Sample read - Voyage of Abigail

Ann Lancaster awoke in a fright. Something was wrong. She felt herself about to be tossed from the bed. Laying on her back, with her right hand, she punched Josias who was sleeping next to her. The tossing from the bed did not happen, but the fear of it remained.

Shocked out of a deep sleep, he awoke and instantly sat up in bed. Then he almost fell over, and would have, had he not thrown out both hands against the mattress to steady himself.

The ship was rolling. Rolling severely from side to side. Against the closed window panes behind them, the whistle of angry winds buffeted the glass. They were flying above the ocean through the midst of a storm. And it was no meek storm.

The ship was swinging from side to side, and now a hard bump jolted it, and sent Ann’s heart pounding with fear. “What’s happening, Honey?” she asked, in a hoarse whisper.

“A storm,” he answered, in the low whispery quality which was his voice. “It seems to be a big one.”

“Are we going to be okay?” Josias would have the answers, she knew. He would be able to put things right. It was his duty as her protector to make things safe.

But that was not fair, she corrected herself. He was but a man.

“Aye. We will, Darling.” That was the only appropriate answer he could give. He did not feel the confidence of his answer to her.

He steadied himself, and fighting the side-to-side sway, reached for, and managed to grasp the handset of the telephone on the table by his side of the bed. He put it to his ear and shortly, a voice came over the line from the other end.

“What’s happening, Gilbert?” Gilbert was the captain, and the chief pilot on the voyage, and he was at the helm this night.

“It’s a big’un, Sir,” the pilot answered, saying almost the same thing Josias himself had said minutes before.

Gilbert Flanigan ought to know. He had spent his entire career before retiring, piloting Zeppelin airships back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean. He would certainly know about storms.

“What does that mean?” Josias demanded, a note of harshness in his voice. “Can we weather this one? What are your plans to get us through this?”

“Sorry, Sir. I shoulda been more specific. It is a big storm. No hurricane, of course. But still, a lot of wind, and a lot of rain with it. It’s gonna bump us around a bit. Sorry, for the rough ride Sir. It’s out of my hands to do anythin’ at the present.”

“What more can we do to ease it? Or rather, I should say, keep us up here?” Josias was not put at ease, but he did not want to let any hint of fear come through to further frighten his wife.

“I retracted the sails,” the pilot answered. “Had to send young Whitmore outside to do that. Hated to, but he’s a strong lad and he managed to pull ‘em in with no problem. At this point, all we can do is ride it out.”

“Putting down to the surface is not a choice?” Josias asked, already knowing the answer. But he must ask it anyway.

“No, not at all,” Gilbert answered. “With the winds as they are up here, down there, we’d be facing swells sure enough to swamp us. We’re better off up here and just lettin’ the wind carry us where it will.

“Without the sails we’ll just go where the wind takes us. Of course, even if we left the sails up, with what we’ve for rigging, we’d just go where the wind took us.

“We don’t wanna risk losin’ any riggin’. To answer your question, Sir, right now there’s nothing we can do t’ smooth the ride. I’ve got the men keepin’ an eye on the riggin’, the balloon, and everything else.”

“Good. Thank you, Gilbert. Just keep me informed if anything should change.” With that he replaced the handset on its cradle, and reached over and took his wife’s hand.

Now she was wide eyed, and the terror in her face was vivid. And her hand holding his, trembled. His job now was to assure her, and keep her safe. To the best that he could do, and right now, that seemed precious little.

“Are we going to be okay?” she asked.

“We are, my Love,” he answered. Through the windows, the flashing of lightning lit the interior of the cabin. With the flashes coming at close intervals, it was bright enough to see each other’s face. And she kept her eyes on his face.

He too knew a new fear. This air ship had never been proven in weather like this. Calm air with gentle breezes to carry it along in the direction the sails were set for, was all the craft had ever experienced. Now with only cables, four and twenty in all, wrapped around the balloon to keep it secure to the deck below, was that enough?

What would it take for some of those cables to snap apart, and the balloon break free? What might be the chance of a seam on the balloon ripping apart and releasing all of the lighter than air gas it held? A rapid fall to the ocean four thousand feet below, and sure death for everyone on board.

Death even for his beloved Ann. That was too much, and he felt the bitter bile of sickness rise in his throat. He clenched his jaw hard to try to put his mind elsewhere.

“What o’clock is it?” he asked. He answered his own question by flipping open the lid of his watch which hung by its gold chain over the bedpost on his side of the bed.

“Nigh three in the morning,” he mumbled, more to himself. “Of course we are more east than we were yesterday, so we can’t be sure what the hour is here. It may be later, and the sun may arise soon.”

“I hope so,” Ann answered, her hands still trembling. She would feel more secure in the light of day.

Josias, carefully holding onto the post of the bed, and feeling like a drunk man, climbed out of the bed. Moving to the wall behind the bed, he put his face close to the glass of one of the windows.

The almost constant glare of lightning flashes lit up the outside world. But all he could see was the insides of the clouds they were riding through.

Looking down, he sought to catch a glimpse of the surface of the ocean below. There was nothing to be seen beyond a few feet in any direction. From the other side, heavy rain pelted the glass in front of his face.

The ship made a violent jerk, and losing his balance, he landed seated on the floor. “Are you okay?” Ann cried in an anxious voice.

With the flashes outside, through the window there was enough light inside to see where he sat, resting on his backside, and his hands on the floor behind him.

“I’m fine,” he answered. Josias Lancaster was spry for his sixty-three years, but a fall is still a matter of concern. The bones of one that age are not as strong as they are in a younger man. He knew that, and taking stock, he decided that he was okay. No harm was done other than what would result later; Sore hip muscles.

He managed to stand to his feet, and feeling his way around the wall for support, he reached the switch that turned on the electric lights in the bedchamber of the cabin apartment.

