Slave Of Destiny (13 page)

Michael and Sally
lay together for nearly two hours, before she fell asleep. He left her and
approached their new captain, who trying to use a device which Michael hadn’t
seen before.

“What’s that?” he
whispered to George.

Michael thought he
spoke too low for George to hear, being fearful of waking Sally, but he
responded quietly.

“It’s a sextant and
it’s used for navigating by the stars” he said.

Michael had heard the
old saying, “to take a star,” not knowing how or what was used to take a star.
George was in the act of raising the sextant to his eye, when the Dayang
suddenly cried, “Captain, listen
!
”

“What do you hear
?
”
he asked.

“Just listen!” he
answered, in a breathless voice.

They strained their
ears, but nothing was audible to Michael but silence. “Don't you hear it,
Captain?” he cried, in a kind of agony, pointing with his finger. “Don't you
hear something, lad?”

There was another
interval of silence, and Sally answered, “I hear a kind of throbbing.”

Michael thought she
was asleep, so it came as a surprise when she answered Dayang’s question.

“It is so!” George
exclaimed. “I hear it now! It is the engines of a steamer.”

“A steamer? Yeah!
That’s what the sound is” Dayang admitted.

They strained their
ears again. That throbbing sound, as Sally had accurately described it, closely
resembling the rhythmical running of a locomotive-engine Michael had heard in
Australia. Because it was a silent night, the sound was now distinctly audible,
but it was impossible to tell how far away the vessel might be. Once more they
inclined their ears, holding their breath as they listened.

“There she is!”
cried Dayang

Everyone had
gathered around in anticipation of being rescued at last. The group saw not
only the shadow of a vessel down in the south-east, but the smoke and a red
glow coming from her funnel was clearly evident against the backdrop of the
stars. Michael ran for the hurricane lamp and picked it up, intending to swing
it around.

“Quickly, build up
that fire. They may be able to see that someone is on this island” shouted
George, issuing the order.

Michael waved the
hurricane lamp furiously, trying to attract their attention, but there was no
need to wave it any longer. Soon the shadow grew into a defined shape and the
craft drew nearer and nearer and the throbbing of the engines louder and
louder. It was now a long, black hull with its funnel pouring a dense volume of
smoke, spotted with fire-sparks. The tall masts and rigging was evident and
Michael could now hear the water spouting out of its side and the blowing off
of the safety-valve
.

“It’s probably a
Dutch naval vessel” George suggested.

The sound of the
motor ceased and they could hear the rattle of the anchor chain being lowered.
That was followed by a loud splash then two more; probably longboats being
lowered into the water.

Soon a voice called
out as several longboats approached, “Ahoy.”

“Ahoy” George
replied.

“What are you doing
here?” the voice asked.

“We’ve been
shipwrecked and we’re trying to get to Batavia” George retorted.

The voice sung out
again: “How many are there of you?”

George answered:
“Seven men and two ladies.”

The naval men with
rifles swarmed out of the three longboats, completely surrounding them. The
shipwrecked group was overpowered, with the Dutch taking possession of their
boats and immediately seizing on all their property. They were then taken back
to their ship.

Michael looked up
the very high side of the steamer, into a crowd of men assembled round the
gangway, their faces barely visible.

The voice that had
first addressed us said: “Are you strong enough to get up the ladder? If not,
we'll sling you onboard.”

George answered
that if a couple of hands would come down into the boat so as to help the two
ladies and him, the other men would manage to get on board without assistance.
A short gangway-ladder was lowered, and two men ascended the ladder and stepped
into the ship. Two of the Dutch crew then descended to assist us.

“Take that lady first”
Michael said, pointing to Sally.

