Raise the Blue Peter

An extract from the journal of Dr. Stephen Maturin.

It is the finest of feelings to stand once more on board a sailing ship, the wind in my face and the ozone assaulting my senses. Jack Aubrey may think me an infernal landlubber merely because I do not always distinguish a sprit sail from a spanker but the truth is I have spent the last ten years of my life afloat and am more at ease these days moving to the rhythm of the waves than with my feet planted on terra firma.

Leaning on the taff rail - or rather standing at the open door of the aeroplane - I watched as my new friends arrived and made their way up the gangplank (e.g. pardon, stairway) to join Jack, Angel, myself and the rest of the crew. There were twelve couples in all - as well as a large number of singles- a slightly curious imbalance, but it seems to be a feature of these modern times that every arrangement is accepted. There is even a young sodomite amongst our ranks, a charming young fellow to be sure, but one might hope that he restrains his ardour in public. In truth, I am quite concerned of the effect he might have on Jack who eyed some of his remarks with wariness- as did the irascible police officer White whose expression suggests he has a tendency to the choleric disposition - perhaps I could mix him an appropriate draught or treat him to one of my enemas?

We had spent a most engaging evening the past night as we made our final plans and assembled before making our early start for the airport in our separate transports. Rather more alcohol was consumed than might have been wise at the time considering the long day ahead of us - but it seems the nature of sanguine men and women. I knew that Jack was eager for an prompt departure; he had been studying the charts of the area at some length and wished to make the most of the tide - or rather he simply always feels that one must hurry everywhere and 'lose not a minute'. Does he still not realize that airlines do not require to catch the tide?

By the time they all arrived this morning at the terminal, most of the couples were rather subdued, a little worse for over-indulgence in the grape. All, that is, apart from Jack, who was, as usual, in fine fettle. He seems never to suffer from the abuse he gives to his digestive tract and blood stream, apart from the inevitable thickening of his waist about which I have warned him for years.

At nine sharp we had all assembled in the departure hall. Unfortunately three members of our party were still missing. I doubt if it is necessary for me to recall their names for you, dear readers - I am sure you all can guess to which couple (and their passenger) I refer. Jack was pacing, beginning to lose patience, hands behind his back and the fingers of one hand drumming a staccato rhythm on the other. He hovered by the entrance, his face somewhat red, constantly checking his timepiece.

"This is unacceptable! We cannot delay further. If they do not arrive within the next quarter of the hour, they can damn well charter their own plane! He can drop on board from one of those parachute contraptions if they want to join us!"

At that moment a car screeched to a halt and our two miscreants emerged in the full flow of what seemed to be a tumultuous disagreement, followed by Arthur and a sweet young thing - I imagine there is a tale to tell behind her appearance! What a delightful girl, with such a flush on her pretty cheeks!

The other occupants of our party appeared to be highly amused by the performance of the late arrivers, although some attempts were made to repress their evident hilarity. However others, particularly two of the younger gentleman, the rather scrub-like one they call Hando especially, made some quips of a personal and ribald nature. Jack grew ever more incensed. A woman's voice could be heard:

"My fault? It's always bloody my fault! If you hadn't..."

The crux of the confrontation appeared to be the apportioning of blame for their late arrival. She blamed the long and protracted act of congress that he had embarked at dawn which had resulted in their subsequent deep-satiated slumber - thus the inevitable oversleeping. He, however, asserted that when one is already late for an appointment it is the usual custom to - and I quote- 'get your bloody finger out!' I do not think that I could render that notion any more succinctly than he did. He also mumbled something about: 'Didn't hear you complain at the time.'

Jack stepped forward and spoke tersely to Mr. Thorne - for it was, of course, he.

"So kind of you to join us, sir. Is the concept of timekeeping not one about which you are familiar?"

To this he received the reply. "Get a life, Jacko. We're on holiday, not preparing for Trafalgar. Take it out on Fanny Adams over there - see if you can talk any sense into her."

At that Uma ran up, struggling with her hand luggage. Jack immediately relieved her of it. "Jack, you are such a gentleman compared to some people I know. I hope we haven't kept you waiting. As you know I hate to be late for anything." She did have the decency to turn to the whole group and wink. Jack responded as one would expect:

"Of course not, my dear. We have only just arrived ourselves. Think nothing of it." And he took her hand and kissed it.

A general dissent was heard from the rest. Uma curtsied and received a round of applause. Terry groaned. "For fuck's sake, don't encourage her!" But she still tripped on up to check in with Jack toting her bag for her.

