Chapter 1
The Pelican was a winning sailing sloop built on the Abaco island but was Captain Jolly Rolle of Rolleville Exuma Island's pride for 12 years straight. He was undefeatable in the B Class regattas. He traveled through the islands of the Bahamas sailing the gauntlet of races until he was declared undisputed among the skippers in his class.
As a child, Captain Jolly whose long-forgotten given name, Joel Prince Albert Rolle, grew up on an island where resources were slim and the fields were the grocery store. Whatever the ground yielded made its way to the table in some form or another. Corn was eaten dry roasted or ground into coarse grits to accompany any fish or meat that was available while bananas and plantains would be boiled or mashed to make pancakes as a rare treat.
The blessing was that everyone in the modest settlement often shared and so there was always enough to go ’round. His family was a large one back then, consisting of both parents and eight siblings, five boys and two girls. He was the youngest son and was dominated by his older brothers Nate (Nathaniel), Bernie (Bernard). Cy (Percy) and Gully (Godfrey). His younger sisters Patience and Darlene, were the jewels of their father’s eye and he made no bones about that fact.
It was often that Jolly would find himself running around shirt tail or completely naked waiting for the threadbare hand me downs from his older brothers or for the material of the flour sacs to become available resulting in his wearing flour bag bloomers hurriedly handstitched by his mother Rosalie to ‘cover his shame’.
At age six, to hear Jolly tell it, would have been the time he had fallen in love with boats. His older brothers had conspired one day to go down by the creek because they had a secret hiding there, but two obstacles stood in their way, one it was a blessed Sunday and two their Father Simeon was home.
Simeon a man of few words, was larger than life with a voice so deep it rumbled on the way up to his vocal chords and Jolly often thought that if thunder spoke words it would be just like his daddy’s voice.
Standing at 6 feet 5 inches, His arms were as thick as young trees and his legs even more so. His broad shoulders could carry both of his daughters aloft with Jolly hanging around his neck while he strode with Nate and Cy holding on to his left leg with Bernie and Gully clinging to the right. They would laugh and scream as their daddy strode about taking them for the ride much to the disapproving glances of their mother who would finally give up and join in the laughter.
Though quiet, Simeon was no less a disciplinarian, He sported a hogs hide belt that not only secured his trousers but was used to keep the boys of his brood in line. More than once, Jolly remembered his older brothers limping to school because of the generous correction they had endured the night before. As they groaned with each step, they would bitterly and viciously whisper how they hated their pa and couldn’t wait to get bigger than he was to give him a taste of his own medicine.
But that Sunday their daddy was extra tired because he had just come from working the ferry to Williams Town rowing folk back and forth and he was out like a light after his dinner of fried snapper, peas ’n’ grits and fried plantains with a large molasses jar of limeade to wash it all down.
After his meal he stretched out on the floor of the small living room his body just about a few inches’ shy of the length of the space with just a pillow beneath head. He chose to nestle under a window that was shaded by a sapodilla tree and was snoring in no time. The boys surmised that now was as good a time as ever and decided to make their exit via their bedroom window on the opposite side of the house.
Now Cy who was the third oldest was taller than everyone else so he slipped out of the window first, being careful not dislodge the window stick that held the shutter open and then stooped over leapfrog style so that the others could climb out using his back.
“Hey can I go?” Jolly asked urgently, which started a whispered debate among his brothers.
Bernie and Gully told him that he would slow them down and was too much of a cry baby while Nate urgently insisted that they get going and whoever told him that he could come would be solely responsible for him.
Cy then decided it would be him and allowed an excited Jolly onto his back and carried him all the way to the creek. The walk was filled with conspiratorial whispers as Jolly was sworn to secrecy at the peril of his left testicle and right eye if he spilled the beans, sealed with a spit to the left, then to the right, a handstand and crossed heart.
As they traversed a secret bush trail toward the creek the air lay humid, thick with smells of the surrounding stagnant ponds and boggy pits that would no doubt hold quicksand. Wandering even deeper into the bushes, tendrils of wild lime thorns began to tear at their arms and legs attracting a horde of mosquitoes that sang incessantly around them; coupled with the scent of rotted custard apples from the trees that grew prolifically in this type of environment the journey seemed twice as long.
Cy’s neck was sweaty and his back was getting too slippery for Jolly to hold on to and frustrated, Cy lowered him down and herded him forward guiding his steps over the unpredictable terrain and he dared not complain because he would not give Bernie and Gully the satisfaction of calling him a cry baby yet again.
Then the path cleared and a bracing blast of sea breezes cooled their sweat and dirt streaked faces and Jolly knew they were getting close because he smelled the heady fragrance of the sweet Margaret trees whose leaves when boiled in hot water made the most marvelous tea.
The sea would be another half mile away but a lovely creek that rounded a crag out to the sea was the perfect spot for fishing and hiding what Jolly soon learned was a raft built by his brothers.
It was moored within the hollow of some mangrove trees and was anchored by a Crisco can filled with cement and tied with a string.
It sat daintily on the surface of the water and bobbed invitingly. His brothers stripped down to their underwear as did Jolly and holding hands waded out into the shallows. Mid way, he once again had to climb on Cy’s back because a swift current was rushing as the tide went down.
When they reached the raft they all scrambled aboard which caused the raft to tip precariously, so Nate decided that they should all board one at a time to distribute the weight evenly.
They sat Jolly in the middle of the raft while they each sat each in a corner and then breathed a collective sigh of relief because they had managed to remain afloat.
“Let’s take her out!” Gully excitedly suggested.
‘Nope she aint named yet and that’s bad luck.’ Bernie countered.
Which started their usual bickering and then a splash war. As the oldest, Nate decided that going a little way out would not hurt, so they hoisted the ‘anchor’ and the current greedily pulled at the raft. Cy figured they needed oars of some kind to keep the raft going in the direction they choose and thoughtlessly they all disembarked to search for sturdy branches leaving Jolly who weighed a mere 56 pounds aboard the raft that immediately was swept away toward the mouth of the ocean.
By the time Jolly found his voice to cry for help he was 12 yards away and nearing the crag. His brothers stood ashore waving their arms and screaming for him to drop the anchor to slow the raft. Desperately he tried to lift the can, but the rope got caught around his ankle and as the can went overboard, so did he but not before the raft dinged him on the forehead knocking him unconscious.
The current was stronger than the makeshift anchor was heavy and so Jolly was now being dragged underwater. Blessedly the can got wedged between two rocks on the creek bed, and this brought the hellish ordeal to a full stop but Jolly was still in danger. His eyes fluttered open beneath the water as he saw a streak of silver shoot by him and then felt his foot being untangled as strong arms hoisted him to the surface where his lungs greedily gulped air.
The sun blinded his eyes and suddenly he was flying fast toward shore the arms still beneath him and he only slowed as he got near enough to shore to hold on to a casuarina branch that lay rooted on the shore but overhanging in the water. As he grabbed a hold he heard a woman’s voice say “The sea is your mother child, and the waves your brothers and sisters the salt will stay in your skin as long as there is no greed in your heart.”
He then heard a tremendous splash behind him that sent a large wave forward and then his brothers voices cracking in fear and trepidation calling his name over and over again.
“I’m here” he finally managed to croak. And all of his brothers paddled out tears streaming down their worried faces as they gently brought him to shore, cleaned the bruise on his forehead that was already becoming a goose egg and swiftly returned home eager to erase their almost fatal misadventure from their minds.
