At the Bottom of Bermuda

SS Chesterfield

A single ray of sunshine danced warmly across her face, tickling her nose along with a curious odor. She lazily awoke. The pile of hay crunched beneath her as she propped up onto her elbows, taking in the surroundings and reminding her of the current predicament. Overnight, she had become a stow-away.

Standing up, she picked off the remaining strands of hay clinging to her gown. When she looked up, she made eye contact with, and could now process the smell of, her newest cabin mates: a team of horses. They apathetically stared at her from their makeshift stalls whilst munching hay from hanging mesh baskets.

There was a round window on the back wall of the cabin, allowing light to penetrate the cramped space. She walked over and took in the scenery. An expanse dark blue ocean met with a piercing blue sky making for a spectacular view of the horizon. Mesmerized, she watched the ship's wake bubbling and rippling in a rhythmic pattern. It was her first time on a boat. She felt uneasy, but not from seasickness.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, her heart quickened as she darted behind the tower of hay bales. The wooden door creaked open and the horses' keeper walked in whistling a cheery tune. Spying from around the tower, she could see a little man that looked to be in his 70's refilling their buckets of water.

"Good morning, my beauties," he chirped. He walked around to every horse, giving them a loving pat, and received approving snorts in return. He seemed kind and gentle, possibly even trustworthy. She debated revealing herself to him with hopes of making an ally but considering they had only left the port from Wilmington the previous evening, she decided it best to wait until the ship was too far to turn around or drop her at the nearest port.

As soon as the door shut behind him, she scurried over and searched the wood for a crack to peek from. It seemed as though her cabin faced a set of stairs not five feet beyond the door, which the keeper had climbed to reach the exit. She could hear him open another door beyond her line of vision at the top of the stairs. She assumed it led out into the open, as she could hear distant voices of the crew.

Once the coast was clear, she slowly slid open the wooden door to avoid any loud creaking. Assessing her surroundings with a bit more detail, she could see to her immediate right was a similar wood cabin door, possibly housing more horses, and just behind the stairs was another set of wooden doors. This must be the animal barracks, she thought.

Further emboldened, she slid out and carefully climbed the stairs. The exit door had a small window, revealing a large open deck. In the middle of the deck stood a tall metal pillar with a barrel at the top, possibly a watchtower. Beyond the pillar emerged a large white superstructure appearing to have two floors and possibly made of steel. It was rectangular in shape and the walls dripped with rust. More than likely this building housed the accommodation quarters and dining area. At the final extension of the superstructure was another tall pillar, this time an exhaust pipe, releasing clouds of black smoke high into the air.

Not seeing anyone on deck, she cracked open the door. The voices and noises were coming from beyond the white structure, so she dashed around the corner towards the back of the ship. Up another short flight of stairs, and passing a similar yet much smaller white-square compartment, she safely reached the stern.

Looking out over the calm water, she felt like she was floating in a dream. Her gown romantically undulated around her, catching the breeze. She reached the furthest spot where the railing came to a point and wrapped her hands firmly around the cool metal rails. She inhaled a deep breath of the salty air. It smelled of freedom. She closed her eyes and smiled.

Only twenty-four hours prior, she had been at home. Sitting at the head of her dining room table, ignoring the extravagant breakfast laid out before her, she picked at her bowl of plain yogurt with bits of fruit and granola. Her father left in the early hours of the morning, yet again, for one of his revered press conferences, while her mother was presumably heavily intoxicated in the drawing-room.