Michael felt
horribly sick not knowing what was going to happen to them, and he had to exert
all his power to keep his voice steady. They stood Sally up and looped the
sling under her arms before giving the signal to haul her up. Michael climbed
the ladder while she was being hauled up; wanting to take her in his arms and
comfort her. Connie was then hauled aboard, followed by George and soon the
forlorn group was standing on the deck of the Dutch ship. The Dutch galliot is
a somewhat peculiar craft to the eye of an Australian; heavy and
clumsy-looking, but a good sea-boat. The galliot looks much the same, whether
you regard her from stem or from stern, both being almost equally rounded. She
has scarce any keel and her deck is flat, the hull broad and deep and a very
wide rudder. Hung on each side is a large lee-board, to keep her from making
too much leeway. Her bulwarks are lofty, and a large cabin is placed aft, where
the captain and his family live; the perfect vessel for the shallow waters of
the Thousand Islands.

“The women need
medical attention, is there a doctor on board?” George asked.

“There’s a nurse
onboard and she’ll look after them. I have to ask you all to come below decks”
he said forcefully.

“Where are you
taking us?” he asked when he noticed our three craft were set on fire and
released onto the calm water.

“You will be placed
in quarantine on Onrust Island. You must come below now” he stressed.

“It is true that
fever and dysentery are rife on Onrust Island?” Michael asked George, beginning
to stress out.

“Skin diseases
abound in most jails and the air is saturated with a poison that bites into
every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants every disease known to man” he
admitted.

“Jail?” he asked
hesitantly.

“Being in
quarantine is worse than being in jail, but we will eventually be released and
free to go to Batavia” he said sadly. “I hope we can last the three months
there.”

* * *

The next morning
the whole group was summoned on deck as the anchor lowered into the shallow
waters around an island. As they stood there on the deck Michael noticed this Galliot
was rigged with square sails on her mainmast, a fore and aft main-sail, a gaff
mizzen and mizzen gaff top-sails, and a high bowsprit. Her sails were tanned;
but he wasn’t sure if he approved or admired its shape.
Garjarja and Ameya had been nervous all night, because they too had
heard wild tales about Onrust Island.

“What
are you – pirates or traders?” the captain asked George.

“We
are traders, sir” he said firmly. “We were on our way to fill our vessel with
rubber, but we were caught in a violent storm. Several of the crew was lost,
along with our captain.”

“And
who was your captain?” he asked curiously.

 “
Francis James Scott” Connie piped up, before someone
mentioned his pirate name.

“And who are you?” he asked.

“Constance Kane, sir. We were lovers” she admitted.

“Well Constance Kane, I’ve never heard of a trader called
Francis James Scott” he said scoffing at the name.

“He’s an Englishman and he had only just begun to trade. He
didn’t know the waters around here and that’s why we became shipwrecked” she
mentioned tartly.

Garjarja
and Ameya were becoming more and more nervous as they listened to the
conversation, but not really understanding it. They could see the mainland of
Java was very close; probably only about one or two miles away.

“Ngayon”
Ameya shouted.

The
two men ran and dove into the water and began swimming.

“Silly
fools, the water around here is full of sharks. Instead of burying the bodies
on Cemetery Island, we feed them to the sharks. Quite a deterrent, don’t you
think?” he laughed.

The men on the deck
watched with horror when one man declared he saw the fin of a shark. A shark is
at all times an object of horror to a sailor and those who have seen the
destructive jaws of this voracious fish can testify to their immense and almost
incredible power. The rest of the rescued group thought they might actually
make it to safety when the shark just began to circle the swimming men. A
second shark joined in the behavioral circling and, before long, they could see
there were fifteen fins surrounding them. At first the sharks did not seem
inclined to seize their prey, but swam in close to the men, playing in the
water and rubbing against their, now still, victims. A loud shriek from one of
the men announced his sudden pain; a shark had seized him by the foot and
severed it entirely from the leg. Once they tasted blood it wasn’t long before
the dreaded attack took place. Another and another shriek proclaimed a loss of
limbs before the two men were dragged under, never to be seen again.

“Please help them”
Connie gasped.

“They’re beyond
help. Does anyone else want to try to escape?” he gaffed. “Whatever you have
heard, you won’t be placed with the medical quarantine patients. You will be
fed and looked after. Once we have assessed all of you, we will send you on to
Batavia to work in the plantations. Now you must get in the longboats and go
ashore. By the way, I’m Johann Schlingher, the captain of this fine vessel.”