He had decided early on, during the design and construction of the ship, to forego using gas lights anywhere on the ship, fearing the risk of fire. And now with the room rocking so, he was glad of his decision that there be no open flame used for light.

Three wind driven turbines mounted in front of the balloon supplied electric power to keep the ship’s batteries charged. Those batteries provided enough current to power the small electric lamps located throughout the ship, as well as the measuring instruments used for navigation. And the wireless.

Other appliances such as the refrigerators in both the private galley, and the main galley, as well as the water desalination machine, and pumps to clear the bilge, and any water intake inside the hull, were also powered by the charged batteries.

Only the stoves for cooking were powered by gas, thus a small tank, holding enough for the anticipated duration of the voyage was onboard.

Now the room was illuminated, and Josias turned to face his bride, who still sat upright on the bed clutching the mattress cover in both hands to steady herself.

The fear seen in her eyes caused him pain. He had brought her, following some persuasion from him, on this voyage. Now he began to question the wisdom of the choice. Had he carelessly and selfishly put her life at risk?

He ran his fingers through his bushy, silver hair, as was often his way when he was worried, or in deep thought, and with a sigh, studied the beauty of his bride. Even with her auburn hair down, mussed from sleeping, and lacking any makeup on her face, she was right now, the most beautiful woman he knew.

A quick vision of Abigail entered his thoughts. Hers had been a different kind of beauty, he told himself. He had loved Abigail. He still loved her, for does real love ever die? But Abigail was gone and now, he loved Ann. Ann was here with him.

Ann was the real and living wife who was his. He knew that had Abigail lived, she would be now in this cabin with him. But now something of that dream was fading. It was Ann who now filled his thoughts, his desires and his dreams.

And now that future was uncertain. Would they outlive this night? Do not entertain such thoughts, Josias, he chastised himself inwardly.

The storm would pass, or they would pass through the storm, and the ship christened after his late love would hold fast through the worst, and once again clear skies would prevail.

He dressed. As much as it was possible to dress when the floor under him bounced in unpredictable directions, and seemingly all at the same time. “Stay here, Dear,” he said when he saw the questioning look on her face. “I am going to make a quick run to the wheelhouse.

“I won’t be gone long. Whatever you do, don’t go out on deck. It’s too dangerous for anyone out there right now.” He knew that admonition was not necessary with Ann, as she would certainly not venture out of the cabin. But he said it anyway.

Before leaving the cabin, he sat on her side of the bed. He then took both of her hands in his. Together they prayed for God’s protection.

Josias had never been a praying man in his former days. Nor had he been one to give much consideration to religious thinking or words.

But, now with his associations and close friendships with Martin Vandergriff, and Harris Wimberly, he recognized how important prayer was to those two. Knowing the quality of the lives those two men lived, as did their families, his own interest was turning to the same belief and practice.

He observed that even in his own life, it seemed to make him a better man. And for Ann’s sake as well as his own, that was a good thing.

Ann promised to remain in the cabin. Now that they were up, she decided to begin the morning by attending to her toilet and dressing. Later, after Josias returned to the cabin, they would manage something in the private galley to break their fast with.

Harold Whitmore, was the crew member who above his deck duties, also served as cook for the Lancasters and the crew. Now, he would be in the galley and doing his best to prepare something for the nourishment of the crew.

But Ann too, loved cooking. Other than the first night of the voyage when the whole company dined by the expert skills of Harold, she and Josias dined on her own cooking in their own private galley. And in the cabin apartment she shared with her husband, she would likewise, make of something, a meal upon his return from the wheelhouse.

Filled with anxiety while Josias was away from her, she fiddled with her hair in front of the dressing table looking glass. Inside, she prayed her own prayer for their safety.

She wished for coffee, but that would be a difficult drink to make with so much shaking of the ship. Coffee would have to wait. While she sat, she remembered a favorite Scripture, and she whispered it to herself.

“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.”

Josias, using both hands against the walls to each side to steady himself, made his way down the inside passageway from the back of the ship to the front where the wheelhouse was, and where the pilot Gilbert was on watch.

Above the passageway, noises from the main deck arrested his attention. The banging sound came from hatch covers catching the wind, and pounding against the frames on each side. The screaming sounds of wind running through the riggings mixed together, formed a chorus not pleasant to the ears.

A loud thump sound, followed quickly by a jerking of the ship to the right threw him off balance. He caught himself against the wall, and he did not fall.

The sound had come from above. He decided that a movement of the large gas filled balloon rising above the deck was the cause of the noise. “Dear God, let no harm come to that balloon. It’s all that’s keeping us aloft.”

He prayed that the lines holding the balloon in place would hold. Once again, the sudden thought chilled him down inside. The image of the balloon breaking away from the ship, or tearing and losing gas taunted to him. Control your fears Josias, he scolded himself.

He entered the wheelhouse. The ship shifted position suddenly, and the door slammed hard behind him. “Sorry, Gilbert,” he apologized for something he had had no control over. “Any changes? Is all well with the ship?”

“Aye, Sir,” the pilot responded. “The ship’s fine. No changes in the weather I can tell. No idea how big this ‘un is. This storm, that is. We could pass out of it at any time. Or...”

Josias understood. It could carry them to where, only the storm knew. Or they could drift out of it with it dying away. That was the thing with storms over the Atlantic. Nobody knew how big they might become, or when they might show up. Or how long they might last.

Weather people, and those who made a science of studying the weather could never with certainty say what size a storm like this might grow to be, nor what path the storm might take.

***

The pilot, a man of fifty-five years, was best described as ‘beefy.’ He was not fat, nor was he particularly muscular. He simply had mass. And his middle was expansive while his legs were thin, giving him a peculiar look.

He was bald. Having only a growth of hair around the sides and the back of his head, he detested that look, and now kept all of his head completely shaved. His brown eyes, over a round, almost bulbous nose, most often appearing as mere slits, twinkled to reveal his jovial nature.

