than I could count weighed anchor at the docks. I would never find Snowe this way. Scanning the crowds for someone who seemed trustworthy, I finally spied someone in uniform. A captain, perhaps? I knew nothing about naval dress or insignia.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said, feeling uneasy about speaking to a man without formal introduction. “I’m looking for a ship sailing to China.”

He smiled. “You have come to the right location, but as you can see there are many ships.”

I tried to keep the shock from my expression. Were all these ships embarking at the same time? “I am looking for an East Indiaman that is leaving today and-”

“Most likely you want Dignity, ma’am.”

Dignity? I knew it was not propitious to approach a stranger, but he was an officer. I hoped. “I… I beg your pardon?”

He pointed down the lane of ships. “The HMS Dignity. See the East Indiaman with the three masts in between the smaller vessels? She is the only ship sailing for China today that I am aware of.”

Good heavens. “Thank you,” I said. “You are most kind.”

“Not at all, miss.” He touched his cap then turned away. I looked back at where I had left Flora, wavering. Should I return for her or press on? Perhaps it would be best to make certain that this Dignity was, indeed, Snowe’s ship.

I pressed on.

The crowds grew thicker as I made my way down the dock. I heard language that made my ears pinken, but I held my head high and lifted my skirts just enough to keep them from being splashed by the standing water. Thankfully my adorable pink slippers were stowed safely in the bag with Flora.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I ran into Phineas Snowe without having to locate the ship and go aboard? I scanned the crowd for him, or at least another fellow missionary, but saw no one who looked likely.

Never did I imagine that ships could convey such grandeur and importance. Why, they were veritable countries unto themselves, it seemed, with sailors climbing the ropes to the dizzying height of the tallest masts, polishing and mopping the decks and their features, touching up the prows of the ships with a bit of fresh paint.

Why on earth were they dragging lowing cattle aboard? Poor Bossy. I should not like to be towed in such manner either, and I would put up just as much of a fuss were I an unwilling passenger!

I reached the gangplank and encountered someone who I felt certain was an officer, though perhaps a trifle young. He was decidedly not a captain! He gave commands in a voice that was still breaking with the change of youth, and I could see his resolve to act as a man in this role. “Excuse me, sir,” I ventured, hoping that the mature title would flatter him into helping me.

“Yes, what is it?” he barked, then, when he saw me, had the good grace to flush. “I beg your pardon, miss, but I am in a bit of a hurry. We are about to cast off.”

“Indeed?” I tried to quell the rising panic. Where was Phineas Snowe? “I am sorry to detain you, then, but I am looking for a… friend. I was supposed to meet him at the ship. Can you help me… Captain?” I blinked my eyes a little in what I hoped was a small bit of flirtation and flattery.

He reddened again, particularly when a nearby sailor stifled a hearty guffaw into a cough. “Miss, I regret for your sake that I am most certainly not the captain. Midshipman Bates at your service. Regarding your dilemma, however, I can tell you that most passengers do not board until Graves-end,” he said. “It saves them some time aboard ship, though with our long voyage, I can’t see that twenty miles makes much difference.” He tipped his hat again. “Begging your pardon again. Most likely your friend will be boarding there, or even at Deal, where we’ll await a good wind.”

“I see,” I said. “Thank you so much. I am quite sorry about the mistaken identity.”

He tipped his hat again, then, obviously suffering from civility’s restraint on my account, he snapped out another order to a sailor hefting a huge burlap bag.

Gravesend! How would Flora and I get there? We were rapidly running short of coinage. Why hadn’t I foreseen the need for a great deal of money? Flora and I would have to pool our intelligence and come up with a way to-

“That’s the last of the stock, sir,” a sailor said, saluting the midshipman.

“Very well, then, thank you, Mr. Green. I shall inform the captain that we are ready to shove off.”

Shove off? I had best remove myself from the ship before-

Oh, Providence, you are the answer to my bumble-bath! I did not stop to think of Flora’s reaction, for my only thought was in getting to Gravesend as easily as possible. The best way to find Phineas Snowe would be to meet him aboard ship, of course! When I did think of Flora a few fleeting moments later, I realized that her worry would only be for a short period. If necessary, I could retrace my steps from Gravesend to London (by carriage this time, naturally) and rejoin her and Uncle Toby.