The women had been
looked after as well as expected, while George had his broken arm set properly.
Once everyone was accommodated in two longboats the fit men helped to row over
to the jetty. From what Michael remembered from history lessons, Java and the
rest of Indonesia changed from the Cultivation System to the Liberal System
around the 1870’s. Java fared better than the rest of Indonesia, but tens of
thousands of Javanese still perished in the 1880’s. The main reason the system
partly failed was the lack of farming land suitable for rice production. Still,
the new system literally dragged Java out of the dark ages of local trade and
built a world-class economy.

Six weeks later

The shipwrecked
sailors were finally on their way to old Batavia, which had evolved into the
capital of the Dutch colony and earned its name ‘
Queen of the east’
.
 Michael had never
heard of that name, but he had worked it out it could have been the name the
Dutch gave the city before it was renamed Jakarta Kota. There were seven of
them left, but they unsure if all of them had been designated work on the same
plantation. Michael’s future was undecided, but at least he was going to be
with Sally, once again, who was going to work at the plantation with him.
Connie was going to The Willem 3
^rd
School, which opened up in 1860
and they required English speaking women to teach the children. Michael remembered
that up to the 1870s, around 80% of the total exports from the Dutch East
Indies went to the Netherlands.
This was the direct result of the Cultivation System where the Dutch government
sought to expand Javanese export production and send it exclusively towards the
Netherlands. Production and export in the Batavia colony was under strict
government control. When the Cultivation system ended, the developing
plantation industry shifted more and more to the private enterprise. The tariff
liberalization and the export share to the Netherlands dropped remarkably,
while internal Asian exports rose. As an entry-port for free trade, Singapore
shipped most of the Dutch East Indies exports landing on its dock and then onto
other destinations, mainly to the
USA.

Everyone had heard
the whispers around them while they were in quarantine that there was a Malaria
epidemic in Batavia. Michael had managed to concoct a mixture of eucalyptus oil
and lemon grass to keep these tiny blood-suckers at bay and he had covered his
skin with it, much at the disgust of his colleagues. No matter how much he
tried, no one except Sally would believe him when he explained how the
essential oils worked and she had even applied some the mixture to her bare
skin. New citizens were encouraged to move far south of the port, so that’s
where they were going. Coffee plants and sugar cane were the two crops forced
on the plantation owners during the cultivation era, but the smaller
plantations were being joined together as a co-operative under private
ownership. More crops were planted after the Agrarian Law issued in 1870 and
the plantation company could expand its business in the State-owned land with a
very long term attached.

The province of
Bandang was well inland and coffee was grown in the rich volcanic soils. They
were going to be paid in Dutch East Indies Guilders, but Michael doubted the
money they earned would amount to a fortune; he believed the going rate was
about seven guilders per week. The steamer they were on was more like a barge
and, after they entered the Ciliung River, the captain docked at a loading
jetty.

“Dirk Janssen,
Lieven Mesman, Erik Bakker, Ignass Rynsburger will be escorting six people to
Penglengan. Martine de Jong and Klasina Meijer will escort the Miss Constance
to the school. There are two wagons ready to depart for Penglengan, so you all
must go now” he said as clearly as he could. “And YOU TWO need to take a bath!”

“The oil on our
skin is to keep the biting insects away. We smell so bad they stay away from us”
Michael joked.

“Yea, I know what
you mean” added Dayang, wrinkling his nose and stepping away from them.

The two smelly
bodies were actually happy to be delegated together on the back of the tray of
the first wagon, so they said their sad goodbyes to Connie and jumped aboard.
The six buffalo drawing the wagons were slow, but Michael couldn’t care less
because he was with his girlfriend. Their first stop for the night was going to
be Cisarua, roughly forty miles as the crow flies.

“Are there any
mosquitoes biting you two?” Dirk Janssen sneered as he slapped another black
devil.