I shook Thorne's hand in welcome and wondered again at his similarity to Jack. They could stand next to each other in a street and not appear to be alike at all and then you look at them and feel the strong grip of either hand - and the differences peel away. He would be a good man to work with; I can sense the deep intelligence beneath his laconic exterior. Nothing ever misses this man's gaze. In that, he is not like Jack at all, who sees only the existing scene - Thorne reads men behind their masks. He is a master of the game of intrigue and a formidable opponent, I would imagine.

It seemed the difference of opinion was soon made up - the pair of them were laughing hysterically about something even before they boarded the plane. I have a suspicion the argument might have been a ruse to hoodwink us all - I think they both have a similar sense of the absurd when it comes to teasing the others and know that not all of the members quite appreciate their singular humour. It is a rather Gaelic tendency- the gift of romancing an audience. I expect we will see even more of it before this trip has concluded.

It was not the only matter that had made Jack irascible so far. At check in, sorting through an inordinate amount of luggage, Jack had been looking thunderous at what he saw was an excess of baggage. Of course, he was unable to comment as he would have wished as none of the men had more than a light bag with them - the ladies, however, seemed to have mountains of valises. Jack would never openly chastise a lady. I have always noted the strange corollary in the traveling luggage of the fairer sex. The smallest creatures always carry the most- it appears to be inversely proportionate to their physical size and ability to actually tote it themselves. An idle notion.

Angel had been standing by Jack, an amused expression on her face as he paced and fussed. I saw her whisper into his ear and he shook his head sternly.

"...Then, I'll have to check it out myself. Trouble is these airport bars are pretty shady joints. I might have some trouble from unattached gentlemen..."

"Wait!  I will accompany you for one drink and that is all. Come!"

Angel had beamed as Jack took her hand. Her parting words to me were. "I'll keep him busy until this lot are on board. Otherwise he'll burst a blood vessel. Give me a shout when they're all ready."

She is a wise woman. It is always preferable to cage the lion when he is in that mood. 

By now finally we were ready to embark. The first couple to board was Clarity and John Biebe, a rock of a man, perhaps the most like Jack physically, built like a small mountain, but sporting a mane of chestnut hair that would grace any woman - an unexpected vanity against his intense rugged masculinity and bearded face. What a beautiful woman Clarity is! But then, I am partial to French women - it is in my blood. There is something about those flashing eyes and the proud carriage of her head that draw a man in. It would be a lucky man indeed who won her permission for an intimate encounter. Her man is a fine chap, strong and honest but with a gentle soul and a deep thinking nature. He is also a romantic as was proved by his spontaneous act as they reached the steps- he swung her up in his arms and carried her squealing on board.

Once inside, he set her down most gently and took my hand. "Good to see you again, Stephen. Looking forward to this." The stewardess, a charming woman called Carol directed them to their seats. The beautiful Clarity reached up and kissed me softly as a greeting. "Bonjour, mon cher Etienne." I could not quiet the sigh that her generous kindness caused me to utter.

Still following her pretty figure as she ran after her man, giggling playfully, I was brought back to the present by a shout. "Oi, Doc! Stop lusting after Frenchie and give me a hand. I've got a little something for this Sheila and she'll have to have it out here if you don't move it along..."

He really is a most objectionable young man at times, although at others he can be curiously sensitive and approachable. His lady is a most charming woman. She is what you might call 'spirited', and I mean no disrespect when I say that. It is merely that I knew her like well in my own day.  She puts me in mind of my own dear Diana. Scarlet is intelligent, incisive, and outspoken, with a biting wit and a delightful fiery temper. However, she is easily misjudged - this woman has steel underneath the soft, exterior of her beauty - I suspect she has her ruffian of a man under control. His threatening dominance is unconvincing - the boy is besotted with her. "Miss Scarlet - a pleasure as always. And Mr...." I bowed.

"Hando. Fuck off, stuffed shirt. And keep your limp hands of my tart. Got that?"

I think I smoked his meaning very well and merely nodded my acquiescence as he passed. Hando hoisted her over his shoulder with a 'never fucked on a plane before' quip, but I wondered whether his desire to get on board and his belligerent attitude were masking his unease. He is a nervous traveler, I would avow. I recognize the syndrome.

It was wonderful to welcome aboard old friends.  Lachlan and Cassie strolled on next hand in hand with big smiles on their faces. "Hey, Stevie, my old mate! Trepanned any brains lately? Got one here that would keep you occupied..." He pushed Cassie towards me and she giggled.

