Pam looked up to see all the sailors and marines were lined along the gaily painted rails. As the pinnace drew close the men sent up a cheer, whooping and hollering with a gusto rarely seen in the cool-tempered, well-mannered Swedes. Pam saw Gerbald on the bench down from hers waving back at the sailors like some teen-age state fair princess in a parade, full of winning smiles and gracious bows. This made Pam and Dore both burst into laughter. They joined in with the merriment and waved and shouted greetings back to the cheering crew.
Soon they had clambered aboard with the help of many friendly hands, accompanied by the high, keening tune of the bosun's whistle. Now, for the first time, their entire company stood assembled on the deck of the fanciful junk they had acquired at such bloody cost. The men opened a space around Pam and her staff, all the while clapping and cheering. After a while, the bosun raised his hands and brought the men down to a hush. Pam smiled warmly at all of her Swedish friends, the men who had brought her to the far side of the world, the men who had worked so hard to make her safe and comfortable during their castaway days, the men who had become as brothers to her.
"Herr Bosun, you fellows shouldn't put up such a fuss!" Pam said, her West Virginia twang creeping into her Swedish. She was beginning to feel shy and a bit overwhelmed as she always did when finding herself in the public eye.
"It is from our hearts that we do. We have been delivered from our sojourn on that wretched shore and are in possession of a fine craft. All of this is because of the great courage and many skills you, Herr Gerbald, and Frau Dore have lent to us. We never would have been able to live as well as we have while lost, or to have captured this prize without your help, and especially your leadership, Pam."
The men broke out into a cheer again, clapping their hands for Pam, who felt as if she wanted to dissolve into the deck.
The bosun nodded and fixed a toothy grin on her. Before she could make a break for it, he said, "In the tradition of the sea, a captured vessel becomes the property of the victors, in particular the leader of the victors, their captain. Pam, you made the plan which ensured our success. You led the attack like some warrior queen from out of the old tales!" He paused to dramatically sweep his arm across the decks in a gesture that included all the grinning men standing at attention. "This is your ship, we are your crew and you are our captain. We await your orders, Captain Pam!" He gave her a long salute, his eyes meeting hers with what Pam thought could only be admiration. Ending the salute, he gave her a polite bow and took a step back to join his men silently at attention.
Somewhere a seagull cried and the sound of gentle waves lapping became intensely loud in the silence. Pam's eyes were as wide as porcelain plates, their steely gray having attained a glazed cast. After a while Gerbald reached out and poked her in the arm, a deep chuckle coming from beneath the shade of his ridiculous mustard hat's floppy brim. Pam looked back at the men, her men, and managed a kind of stunned half-smile. She nodded slowly a few times, taking it all in. Somewhere inside the turmoil of emotions whirling through her brain she heard a calm, clear voice, the one that always came when she really needed it: You have earned this honor, Pamela Grace Miller. Now acknowledge their faith in you. It is yours by right! Suddenly her eyes came into focus, she drew back her shoulders and in an unexpectedly loud and commanding voice bawled, "Make ready to sail!" The men jumped at her order, spreading out through the ship, led by Pers who was the fastest. With the exception perhaps of Pers, these men were eager to be back to their profession. They had tired of life on the shore and bent to their tasks with relish. The bosun stepped forward to pump Pam's hand in the American-style Gerbald had showed him.
"Was that the right thing to say?" she asked, relieved that the show was over and reeling from the ramifications.
"Absolutely! Well done, Captain Pam. I knew you had it in you!" The bosun beamed at her.
"Look, I'm not so sure about this captain thing, Herr Bosun. Isn't it a job that's better suited for you? The extent of my maritime experience is rowing a boat around a lake as a kid. I have only a vague idea how to sail a ship, much less captain one."
"No, ma'am, I wouldn't have it. This ship is squarely yours and you command her. There's a lot more to it than the sailing, you can leave that to us! In a situation like this, far from home and moving into danger, we need a leader we can get behind and that's you. Besides, we already chose you for our captain in all but name months ago back on the island. We liked the way you ran things there and will follow you wherever you go next. We don't fear danger."
Pam's eyes were moist, she was supremely touched by the confidence these brave men had shown in her. The bosun saw that she needed time to let it all sink in and motioned toward the aft cabins.
"If I may be so bold, Captain, might I suggest you and Frau Dore have a look around the ship?" He started to go but then stopped, with a bemused expression on his face. "Perhaps I have grown a bit rusty. You ordered us to make sail but what is our destination?"
Pam looked out at the sparkling azure sea to think for a moment. "Well, the plan was to anchor here tonight. We know its a safe harbor. Why don't you just take us for a spin up and down the beach, just give me a little demonstration of what we feel like under way. Then let's anchor back here and give everyone a rest. I think the men need one before we go off chasing French warships and the like."
The bosun beamed. "Very wise, Captain, very wise. Now, leave it all to me and make yourselves at home. What I believe serves as the captain's cabin is just up those stairs, and meaning no offense, ma'am, but you might find more comfortable clothing there, although it will likely be of a heathen cut."
Pam looked down at what was left of the clothes they had landed in, barely rags and held together with grass stitching in places.
"I think that's the best idea I've ever heard, Herr Bosun! We look a mess. We'll try to find some new clothes and some for you and the men as well. We are all a bit worse for wear."
"Well, then, I'll get back to work. May I ask Herr Gerbald here to come help with raising the pinnace? He has an eye for rope work and is the only one of us who can make some sense of this foreign tackle." Then he and Gerbald just stood there looking at her. After a long moment it dawned on her. Oh good Lord! He's waiting for you to say yes, dummy!
Pam quickly muttered her captainly assent.
"I would be delighted, Captain Pam!" Gerbald answered enthusiastically. "I have always loved a good puzzle." Gerbald had been in Pam's service for a number of years and knew the high quality of her leadership well, even if she herself didn't see it. Even so, as he left he didn't neglect to give his friend and employer a smirk, pleased at her discomfiture. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Ever hear of walking the plank, buster? Yeah, you in the funny hat!" she called menacingly after him. She turned to see that Dore was smiling broadly at her, face flushed with excitement. This rare sight filled Pam's heart with a shiny kind of joy and she grabbed her friend's hand.
"We need new clothes, sister. Let's go find some booty!" Pam said to her.
"Yes, ma'am, Captain Pam!" Dore replied in English with her thick German accent, coming to comical straight as a board attention and adding a snappy salute. This made them both start laughing and so they began their exploration of the exotic and alluring foreign ship.