Coconut Chaos by Diana Souhami (some good books to read txt) 📕

the Bounty appeared on the empty sea. I observed the charcoal of the sky, the roar of the sea, the taste of salt, the sharpness of the air, the size and whiteness of the ship, the still cluster of uniformed men on the deck, the widening space between the ship and the boat. The word ‘goodbye’ was in my heart. I waved and waved. I thought of Bligh in that crowded boat as he watched the Bounty sail away, of Verity blowing a kiss as I went through the departure gate, of a far-back image of an elderly man in a black coat on a forgotten jetty, waving at someone I didn’t know, who was on the same ship as I. He waved and waved. As the ship pulled away he became a speck. He ran down the jetty, took out a white handkerchief, and waved some more.

We rounded Pitcairn to the south of the island where the sea was too wild for the Tundra Princess. The longboat cracked against waves. I shivered with cold and wiped salt water from my eyes. ‘With unremitting violence’, as Carteret said, the surf crashed against the cliff face. Frigate birds swooped low, coconut palms crested the cliff tops, clouds were trapped in the mountains. I thought of the apprehension of the women on the Bounty as they drew near to this harsh place so unlike their home.

A cluster of people came into view on the small, roughhewn jetty at Bounty Bay. They’d been waiting since dawn, scanning the sea, knowing its power. A wave rushed the boat to the landing place. Ropes were thrown and seized. Hands hauled us to the land. Islanders anxiously enquired about the hoped-for provisions. Lady Myre and I were scrutinised. She looked dazed and was unnaturally quiet. A scattering of children stared. Someone introduced us cursorily to the group, most of whom were ‘visitors’ from New Zealand: a teacher, two social workers, two prison-builders, a locum and his wife, the governor’s representative and his wife, two policemen from Britain.

I’d arrived at my chosen destination no matter how random the reasons for choosing it. With all that voyaging there was now no turning back. ‘Hello,’ Rosie Christian said with a relief and smile I echoed. ‘So glad you’ve made it. In this terrible weather, all this way and after all this time.’ I sensed her kindness, that common bond, and I realised with disappointment that I’d made a mistake in my choice of blouse.

III

ON PITCAIRN

The interplay of different rhythms produces a special version of chaos

25

Bligh returned to England in March 1790 to a swathe of publicity. He’d been away two years. His account of the mutiny was unequivocal. He told Sir Joseph Banks he’d have had to be ‘more than human’ to have foreseen what happened. ‘To the last I never lost that presence of mind or professional skill which you have been pleased to allow was the first cause of my being honoured with your notice … My Character & Honor is Spotless,’ he wrote. ‘My Conduct has been free of blame.’ He said if he’d had commissioned officers and trained marines, ‘most likely the affair would never have happened. I had not a spirited or brave fellow about me.’

He singled out Fletcher Christian and Peter Heywood as the main culprits. He’d every day

rendered them some service … It is incredible! These very young Men I placed every confidence in, yet these great Villains joined with the most able men in the ship, got possession of the Arms and took the Bounty from me with Huzzas for Otaheite. I have now every reason to curse the day I ever knew a Christian or a Heywood.

Bligh capitalised on his ordeal. On 1 April the London Chronicle advertised publication of Captain Bligh’s Journal of his Wonderful Escape at Sea in an Open Boat for 49 Days. George Nicol, ‘Bookseller to His Majesty’, published the first part with the title A Narrative of the Mutiny on Board His Majesty’s Ship Bounty; and the Subsequent Voyage of Part of the Crew in the Ship’s Boat from Tofua, one of the Friendly Islands, to Timor, a Dutch Settlement in the East Indies. A sequel published anonymously promised ‘Secret Anecdotes of the Otaheitean Women Whose Charms it is thought Influenced the Pirates in the Commission of the Daring Conspiracy’. At the Royalty Theatre there was a sell-out musical The Pirates, Or the Calamities of Captain Bligh. Ralph Wewitzer starred as Bligh and Miss Daniels sang ‘Loose Ev’ry Sail’. A less successful musical followed, Tar Against Perfume or The Sailor Preferred.

Neither Heywood’s mother nor his sister Nessy believed their Peter could be guilty of mutiny or dishonour. He’d been fifteen when he joined the Bounty. Mrs Heywood wrote an imploring, desperate letter to Bligh on behalf of her son. Bligh’s reply was nasty:

Madam

I received your Letter this Day & feel for you very much, being perfectly sensible of the extreme Distress you must suffer from the Conduct of your Son Peter. His baseness is beyond all Description, but I hope you will endeavour to prevent the Loss of him, heavy as the misfortune is, from afflicting you too severely. I imagine he is, with the rest of the Mutineers, returned to Otaheite.

The Admiralty authorised a frigate, the Pandora, with twenty-four guns and 160 men, under the command of Captain Edward Edwards, to seek out the mutineers. Edwards was to sail first to Tahiti and if the men weren’t there, or only some of them, he was to call at the Society and Friendly Islands and other islands in the Pacific to round up as many of the ‘delinquents’ as he could discover. ‘You are’, his orders read, ‘to keep the mutineers as closely confined as may preclude all possibility of their escaping, that they may be brought home to undergo the punishment due to their demerits.’

That punishment was hanging. Article 19 of the Naval Articles of