Even when serious, as he was now, considering the weather outside, he looked untroubled. Josias trusted that look. The pilot was well experienced at flying through weather like this, and perhaps worse. But trusting the pilot, and trusting the airship which was a product of his own engineering skills were not the same thing.

Josias knew that Gilbert was a single man. Single due to divorce, as his wife, after some years of trying to cope with the long periods of the absence of her husband, decided that such a marriage was not for her.

Gilbert had taken the divorce in stride. Now as often as his flight schedules allowed him to, he kept in close contact with his two grown sons, their families, and his several grandchildren.

After he retired from flying passenger dirigible craft, finding himself not suited for sedentary retirement life, he took on freelance flying assignments such as this one. The prospect of flying such a craft excited him, and he came seeking out Josias when he heard of the pilot opening.

“Any idea the direction the storm is taking us?” Josias asked.

“Not where we wanted to, I’m afraid,” Gilbert answered. “This is certainly not the direction to get us to Paris. According to the lodestone needle, we’re bein’ pushed to the southeast. Do you fancy goin’ to Africa rather than Paris?”

Certainly, the question was made in jest, and both men knew that. It did cause Josias to grunt a chuckle. “I’ve been to Africa,” he replied. “There are some fabulous sights to see, and some great people to meet. But thank you, let’s end this flight in Paris.”

“Can’t tell how far south the storm has taken us, you know,” Gilbert said.

“I understand,” Josias replied. “Without seeing sun nor stars, it is hard to find our position. How about the direction finder wireless?” He referred to the wireless receiver with the rotatable loop aerial which could be turned to pick up the signal from a land wireless station. The aerial would point to the direction from which the strongest wireless signal came.

“Tried that,” Gilbert replied. “Nothin’ but static noise, and no wireless signals heard. We’re too far out from land in any direction to hear anythin’. I keep tryin’, of course. A few more hours, we may be closer to some land station.”

“And the communications wireless?”

“That‘un too,” he sighed. “Fraid that’s the one thin’ damaged. The aerial blew away. Broke loose early in the storm, and it must’ve blown away. Too rough out there to try t’ find the end of it. Or t’ strin’ up the spare. Yet, at least.”

“I repaired that thing day before yesterday,” Josias exclaimed.

“Somethin’ hit and broke it loose, it appears. We had some heavy hail a couple hours ago. Did you hear it?”

“No,” he answered. “We must have been sleeping soundly. Didn’t hear a thing. Have we suffered any other damage?”

“None I know of,” the other man answered.

“What are the other chaps up to?”

“I relieved Franklin. He’s gone to bunk out a while.”

“What about Whitmore?” Josias asked.

“He’s below makin’ the rounds of the internal bladders. Makin’ sure everythin’s okay with them. Also checkin’ the condition of the gas storage tanks. They’re good. So are the compressor engines. And of course, lookin’ for any structural damage. So far, all is ship shape, as the old sayin’ goes.

“He’s no good in the galley just now. Nothin’ of cookin’ to be done like this.

“Right now, our main interest is t’ keep everythin’ up top secure. I’m keepin’ an eye on the pressure in the big balloon up top.” He pointed to one of the gauges on the wood panel to his right. Josias noted that the needle on the face of the gauge pointed over mid-way into the green segment.

“So we’re maintaining altitude?” Josias asked.

“That we are,” the pilot answered. “With the usual plus ‘r minus a hunnerd feet or so due to the wind, and other atmospheric factors affectin’ the altitude gauge. We’re stayin’ around four thousand feet.”

“Would we be better going higher?” Josias asked.

“Not really. This storm looks over fifty thousand feet tall. We can’t go that high anyhow. Changin’ altitude would do us no good either way.”

Josias patted the man on the shoulder as he prepared to return to his cabin. “Thanks, Gilbert. I’m going back to my wife. She’s a touch frightened right now, so I don’t want to leave her alone very long.”

He had to grab hold of one of the columns in the room as the ship made a sudden lurch and spun about so that the lodestone needle swung in the opposite direction.

Another of the ominous thumps came from the direction of the outside balloon. Josias noted that even Gilbert with his knowledge and experience had a sudden worried look on his face.

“God, keep Your hand on us,” he prayed silently. This was such a time to keep in mind the need for the Providence of God, he reminded himself. He decided that he would keep that confidence in his heart.

Halfway through the passageway, going back to his cabin, the ship lurched with the bow rising upward violently. That sent him falling the rest of the way, only to be stopped by the doorway at the end.

The ship leveled again, and he lay on the floor, stunned and bruised. Nothing appeared to be broken. But his body hurt. Now real fear, more than before, filled his heart.

“God,” he cried out loud, “am I going to be one of those men who pray only when I’m in trouble?” I don’t want to be that kind of man, he thought to himself. “Nevertheless, God, if ever I needed Your help, I need it now.”

To pray, actually felt good for some reason which he did not understand. Putting his wellbeing, and that of his loved ones and ship mates into hands bigger than his own brought a sense of relief.

He could not do everything on his own, and it was good to be free of the trying. Right now he must get back to Ann. She would be in a terrified state, and both of them needed each other.

***

When the front end of the ship lurched upward, Ann was thrown off her chair and against the back wall of the cabin. Hitting her forehead against the wall, she was dazed. When the ship righted itself again, she lay on the floor confused, and unsure of what had happened to her.

With her eyes remaining closed, she touched her forehead, and felt the wet stickiness of blood. She lay there for a time before attempting to sit up. When she did, she remained sitting on the floor, for the ship was still heavily rocking from side to side, and she felt dizzy.

Trying his best to keep his feet in their proper place under him, Josias reached the door of the cabin apartment and pulled it open. Entering the bedchamber, he saw blood.