"You can feel my assets any time, Doctor Maturin. Take no notice of him. Someone once told him he was funny." Cassie teased, throwing him a petulant face, which made him roll his eyes and smile. She was her usual demonstrative self, throwing herself at me in a most indecorous and yet extremely pleasurable way. I have to say, she is a most playful and intoxicating woman.

"Good to see you, my dear. We will talk later. I have looked forward to this for many weeks."

They both smiled and went up top. He is of course very familiar with planes and seemed at home, going up for a laugh and a joke with the pilot and navigator before he settled down.

"G'day, Doctor. How's your head, mate?" Young Jeff and his Ganymede, Paul. These two young men are quite irresistible in both their high spirits and the evident affection they feel for each other. There is nothing effeminate about them; they are two fine specimens of manhood calling to my mind the ancient Greek notions of male love where the sexual bond between two friends was thought to be the highest form of manly vigour. Achilles and Patroclus was such a pair.

"Good day, gentlemen. Uma has taken the liberty of placing you in a shared room on the island. I take it this is to your approval?"

"Too right, mate. Need something to grab in the mornings, know what I mean?" Jeff replied nudging my arm knowingly and Paul shook his head. He is quieter and more reserved in public than his friend - or perhaps less sure of himself in this gathering of people. He must be aware that Jeff has already much shared history with many of the women and something in Jeff's demeanour with them, and theirs towards him, suggests that he still has interest in the female of the species. This may be an interesting social experiment to observe- if I may dare to be so callous to admit.

Our next arrivals were a couple I do not know well, but my first impressions were delightful. East Driscoll an impressive young man whose eyes stand out - his are particularly clear and honest. This is a man for whom dissemination is a stranger. I would trust him with my life. His partner is the lovely Wildie, a most natural women, who has a gentle courtesy. She would have graced any salon in London in my own time - genteel and yet reserved - but so obviously enamoured of her fine young man. I hope we become firm friends.

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Driscoll. Miss Wild."

"I am honoured," she replied most prettily and we shook hands warmly.

"The stewardess will direct you..." and they went off to find their seats.

My attention was then taken by the police officer whom I mentioned earlier, Bud White. An intriguing man whose personal history fascinates me. A rough and raw fellow with an unusually rigid moral code not articulated well but described in his behaviour and attitude towards others. I have met such men in my years afloat and understand the intrinsic goodness they possess. It is a quality found in many common seamen- a tough and uncompromising face with a sentimental nature beneath. I like such men, for they are exactly what they appear to be. I have found that to be a rare commodity in either my time or this present age. There is no man whom you would want standing behind you in adversity more than he.

His companion was Marie, a most appealing woman- one of whom I know Jack thinks highly (and not merely for the impressive swell of her breasts - although I think they will feature highly in his memories of her) She is fair and blue-eyed, soft and womanly with a mane of glorious red hair - the type of feminine pulchritude that men are instantly drawn to. However, her eyes were set firmly on her man, who appeared to be a little tetchy. I suspected he was still recovering from the after effects of the night before. I decided not to mention the water enema...

"Mr. White and Marie. This way..."

"Thanks, pal. I think I could do with a bit of shut-eye. Talk to you later." Mr. White stood back for Marie to go first, an old fashioned gesture that I was pleased to see he still observed. She, however, stopped and gave me a kiss.

"Stephen, I so want to have a chat! Honey, there are a million things about Hawaii and its flora and fauna I want to ask you about. I'll catch you later - when I've put the old man to bed. His bark's worse than his bite. Honest!"  What a dear lady she is!

A group arrived altogether then. The younger men, Jack Corbett and Johnny Ryan ran up the steps as if they had been racing each other and then both looked a little shamed faced at their boyish behaviour. Young Corbett immediately seemed to take a shine to the stewardess Carol and engaged her in conversation. She in turn gave him a wide beaming smile and took great pains to see he was well settled in his seat. Then, up strolled Egan, Cort and Colin, escorting a few of the unattached ladies, another charming Frenchwoman, Gaia, and the vivacious Erycina.  John Nash and Zack Grant brought up the rear - Grant was already snapping at Nash but his mood soon changed when he in turn saw the stewardess. He gave her an up and down look and said "Are you going to check my lap as well for anything unfastened?"

The young woman widened her eyes, repressed a grin and gave him an equally open appraisal. "You never know you're luck when you're traveling, do you now, sir?"

