Ophelia Adrift by Helen Goltz

Author:Helen Goltz [Goltz, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2016-06-30T23:00:00+00:00

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I was torn. I needed more information and I knew just the person to talk with—Uncle Seb. I looked at the large clock hanging near the door. It was ten-thirty and Uncle Seb was usually in his study until late; I had to see if he was up.

I grabbed my empty hot chocolate cup and made my way down the stairs. The lounge room was in darkness, as was the kitchen. I didn’t put on the lights, just made my way to the sink with the moonlight provided, avoiding looking out the windows, which took all my will power. I was too frightened of what I might see; I was frightened he might appear but I wanted him to as well.

Argo and Agnes had turned in, but Uncle Seb’s light was still on down the hallway. I coughed lightly as I walked down the hallway so I didn’t startle him.

“Is that you, Adam?” he called.

“No, it’s me Uncle Seb,” I appeared in his doorway.

He sat behind his desk, wearing his glasses and working on a model ship.

“Lia,” he smiled and removed his glasses. “What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you about the La Bella?” I asked.

“Of course, you know I’ll talk about ships until the ships come in ...” he smiled at his own joke. “Take a seat.” He looked around and pointed to a ship model with its rows of sails up. That’s her there,” he said.

I pulled up a chair on the other side of his desk.

“She’s beautiful. I was wondering what you knew about the crew?” I asked. “For my assignment.”

“Ah yes, how’s that going?” he asked.

“Great. I’m looking at a number of shipwrecks, but Chayse and Adam have both helped with the La Bella stuff and I’ve got some good information from the news clippings. There’s not much about the crew—those who died and survived.” I added both to avoid suspicion.

Uncle Seb nodded. “There’s a photo of William Ferrier with some of the survivors.”

“I saw it,” I said, “and one image of some of the victims.”

“Yes, there’s little recorded about the deceased,” Uncle Seb said. “It was a terrible end—the exhaustion, the conditions, trying to hold on and some of them only lads.”

He opened his own files and notes about the local area. He showed me several photographs and spoke about the survivors. I waited patiently not wanting to give away my urgency. Finally he started talking about those who didn’t make it. Just get to Jack!

“Then there was a young sailor Jack Denham, seventeen years old.” Uncle Seb turned to his computer and opened a file—he had a press clipping that I hadn’t seen. He read aloud parts of it to me about when a gigantic wave shocked onlookers and made survival seem impossible: “It seemed certain that the crew could no longer retain their precarious hold. To the amazement and the relief of the awestricken spectators, the plucky fellows still held on, but shortly after they were compelled to remove to a higher portion of the vessel, which had swerved right over on her beam ends, and began to gradually disappear.

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