His heart jumping a beat, he rushed to where Ann was still sitting on the floor, and lowered himself to the floor beside her. The blood was coming from a very small cut on her forehead above her right eye. A large bump had developed. He reached to touch it, and she pushed his hand away.

“It’s okay, Darling,” he said, wanting to sooth her. “The cut is small. The bump is big though.” The blood was still trickling down running to the side of her eye.

He looked for something to press against the cut. Not seeing anything within reach, he struggled to his feet and made it to the water closet where he found a towel, and returned with that and some tissues. The flow of blood was soon staunched, but the spot remained painful.

“Are we going to be okay?” she asked, anxiously.

“Aye, we are,” he answered, not sure of the truthfulness of that statement. “Everything is proper in the wheelhouse. Gilbert’s a good pilot. The crew members are doing a bloody good job of keeping things together.”

As if to belie that point, the ship began to shudder, and bounce side to side, all the more than before. Ann grabbed for him, and taking both hands full of the front of his shirt, she drew him to her.

Still sitting on the floor, he encircled his arms around her shoulders. “Darling, we have to have faith. That’s a new thing to me, you know, but I am wise enough to know we need to have faith to see us through dangers in life and hard times.”

Without letting him see any change of her expression, inwardly she thrilled to hear him speak of things of faith.

Josias had always been a hard man. With an aspect of iron, things of spirituality were just not within his nature. She had known that, but she knew that he did have a tender heart and now in recent months, he had softened noticeable.

I don’t want to change who he is, she warned herself. A woman can rob a man of his spirit if she sets her heart to making him into something that he is not. No, she would never want to change his toughness. But she was glad that that toughness was opening up, even if just a little, to matters of God.

“You know what I turn to when I am afraid?” she asked him.

“I think I know you well enough by now, my Love. You recite Scripture.”

“True, Honey, but more than just reciting it, I let it be a prayer. An appeal to God, you know.”

“I think this is a good time to put that into practice,” he replied.

“I memorized it. Let me take your hand and let’s make this a prayer for God to see us safely through this.” He gave her his hand. “It goes like this,” she began.

“There shall no evil befall thee,
neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.
For he shall give his angels charge over thee,
to keep thee in all thy ways.
They shall bear thee up in their hands,
lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”

When she had finished with the quote, she added her own prayer. “God, here we are. We are in Your hands. All we ask for is Your protection. We ask for safety for ourselves, and for the others aboard with us.” She ended it with “Amen.”

Without thinking, he echoed the Amen.

“Who would have thought, three days ago when we lifted off from Vandergriff’s place, that we’d be where we are right now?” he pondered aloud.

“And where are we?”

“I have no idea. Gilbert told me we’ve drifted considerably south from our course. The storm has blown us south. We’re not on our way to Paris. At least if we keep on this course. Without the sun or stars to see, he can’t get a good reading on our position. Without the wireless direction finder, that’s not helping.”

“What do we do? Just drift?” she asked.

“That is all we can do for the time,” he answered. “Just wait for the storm to pass. We don’t know how far the storm will go, or if it will begin to die out.

“Either way, it’s pushing us along. It’s not keeping us out ahead. It’s running on ahead of us, and at some point, we will be left behind. Behind the backside.”

She understood. If the ship held together until then, they would be fine. If something went wrong? They were in God’s hands, she told herself.

Josias rose to his knees. Then he helped Ann to rise. Together, both holding on to each other, and to nearby furniture, they were able to rise to their feet.

He went to one of the windows and looked out. Outside it was just as dark as it had been the last time he had looked out that window. So far, there was no sign of the coming of dawn. But which way was the ship pointed right now? After all, he could be looking in the direction of the night.

He was, for when he moved to one of the side windows and looked to the right, he did see just the slightest hint of grey. The light of the sun was breaking through the clouds in that direction.

That direction was to the east. South east, actually. Wherever the storm was carrying them, the bow of the ship was to the south east. That was certainly not the direction to Paris.

***

The storm did give way, and the wind died down. As the world outside became brighter, the sun shown in the east. Now it was completely calm. The ship was not moving.

On deck, Gilbert and Franklin stood with sextants taking sightings, “shooting the sun,” they called it, and with charts and pencils for notes, they soon determined the location of the ship.

“At our last reckoning we were almost fifty-three north Latitude by fifty west,” Franklin Sawyer observed. “I’ve got the exact position noted in the log inside.”

Gilbert Flanigan nodded, concurring. “But that was twenty-two hours ago, accordin’ to the log,” he stated. “That’s with the chronograph and the Greenwich clock. How far’ve we come from there durin’ the storm? We didn’t take a position readin’ at the time the storm began.”

“I know,” the other replied. “We should have.”

The two men noted the position of the sun, and the time on the pocket chronometer Gilbert held, and then they returned to the wheelhouse.

“Just estimating,” Franklin began, “but since the lodestone needle suggested that we were moving more south than east, we may not be too many Longitude degrees off of where we were at the time noted in the log at the start of the storm.”

With the storm cleared, and the lightning and thunder ceased, they were able to use the direction finding wireless. Finding two transmitting stations of which the locations were known, they were able to triangulate their position with much greater accuracy. Now, they knew where they were.

The phone rang in Josias’ and Ann’s cabin. Josias answered it, knowing that it was the wheelhouse with the report on their position.

“Where are we?” he asked, rather than “hello.”

“We’re about three hundred miles off of our course,” Franklin, the one on the other end of the phone answered. “South. We’re more easterly too. We’re going to have to sail north to put us back on track for Paris.”

“Thanks,” Josias replied. “How is the condition of the ship?”

“Good, Sir. We have a few of the cables holding the balloon needing putting back in place. Not a major matter to do so either. All of them should be made right before the end of today. We may find a few other things to tidy up, but as of right now, all looks shipshape.”

