The Kong Meng Legacy

‘Cover-up’ deepens Mahogany Ship mystery

Stephen Cauchi, The Age, September 20, 2005

It’s a mystery that will not go away. Was a Chinese or Portuguese boat shipwrecked on the Warrnambool coast before British settlement in 1788 and, if so, where are its remains?

The latest ‘Mahogany Ship’ theory is that the British came across the wreck of a Portuguese ship after Australia was settled and then dismantled the wreck to prevent an Australian land claim by the King of Portugal.

Amateur historian and Canberra mathematician, Frank Coningham, stumbled across a document in the National Library in Canberra indicating the British government had paid men to bury the ship.

The parliamentary papers, dating from 1849, could no longer be found in the National Library, Dr Coningham said. Anyone wanting to look at them might have to travel to Britain.

He found the document in the 1980s while researching a book on Australian independence from Britain.

Not many people knew of his discovery, although the news had spread over the years. He said the document, British Parliamentary Papers - Colony of Australia, was published by the Irish Free Press about 1849.

Dr Coningham said the chairman of the Mahogany Ship Committee, Pat Connelly, had found out about his research through word of mouth.

Archaeological digs along the Warrnambool coast are planned.

Part 1

Before

1

The Hamlet of Knockbrack, County Clare, Ireland

Winter, 1840-41

Selina shifted in her seat to move Se`amus’ weight from one knee to the other. Despite the hunger they were all learning to live with, he was getting to be a big boy. Soon he would be too big to sit on her lap, thought Selina ruefully, giving him a fond kiss on the top of his head. She continued to read aloud to Se`amus and the other three little ones.

They were gathered around the meagre fire. To save fuel, Selina and her stepmother, who Selina fondly called Aunt Ma`ire, had put off lighting the fire for as long as they could. However, the last throes of this cursed winter were viciously cold. Eventually they had succumbed to lighting a fire with some of their precious fuel stocks. As the thin warmth of the fire lulled her to sleep, Selina reflected sardonically that Spring had better arrive soon, or they may all freeze to death before they starved.

The sound of the book dropping from her hand to the floor roused Selina. She looked about her in a daze. A movement to her left caught her eye. Looking up, she gasped and then she laughed softly in relief. She thought she had seen her mother, but realised it was her own image she was seeing reflected in the windowpane.

Selina’s mother, Margaret, had been famous throughout County Clare for her beauty. Selina was now twelve. Those in the village who had known her mother were constantly remarking how closely Selina resembled Margaret.

Like her mother, Selina’s skin was a pale, milky white, unblemished by freckles. Her hair was an unusual colour - not blonde, not red, and not auburn. Rose gold was probably the best description. In the sun, strands of Selina’s hair seemed to capture the light and refract it back in pure streaks of gold. Her eyes were not her mother’s. Her eyes she had inherited from her father. They were a brilliant green colour - like the emerald coloured hills that ranged behind the village and out to the Cliffs of Mohr.

Selina let her gaze wander away from her own reflection to that of her four little half siblings, all of whom were sleeping. She eased the weight of Se`amus from her lap and onto the couch and stepped across the little lounge room into the bedroom that she shared with the four children.

She shivered as she left the comparative warmth of the lounge room. The little hallway that connected the four rooms of the tiny farmhouse was freezing. The hallway ran up from the kitchen, which featured the only entrance to the house. On one side of the hallway was the lounge and on the other were two small bedrooms. Selina paused to peak into the door of her father and Aunt Ma`ire’s bedroom. Her father, thank God, seemed to be sleeping. Aunt Ma`ire was slouched on the chair next to her father’s side of the bed. Despite the cold, she seemed to have fallen asleep. Selina gently went and shook Aunt Ma`ire awake and helped her into her side of the bed.

Until a month ago it would have been unthinkable for Selina to step into this room. At the beginning of her life it was the domain of her parents. Then, soon after, it became the realm of her father and her stepmother; but since her father had collapsed at the start of last summer, Selina had grown all too familiar with the interior of this room. Over the last five months she had spent many a ‘watch’ by her father’s bed, trying to coax him to eat or drink. Listening to him alternately cry and talk gibberish.

Only occasionally would his confusion clear. He had moments of lucidity where he seemed to recognise Selina, although, most often, he confused her for her mother. Then he would become agitated and say, ‘Oh, I think its best we leave it, Margaret. I’ll be the ruin of you. I’ll be the ruin.’

Selina knew that her mother had caused an absolute scandal when she had married her father, a worker on her parents’ land. Marget’s family had disowned her completely. Although Selina often saw her mother’s relatives about the village, they never spoke to her.

Some of Margaret’s possessions were kept in a glory box for Selina to have when she married. Those things had no place in the farmhouse. They were so fine and fragile that Selina rarely dared to touch them. It seemed a sort of sacrilege to desecrate them with her hands, which were always chapped and dirty from helping on the farm.