Zack gave her a wink, gave Corbett a smug grin and sauntered down only to swear colourfully when he realized he was seated next to John Nash - who, to be fair, seemed equally annoyed. They certainly seem to be the odd couple.

"Morning, Stephen. Trust Uma to arrange a doctor on board..." Dino O'Leary entered the cabin with Heather, his hand with a firm grip on hers. They are rather enigmatic this pair, but I sense there is a deep bond.

"My dear Heather! So good to have you back with us at last!" I announced. I am so taken by the fair Heather and still remember fondly a night not too long ago when we both reached the stars together. But a gentleman does not speak of such things, of course. She grinned shyly but her eyes sparkled. There is a delightful touch of devilment in this woman. Dino smiled, too.

"Yeah, she's quite a one for disappearing. But not to worry - I have her thongs under arrest. She ain't going anywhere without these..." Heaven knows to what he was referring and, as he then made a rather dramatic show of...er...adjusting his undergarments, I would rather not know where said item might have been stowed.

Then along came Eris and Maximus, an impressive pair. He had remained on the tarmac to oversee the loading of baggage. Maximus is a man with the innate command that you would expect of a general of his experience. Although more given to seriousness than the others, he was smiling today and seemed to be very at peace with himself. I fully intend to settle down with him one night over a bottle of cognac and raid his mind. What an experience for a classically educated man such as I to converse with one of the ancients - a man who knew Aurelius! It is almost beyond belief that I could have this chance- but then the whole existence of this singular world beggars belief - and yet we are still here.

Eris held his hand and he proffered her forward to greet me. She is a gracious woman, elegant and calm, but with a shy charm that is reflected in her lowered eyes and the slight blush on her cheeks. Her fair skin and pale golden hair are so delicate. Her intelligent gaze puts me in mind of a great thinker; it is as if she can see inside my soul.

"Doctor Maturin, I am delighted to be aboard." I kissed her hand- it seemed an appropriate method of address and I realized that she was grateful for the politeness.

Maximus shook my hand and inquired of Jack. I looked around, surprised that he was not back. Time was moving on. "I'm afraid I may need to send a runner for him. Most unusual."

The general smiled. "We are at leisure. It would do us all well to remember that!" And he moved on down the cabin.

Was that everyone? Why, how could I forget to mention the most important passenger of all? At that moment my sweet Bridgid came up behind me and slipped her arms round my waist. "Are you about to stand there all the flight? Come and sit down and stop worrying. Everything is fine. They're all grown ups. Let's just enjoy ourselves together, hey?" I patted her hand and assured her that once we were finally ready, I would indeed take my seat by her and from that point on, she would have my complete and undivided attention. Our relationship is progressing nicely and I believe that before this day is over, we shall 'know' each other very well indeed. I await developments with anticipation. Bridgid leaned round and I gave her a kiss on her perfect lips before she tripped away to wait back to out allocated seats to wait for me.

Finally Mr. Maloney ran up the gangway, rubbing his hands together. "That it then?  Everyone here? Let's get this show on the road. Where's the Captain? Shouldn't he be shouting 'Cast off' or some such shit?" Young Dominic  was accompanied by Darrin who had a broad smile on her face. She has been like that a lot lately. I suspect her recent friendship with Mr. Maloney might be the reason for this exceptional euphoria.

"Stephen!!!! How fantastic to see you again!!! Give me a big kiss!!!!" She is very enthusiastic - we had been together only a few hours before at the pub and yet it was a sif she had not seen me for months! But I enjoyed her warm embrace and the feint of boxing that young Dominic put on to caution me not to try and take his girl.

But where indeed was the captain? Summoning one of the crew, I directed them to call the nearest airport bar with an urgent request for the captain's presence on board. Minutes later Jack emerged looking stern although the watery gleam in his eyes and the high colour of his face, added to the giggling of Angel as she ran up with him, both hand in hand, suggested he had been over-imbibing again. He is partial to rum.

A voice shouted down from the upper deck. It was Terry Thorne. "Hey, call this timekeeping, Jacko? Hurry up, lose not a minute. Shake a leg! I was just about to raise the Blue Peter then and go without you, mate!" He grinned down the aisle to his amused audience who raised a cheer for the captain, his arms resting on the back of the seat in front.

Jack shot him a look and then broke into a broad grin himself. "I must warn you, sir, that once we catch the tide, I am in charge of this flying ship and all its occupants. And if there is a brig I might choose to make use of it." With a commanding roar he turned and shouted "Raise the Blue Peter! All hands to positions. Make sail!"

And the Calypso sailed smoothly down the runway.