“What about the wireless aerial?”

“That too,” Franklin replied. “Just a matter of hours, I think. We found the end of the wire which had come loose. The one you fixed, or said you fixed.” Josias chose to ignore that comment.

“Your prayers have been answered, my Love.” He hung up the phone and turned to Ann who was looking at him with expectant eyes. Then he corrected himself. “Our prayers.”

***

At the middle of the day, the storm returned. Or rather, having left one storm cell, they now entered into another one. This one promised to be as intense as the one they had just passed through. Once again, the world around them grew dark. They were free of the night, but they were not free of the darkness.

As if to mock their prayers, and to rob them of the relief they had felt not an hour before, the sudden pounding of large hail began, and the noise was deafening. The hail threw at them, hitting the surface of the deck above them, as well as that just outside the door of the cabin apartment, as if some giant was now hurling stones at them.

A different kind of sound was caused by the hail hitting the firmly stretched fabric of the gas filled balloon. A frequent frightful twanging sound came when hailstones struck rigging ropes and bounced off.

Josias made his way to the outer doorway of the cabin apartment and with his face close to the glass, in the light of the flashing of lightening, saw the bouncing on the deck of many hailstones. Some as large as golf balls. Some as though they were oranges.

As they struck the deck, they bounced, and some were caught by the wind and blown away. Still, the surface of the deck outside was becoming covered with a layer of white.

That’s not good, he thought to himself. Along with the risk of damage to the balloon and to the rigging, not to forget possible broken window panes, the added weight would cause them to lose altitude.

Certainly, the wheelhouse could compensate, if they thought too much altitude was lost. But what if the weight became too great for compensation? That fear chilled him.

As if to add one final assault, a large hailstone blown by the wind crashed through the window glass just before his face. He ducked back quickly, and avoided receiving any glass shards in his face or eyes.

Josias feared the hail more than the wind. He added his own silent plea to Divine Providence. The roar continued, but for only a few more minutes. Then it became almost quiet. They were still in the storm, but the hail had ceased. Only the wind and the rain remained. For that favor, he felt relief and thanksgiving.

Chapter 1 - At The Wind's Mercy

Three men were in the office this afternoon. The man the office belonged to was present, and he was the one currently sitting behind the massive oak desk. Josias Lancaster sat leaning forward. His elbows rested on the surface of the desk, while the fingers of both hands were buried deep within his thick silver hair.

Before him, on the desk, and now with his eyes focused on it, was a sheet of paper filled with hand drawings, and writing. Beside it, lay a stack of other papers.

He fiddled with the gold rimmed monocle lodged in his right eye, and finally let it fall to the stack of papers on the desk. He looked up from the papers at the two men present in the room with him.

Sitting on one of the two chairs before, and facing the desk, was a younger man. His hair was coal black, and wanting to curl, matching his trimmed mustache and goatee. Except for the curl, that is.

His eyes were fixed on Josias as though waiting for that one to speak, but now only silence reigned in the room. With his fingers he twiddled with the brim of his silk top hat which was resting on his lap.

Standing with his back to both of the other men, was a portly man. Tall, and taking away from the embarrassment of his girth, the result was, to those observing him, he was simply big. His round, perpetually red face, with a sheen of perspiration, was framed on the sides with his bushy, reddish coloured muttonchop whiskers.

He stood facing the single window within the office. That window overlooked a great assembly area inside of the factory. Martin Vandergriff never failed to enjoy watching the work going on down below.

Martin was an engineer, and his nature was to enjoy all things mechanical, and it was mechanical work that he was now observing.

The big man pivoted around suddenly. “How many today, Josias?”

The silver haired man sitting at the desk turned his head, and with a puzzled look, glared at Martin. “How many what, Vandergriff?” he asked, his voice its usual whispery, but loud enough not to be missed by the others in the room.

Martin, who had a habit of injecting thoughts into any ongoing conversations, thoughts which were not related to those conversations at all, gave forth with his characteristic chuckle. “Engines, man, engines.”

“Oh that,” Josias responded dismissively, running the fingers of his left hand through the long thick hairs of his bush mustache. Once again, Martin had broken his thought process, as he had been reading with attempted comprehension, the contents of the paper before him.

“Three, I think. Today. I’d have to check with Production.” Not that he had any intention of doing so. “Great Western Railroad ordered three engines. I think those were due to be finished today.” The impatience in his voice betrayed his irritation at the detour away from that which had been on his mind.

Once again, Martin shifted the topic. “Do you really think you can stand to be absent from all of this for an entire year?” he asked.

Josias sat back, leaning his head against the high back of his leather chair. His steel grey eyes focused on his subordinate. “Martin, I really believe I need to do this. You can be assured I’ve given it much thought. Ann and I have spent, well, much pillow time talking about doing this. We both need this.

“Honestly, I am tired. You know that. You’ve seen me the last couple of years or so. I believe I have lost much of my passion for all of this.

“But to answer your question, the first voyage will not be a year in length. Little more than a month. The longer adventure will come later. Shortly after this one, I think.”

He swept with his left hand toward the window that overlooked the factory. “I can’t afford to lose it now. You know the numbers, Martin.” He turned to the other man. “You do too, Harris.” Harris nodded in agreement.

“Lancaster Iron Works is doing well enough. I owe much of that to you two, you know. But we do have a great team here. I’m proud of every man and every woman who works with us. Every single one of them. And of you.”

He paused. “You know it can’t continue being like this if it’s running on idle. And I feel like that’s what I’ve been doing lately. Idling.

“Albert Flanigan will be stepping into my place while I am gone. He’s a great manager. You both know that, of course. Martin, I know that you have always worked well with him.”

Martin nodded in agreement. Flanigan was a good man, Martin acknowledged. “Where is Albert today?” he queried.