The fragility and beauty of the objects in the glory box recalled Selina’s mother to her. Like the fine lace and the delicate jewels, Margaret had never really seemed to belong to the house and the farm. Whenever Selina remembered her mother, she remembered a soft feeling of amazement.

Her mother had always seemed to shine in the tiny, dark farmhouse. Her pale skin, blue eyes and beautiful, gossamer hair catching any light that was about, reflecting it back a thousandfold.

Despite being disowned by Margaret’s family, Selina and her parents had a happy life. They had a little farm not far from the village. Selina could remember many happy evenings being taught to read and write French and English by her mother. Together, her parents had taught her to dance and sing, both in the English style and the folk songs and dances that were popular at the many ceilidhs held in the village.

Selina’s days were spent following her father around the farm. Selina could only vaguely remember the awful day when she was six that her mother had gotten sick. They had been working together in the kitchen garden singing and talking about the baby brother or sister that Selina would soon meet when Margaret suddenly sat down.

Selina could remember being frightened by the colour of her mother. Margaret wasn’t glowing as she usually did. She had turned an awful pale, grey colour.

‘Selina, be a brave girl,’ Margaret had said. ‘Run, get your da. Be quick now. It’s important.’

Selina’s father had started running back to the farmhouse before Selina delivered the message. Some prescience had informed him of the gravity of Selina’s mission when he had spied her running towards him.

Selina remembered him sweeping her up under his arm as he passed. There was something visceral in his panic that had infected Selina. She had been hysterical by the time they’d gotten back to the farmhouse. By that time, Margaret was semi-conscious and her skirts were soaked with blood.

The days and months that followed Margaret’s death seemed a confused blur whenever Selina recalled them. There were a lot of people in the house. Her da, who until then had been full of songs and stories, was very quiet. Selina spent a lot of time sitting on his knee or walking in the fields holding his hand whilst he said … nothing.

It was a relief when Aunt Ma`ire arrived. She was a distant cousin of the people on the next farm, the Mac Cosgairs. Selina had liked her immediately. Aunt Ma`ire wasn’t as beautiful as her mother, but she knew how to brush hair, sew dresses, grow flowers and cook food. She also knew how to make Selina’s da sing. It wasn’t long until Selina’s father married Aunt Ma`ire and Selina had two little brothers and two sisters in quick succession. From the few novels Selina had access to, she gleaned that it was expected that she and Aunt Ma`ire wouldn’t get along, but that simply wasn’t the case.

Selina knew Aunt Ma`ire made her father happy and she had always been kind to Selina. In a way, Aunt Ma`ire and Selina were like sisters to each other. Se`amus, Malachi, Nulla and U`na were dear little children whom Selina loved fiercely.

If only her da would get better. It was nearly half a year now since he had collapsed. They’d been able to complete the harvest by hiring in help from other farms, but the wages of the help had cut heavily into the income from the harvest.

Selina and Aunt Ma`ire had been economising all winter, but the doctor’s bills had eaten into their savings. They would not have much left to pay anyone to sow the crops this spring if da wasn’t better, and Selina very much doubted he would be.

The Mac Cosgairs had been a great help. Mr Mac Cosgair had refused to take any money for the work he’d done on the harvest. Mrs Mac Cosgair never dropped by on a Sunday without some welcome gift of food: some butter, some bread, a bushel of nettles and, one blessed Sunday, half a chicken! Selina sighed. She wondered if the people who moved to the farm after the Mac Cosgairs left for Australia would be as kind.

If anything good had come of da’s decline, thought Selina, it was the revelation of the kindness of their neighbours. It wasn’t just the Mac Cosgairs who had been kind. There were also people like Fergal Loingsigh.

Fergal was from a big family on the other side of the village. He had sat behind Selina in the village school. He had also refused to take any money for helping with the harvest. Moreover, throughout the winter he had walked several miles from his farm to theirs to chop wood, often proffering a few items of food from his farm; usually a few potatoes; sometimes some mint or some peas. Aunt Ma`ire always asked him to stay for tea and he never refused. Selina at first had felt confused and embarrassed by his presence.

The first meal Fergul had shared with them Selina had made a fool of herself by knocking over a jug of water. Now, however, Selina looked forward to seeing Fergal’s large frame fill the doorway. She often found at quiet moments in the evening her mind would turn to thinking about things that Fergal had said or done.

The way he laughed at how Se`amus answered one of his questions, or the way the muscle in the front part of his arm moved when he was stacking the firewood. Selina smiled fondly to herself and wondered at the feeling of warmth that washed over her as she thought about Fergal. She finished putting the children to bed and climbed in beside little U`na, hugging her to herself for warmth.