“No, because they
would rather seek fresh blood and stay away from stinky bodies” Michael
laughed, hoping they wouldn’t force him to give up his bottle of repellant.

As they ventured
further away from the coast the swarms of mosquitoes dispersed and the guard’s
moods lightened. Java was as close to perfect as Michael could imagine. All of
them had survived a severe bout of dysentery, but he had suffered the worst. At
times he was too weak to walk, so Michael had to crawl to and from the
latrines. The men around him had been clearly attracted to the Malay women and
he had seen them creeping away to be with them. Michael had seen very little of
Sally during the past month, but she appeared to be accepting her new role of
nursemaid.

All of them had
been briefed on what was expected when they reached their destination. The
total area of the three plantations they were heading for was 300 acres. They
didn’t only produce coffee, but also cloves and various woods, while employing
100 workers. Farming coffee is more labor-intensive than other types of major
food crops. Coffee beans must be picked, processed, dried and roasted on the coffee
plantation, before being sent on to Batavia. This is one of the reasons that
coffee plantations were a historical venue for forced labor and slavery. Even
though this group was ‘forced paid labor’, technically everyone had a choice of
keep working in the field or fend for themselves after their three months’ probation.
Michael knew all the other men wanted to return to Avilla as soon as they
could, but he didn’t have any ties with the place.

* * *

They arrived in
Cisarua as the sun was setting. They were allowed to bathe; or more
importantly, ordered to bathe to get rid of the terrible smell on their skin.
The Malay women had prepared their food, so they ate with relish when they were
clean. The group was provided a house with three bedrooms to sleep in for their
brief stop and, with luck, he and Sally shared one of them.

Sally stood only a
few feet away now and Michael could smell her fresh womanly scents.

“Michael, I want us
to forget what has happened. The most important thing now is that we have each
other” she whispered.

“Do you really mean
that?” he asked quietly, his mind in a state of confusion.

“More than
anything, because this moment means so much to me. That’s why I’m here today to
show you that we belong together. I’ll show you how much” she whispered
huskily.

Her fingers went to
her buttons and quickly her dress shimmered to the floor, then she slowly
lowered her panties. She was naked.

“Do you believe me
now?” she purred.

She was beautiful.
No she was more than beautiful; she was absolutely stunning standing there in
the moonlight.

“Yes…yes I believe
you now” he whispered, too mesmerized to say anything else.

She moved closer to
him and she held his head in her hands and kissed him.

“Get undressed now”
she whispered. “And hurry!”

She watched as
Michael undressed and when he was naked she took his hand and led him to the
single bed in the corner of the tiny room.

“You won’t forget
me now, will you?” she enquired desperately.

“I can never forget
you Sally” he replied. “I’ll never forget you……….Saleeeee.”

* * *

“Michael, wake up.
Please wake up!” someone asked.

Sally’s naked image
was already beginning to fade, only to be replaced by a thick fog.

“Sally! Sally!” he
cried. “I need you Sally!”

“I’m here Michael”
someone whispered.

“Mum, is that you?”
Michael asked desperately, trying to reach out to someone, anyone.

“Yes it’s me. Open
your eyes, darling. Please open your eyes, son” she stressed.

The stab of pain he
felt when he tried to open them made him quickly shut them again. Michael tried
to open them again and he felt the same stab of pain, but he slowly the feeling
subsided as his eyes began to focus. The fog began to slowly clear as his eyes
adjusted to the light.

“Oh darling, it’s
so good to have to back” she cried as she kissed his forehead.

“Where am I, Mum?”
Michael whispered hoarsely.

“You’re in the
General Hospital” she explained, before adding, “You’ve been in a coma for
nearly three months.”

“I’m in hospital
and I’ve been in a coma?” he mumbled sadly. “Sally was just a dream, just a
dream.”

“Who’s Sally?” she
asked.

“Ah, no one Mum, no
one, except the girl of my dreams” he admitted.

“Well you’re back
with us now and it’s for real, son” she whispered, kissing him again on his
forehead.