“Meeting with the board of directors,” Josias answered. “I asked him to meet with them on my behalf. He knows the plan already. I’ve read no opposition from any of them, so I think we are all in agreement.

“By the way, did you know that his brother, Gilbert has just retired from a long career of piloting Zeppelin airships?”

Neither of the other men knew that, nor did they know who Gilbert Flanigan was. “Why do you ask?” Martin queried, puzzled.

“Because I’m going to need a pilot.”

“I hope more than one pilot,” Martin returned. “If you plan to fly anywhere, to any distance you’re going to need at least one other pilot to spell the other. Unless you want him falling asleep at the helm.”

“You’re correct,” Josias answered. “At least one additional pilot.”

He rose from his desk and walked to the sideboard that stood against the opposite wall. There from a crystal decanter, he poured three glasses. Giving one each to the two other men, he took his and lifted it toward them. The gesture was followed by the other two.

“Cheers, gentlemen,” he exclaimed. “To things that fly, and those who ride in those things.” He sipped and remained standing by the sideboard.

“I need a restart,” he continued. “Ann and I have been married a year and a half now, and we have not even had time to enjoy a proper honeymoon. We’re doing very well, and are very happy together, thank you for asking.”

Nobody had asked, but the nature of the personalities of the three men, and their relationship with each other allowed for such jesting. And they already knew.

“And she’s with child, I gather,” Martin offered.

“No, she is not!” Josias retorted. “I’m not like Harris here, who did the deed on his very wedding night. Or so he tells us. Besides, time has passed us by. There will be no offspring from this marriage.” Then he added, “sadly. The dream of my having an heir to pass the company down to is long gone.”

Harris Wimberly smiled, thinking to himself how he had responded to Anna’s announcement to him, that first night, that she believed that she had conceived their first time together. Their wedding night. “What can I say, Sir?” he asked, chuckling.

“Jolly good work, Harris, is what I say,” Martin added. “Josias, you know I love the jesting game, but seriously, if you only knew how happy I am for you and Ann. You deserve the blessing. She has indeed been so good for you. And, I know you are good for her as well.

“If you but knew how often Mother and I mention you both in our prayers, that God will continue to bless your marriage – and I know He has – and give you both a long life of happiness together.”

With a sigh, Josias returned to his desk, and took his place in the chair again. Once more he placed the monocle in his right eye, and his attention was drawn back to the stack of papers laying before him.

“And Ann and I thank you for your prayers, Martin. Really, we do.” He picked out a sheet of paper from its fellows.

“I’ve created a rough draft of the chart of the organization to operate during my absence. The board has a copy of it. If they offer no changes, or whatever changes they do offer, the final copy will be made official, and printed and distributed.

“Now to the business of why the three of us are in this room now,” Josias announced. The other two men already knew the reason. This time together, this meeting in Josias’ office, had nothing to do with the affairs of Lancaster Iron Works LTD. This was all about the ship. The airship Abigail.

“Give me your thoughts, Gentlemen,” Josias requested. “You have both been on her when she was airborne. You’re both better versed in the technical realm than I am. Is she both airworthy enough, and seaworthy enough for a transcontinental voyage?”

Harris from where he sat, looked at Martin. That one stood halfway between the desk and the window. The expression on his face turned thoughtful, then questioning as though to ask, “am I the one to answer such a question?”

Josias read his facial expression. “You know her best. Can she maintain an altitude sufficient to cross the Atlantic?”

“You are considering crossing the Atlantic?” Martin asked. “Was that your desire when you conceived the ship at the start? I thought as much, but I don’t believe you ever owned up to just where you intended to take the airship.”

He knew that he had hit a painful cut, and he immediately regretted asking the question. “I am very sorry, Josias. I was really out of line with that question.”

Josias, whose face had hardened briefly, now relaxed and he sat back in his desk chair. “It’s nothing, Martin. Nothing at all. It’s a fair question.

“When Abigail and I made our plans to wed, we both talked of such a trip. She was an adventure story reader, and from somewhere, perhaps some book she had read, the idea came forth. I had had the opportunity to do much traveling, you know, but she had not.

“I wanted to show her the world. I wanted to take her to places she had only dreamed about going. How the whole dream ended up turning into the plans to build the ship, I can’t… I think it was just the conclusion of our spoken hopes and dreams.

“So true, though we never actually reached the point of making a travel itinerary, we knew that once the ship was completed, we would embark on such a voyage.

We had not decided between Europe or Africa as our destination. It was the ideal, the dream, which drove us on to wanting to make it happen.”

He paused and that familiar dark shadow crossed his brow. Harris had seen it before. Martin who had known Josias much longer and much more intimately, knew that once again, the old memory, and the old sorrow had arisen to the surface. That thing known as grief, and that which remains with the widowed forever.

Josias had his new love now in the person of Ann, but the memory of the denied hopes and dreams he could have shared with Abigail, would be his to bear in pain until his dying day. Martin knew of it, but only Harris and Josias in this room had lived it.

“So what you had before was simply the idea,” Martin stated as a question, puzzlement in his voice. “Design and build the ship, and then come what may, take it… No plans. So what about now?”

“She died before we were able to make concrete plans,” Josias answered defensively. “But now here we are today. I do want to make the voyage. No, Martin, I have not yet created the itinerary.

“But the ship is complete. You know that. From that first test flight two years ago when we christened her Abigail, we’ve made several more test flights. Is she or is she not airworthy, and can she make such a long voyage?

“Consider this one the shakedown voyage. Paris perhaps. The next one? The one which may take us away for a year? That remains to be seen. And no. I don’t know how soon that one will come about. Likely shortly upon returning from the first one. But it all remains to be decided. There is much to consider and plan.”

Martin had once again returned to, and was facing the window overlooking the assembly floor. “I think she can,” he said to the window. “It’s very much an unknown thing for certain, but if the gas tanks, the inner bladders and the balloon can hold without losing any gas, you will be able to maintain altitude.”

He turned to face Josias. “Of course, there are dangers. Storms over the Atlantic. Failures on board, including navigation controls as well as the mechanical controls of the ship itself. Things can go wrong.”

“Airships transit the Atlantic all the time,” Josias countered. “The Zeppelins pass between Europe and here daily. Both ways. Other airships like ours often span the same ocean without hindrance.” He sounded as a man who was trying to make a case for a venture which he himself was not sure of.

“Since Zeppelins have entered the conversation,” Martin injected, “what about this man Gilbert Flanigan? He should be enough of an expert with flying machines to be a good consult. Right? Has he looked at Abigail? I’ve not seen him at my place. Have you asked him for his opinion?”

“Aye. I have spoken with him,” Josias answered. “He’ll be here next week for that purpose. And of course I want to talk to him about the pilot situation.

“He came to me when he heard I was looking for pilots. I’ll defer to his experience and knowledge. If he thinks that it’s an unsafe venture, that’ll be the end of it.”

“Good, good. Very good,” Martin responded in his usual mannerism of agreement. “Let’s have Mr. Flanigan’s opinion on the matter as well.”

Martin then changed the course of the case making. Turning to Harris, he asked, “what say you, Harris? Josias is not asking our permission to do this thing. I think he is simply wishing to verify his own conclusion, and to see if we’re in agreement. What do you think of his chances?”

Harris rose and walked to the sideboard where he refilled his glass. “He does not require our permission. Or anyone’s permission, for that matter. It’s a frightful proposition, to my way of thinking,” he answered.

Harris was a man who desired the predictable. He hated interrupted plans. And certainly, he hated facing or anticipating unexpected mishaps. Even those that never came to pass.

He would prefer to fly in larger, proven craft over the ocean to visit Paris. He had, after all, taken Ruth there on their honeymoon. But, that voyage to Paris was in the professional safety of a commercial Zeppelin under the control of professional and highly skilled and experienced flight crews.

This voyage would be different. No, it would not be an adventure of his choosing. He returned to take his seat again, and sipping his drink, continued.

“But Josias, both you and I know that when we have dreams, which for reasons beyond our understanding, are not fulfilled, we suffer deeply. I missed out on fulfilling a dream with Ruth. You missed out on fulfilling your dream with Abigail.

“Though those are reasons for sorrow and regret, both of us have had a second chance. I have been able to do with Anna what I was not able to do with Ruth. You have the same chance with Ann.

“The two of you are more technically knowledgeable in the field of airships than I am. I’m just a power man, you know. But I have learned enough in the last two years to not feel any apprehension over the ability of your ship to fly.

“Assuming Mr. Flanigan comes in with approval, and judges the craft to be capable of extended flight, that is. As to the fear of unforeseen dangers, we either let those throttle our dreams, or we don’t.

“We must, since you’re determined on a course, do everything within our ability, to see that your voyage succeeds. Of course, and to ensure this firm stays on track while you’re gone.”

Harris stood again, and walking behind his chair, and the look on his face spoke deep thought. Josias saw and questioned. “What are you thinking, Wimberly?” he asked.

Harris had been in thought. What about communications during the voyage? “Have you given thought to staying in touch with the rest of the world during the voyage?” he asked.

“Aye. I have,” Josias answered. “The subject was brought up by Flanigan. And it was discussed way back. You know when, Martin.”

And Martin did know, for the subject was brought up during that time when the voyage was planned with Abigail.

Josias continued. “We do need wireless communication. The Zeppelins do have rather powerful wireless aboard. The sets use very long aerials which sometimes are left to hang down below the airship while aloft.

“It’s not always a sure thing, being able to reach shore by wireless. Most of the time they do enjoy good communication with wireless stations ashore. They use the sets for scheduling, announcing their own positioning to the companies ashore. And of course, for emergencies.”

“Do you know anything about how those things work?” Harris asked.

“A little,” Josias replied. “I enjoyed playing around with wireless as an amateur when I was a boy. I have a reasonable understanding of how they work, and how to use them. My knowledge is dull now, but a little study on my part would bring it all back. Plus bring my knowledge current to the technology of today.”

“So you intend to put one of these wireless sets on Abigail?” Harris asked.

“Of course. And learn how to use it. Certainly, another station would be needed here. You know, to have a place to communicate with.”

“You don’t mean here at the factory, do you?” Martin queried, a thought developing in his head. “What did we speak of on that matter, those years ago? Remember?”

“Do you have a better place in mind?” Josias asked, remembering a similar conversation some years earlier.

“Well,” and then the jovial came out. “Absolutely. I have it. I do. The perfect place.” That ended in the familiar chuckle. Then he added, “do you forget what we talked about those few years ago?”

“Well how now, Vandergriff. I think I know where you are going with this.” Josias himself, broke into a laugh. “I know your affinity for gadgets and things mechanical. You want the thing at your place. Am I correct? And I remember now, but I had forgotten. About then. Before.”

“Why not? What better place with all of the open land? Where would you put up good aerials here at the factory? Do you think with all of this steel and other metal and the noise of machinery, that it would work as well here?

“Now, not to surprise you, but I know a little about the wireless as well.” This was addressed to Harris. “Josias is not the only one to have played with one. I built my own when I was, say, seventeen? Something like that.”

“Does that answer your question, Wimberly?” Josias asked, turning again to Harris.

Harris nodded. “That would be a wise plan. Good. But, another question. What do you know about wireless, Martin? I believe the wireless aboard ships and airships send and receive only Morse telegraphy code. Is that correct?”

“Aye. It is true,” Martin answered. “There is another thing you do not know about me. Why, I never had occasion to tell you, you know. In my time in the Navy. Of course that was a long time ago. I was a telegraph operator. I was good at it too, if I must say so. I may be a trifle rusty at it now, but I can manage.”

“I never knew that,” Harris exclaimed, more impressed with his friend. “You’re correct. You never told me. My son Bryan knows a little of it too. ‘Tis just one of the many things he has begun to teach himself.”

“The boy is amazing,” Martin replied. “I’ll vouch for that, Harris.”

“Thank you, gentlemen, for understanding,” Josias interrupted. “Wireless for communications will be part of the planning for the voyage.”

“What does the lady Ann think about such a voyage?” Martin asked, moving to a new subject. “I remember that it took some time for her to become comfortable with even the idea of the ship. Too much of Abigail in the ship, it seemed. I can understand that. She is sort of ‘the other woman.’ The ship, that is.”

“It did,” Josias replied. “It was hard for her for a while. I struggled greatly trying to find a way to distance the ship and the memories from Abigail. I even suggested I would be willing to change the name of the ship. No. She did not want me to do that. In fact, she insisted that I put that out of my mind.

“Once the ship was completed, and Ann was able to completely redo the whole living area inside, she made it her own. So she became possessive of it as it was now her own. That’s what I had hoped for in the first place.”

“What did she think of the idea of the voyage you’re planning?” Martin asked. “I presume that you’ve not kept her ignorant of your plans. Right?”

“Of course she knows, Martin. I believe you know me better than that. I shared my dreams with her early on into our relationship. I told you already. She and I have spent a lot of pillow talk time discussing this thing and the plans for the voyage.”

“Aye. So you did.” Martin now remembered.

Josias thought for a minute and then continued. “You know one thing I learned about married life? That is a good marriage relationship, I should say.”

“What is that?” This time it was Harris to ask.

“I’m sure it’s no news to you, Vandergriff,” Josias replied. “And by now not to you, Harris. But to me it was something to learn. Sixty-one years living by myself, and for myself alone, my dreams were mine alone.

“Along came Abigail. She had dreams of her own. I don’t think I had time enough to learn the lesson. Her dreams. My dreams. And our dreams. Although Abigail and I were together, we had not yet wed before her death. We had not the opportunity to make it about both of us.

“When I met Ann, for me, it was still all about my dreams. She brought her dreams into the relationship, but I had a great deal of difficulty including her dreams into what would become the ‘us.’

“She saw the voyage as something I wanted to do. I hoped she would come to see it as something both of us would want to do. Thankfully, she did, eventually.

“I’m not convinced that she is wholly as excited about it as I am. Abigail was more of the adventurous sort. Ann, not as much. But Ann is not completely the homebody sort.

“She does enjoy the idea of travel. I believe that once we embark on this voyage, she will enjoy it. I really believe she will. I do hope she and I can share in each other’s dreams and that together, we can create and live our own together.”

“What are her dreams?” Martin asked. He knew that this was an important question. He had witnessed marriages beginning, and a strong-willed new husband making the new life of the husband and wife all about his dreams. Hoping of course, that the wife would enter into those dreams, and make them hers, or theirs as well.

But what about dreams which she may have come into the marriage with? He had seen in more than one couple, the wives put aside any dreams of their own, for those did not match the husband’s ideal.

Josias Lancaster was one such man. A strong man, strong of character, and of will. He could be such a man who put his dreams before any that his wife may have held. Now Josias was admitting that such a struggle lived within his being.

But, that admission, and it came as a relief to Martin, was cause to believe that Josias would always do the right thing by his wife, and that in his eyes she would be his partner. She would not be his subordinate within the marriage.

For a space of time, Josias looked at the man who had asked the question. “Honestly, Martin,” he finally answered. “I’m not sure I know completely. That’s why I spoke as I did a few minutes ago. I have to know and I have to hear it from her. I assure you, I will.”

With a sigh, he asked, “do either of you gentlemen see any reason I should not follow through with plans to embark on this voyage? Once any remaining technical questions are answered, that is.

“I do want to talk to Gilbert Flanigan. I want him to look over the craft. If he approves, and if he believes he can fly it properly, then to offer him the position of captain of the ship. With him being the chief pilot, I’d prefer to let him pick his own crew members.”

Looking at the two men in the room with him, he added. “Unless either of you two want to lend you hand as crew members.”

“I believe I’m already engaged for that time period,” Harris replied. “That’s unfortunate. I do have a full calendar, you know.” That was stated entirely tongue-in-cheek.

“Same here,” Martin said.

“Good,” Josias replied. “Neither of you would make a good deck hand anyhow.”

“What of finances and money exchange?” Harris asked. “Do you expect your American dollars to be received in Paris? What about other places you may find yourself on your voyage?”

“Ah of course,” Josias answered. “American dollars will do well in Paris, although I expect to change to the French currency while we are there. I also will have a sum of gold with me. In case of need, you know.”

“And now, gentlemen,” Martin said, sensing that the informal meeting was drawing nigh to concluding. “Let us ask God’s favor on the enterprise and for whatever path He leads you on to be blessed and under His protection.

“Remember, Josias, God has placed His favor on you and that favor has been the reason you are where you are today. You know that.”

Indeed Josias did know that. He had been too much a man under his own control, or so he had judged himself to be in his past. Thanks to the spiritual guidance he had received from Martin during his low times, even times of despair and lack of purpose, he had come to consider more, his need to yield to God the place in his life which had been lacking for too many years.

With the three men standing, Martin offered a prayer for Divine wisdom and guidance to lead Josias on whatever path God would choose for him in the coming weeks and months. And for a safe voyage on the airship Abigail.

Chapter 2 - A Voyage in The Planning

Without counsel purposes are disappointed: but in the multitude of counsellors they are established.
(Proverbs 15:22)

But the Lord sent out a great wind into the sea, and there was a mighty
tempest in the sea, so that the ship was like to be broken.
(Jonah 1:4))