2

Hamlet of Knockbrack, County Clare, Ireland

Summer, 1841

Selina paused outside the farmhouse. Despite the sadness of the past few months, she felt truly happy at this moment. She wanted to savour it before she went back into the house that was steeped in their sadness and the uncertainty of their future.

It was a warm summer’s evening. Selina had been to her first ceilidh unchaperoned. Of course there were plenty of adults in the village who were keeping an eye on her. But she was twelve and at a ceilidh without a parent. It made her feel very grown up. She had a wonderful time. The band had played tirelessly. Selina had been nervous about the prospect of dances that required set partners. Before her father’s illness, he had always either danced with her or arranged for someone else to ask her.

However, Fergal Loingsigh had always appeared to ask her to dance. Fergal had also walked back to the farm with her and the Mac Cosgairs even though it was well out of his way.

The ceilidh was to bid farewell to the Mac Cosgairs who were going ahead with their plan to move to Australia. Opinion was divided about whether they were mad, brave or lucky.

Selina herself was unsure. She felt frightened by the idea of going somewhere that was peopled almost entirely by criminals. However, Mr Mac Cosgair said that there were few criminals in Melbourne. He said it was a colony settled by free men and that it was possible to get one’s own land there. Selina couldn’t imagine having land! Imagine not having the endless worry of whether they’d scrape together the rent for the people at The Big House. She sighed as the happiness of the dance started to ebb and was replaced by the troubles of her reality.

After a long illness, her father finally passed away at the beginning of spring. Although devastated to lose him, Selina felt mainly relief. By the end of winter he had wasted away to a husk of what he had been. After his collapse, he’d never really regained his faculties. It had been a terrible strain on her and Aunt Ma`ire nursing him, as well as looking after the four children. Her father’s death had not lessened the strain.

The doctor’s bills had cost them almost all of their savings. They had not been able to plant anything for this year’s harvest. Against Selina’s wishes, Aunt Ma`ire had appealed to her mother’s family at The Big House. They had been ‘not at home’ to Aunt Ma`ire, which made her furious; but Selina was not surprised. If the birth of her, their first grandchild, or the death of her mother, their only daughter, had not lessened their resolve, why should the penury Selina now found herself in change it?

Anyway, it didn’t matter, Selina told herself again firmly. Even if her mother’s family had wanted to take her in, she wouldn’t have left Aunt Ma`ire and the little ones to their predicament.

Aunt Ma`ire had written to one of her brothers who had settled in another part of Ireland. With Se`amus almost big enough to help on the farm and another boy growing quickly, they would hardly be a complete charity case. However, as yet they had not heard back from him.

Selina sighed and took another look about her. At this time of mid summer it never got fully dark. Selina could easily make out the soft contours of the farm that had framed her whole life. Beyond the farm, the spire of the church cast its shadow over where her dear father now lay. Selina wondered what would become of them as she pushed open the door and fell tiredly into bed next to U`na.

Selina woke in the morning feeling somewhat disorientated. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. From the amount of light streaming into the room Selina could tell she had slept later than she usually did. Her feet ached and she couldn’t think why. Was she ill? She wondered as she struggled into consciousness. Then she remembered the ceilidh last night.

All those hours of dancing and smiling! The long walk back with the Mac Cosgairs, Fergal and the other neighbours, singing and laughing all the way. She smiled at the memory and threw back the covers. It was kind of Aunt Ma`ire to let her sleep so long, but Selina had chores to do. It wasn’t fair to leave everything to Aunt Ma`ire. Selina washed her face at the chipped washstand in the corner of the room. She walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on the hob, smiling at the simple breakfast Aunt Ma`ire had laid out for her.

By the time the raucous notes of the children’s voices could be heard coming towards the farm house, Selina had breakfasted and was making a start on some bread to take across to the Mac Cosgairs with whom they were sharing a final roast that evening.

It felt unbelievable to be having roast meat on a Monday. The Mac Cosgair’s had killed their cow, finding it would be too expensive to take it with them. They were sharing the meat with their friends and neighbours as a leaving gift.

‘Lina!’ cried the children as they tumbled rowdily into the house and into her arms, gleefully exchanging kisses and allowing her to ruffle their hair.

‘Right-o then, you lot of mad Russians!’ admonished Aunt Ma`ire. ‘You leave your big sister alone! She’ll be tired after her night at the dance. Get outside w’ you and play in the yard.’

Se`amus, Malachi and Nulla needed no further encouragement. They raced out of the door with whoops and yells; but U`na had crawled up onto Selina’s lap and stared defiantly at her mother stating, ‘I’s ‘elping.’

After an uncharacteristic moment of indecision, Aunt Ma`ire picked up U`na and said, ‘No, love, you can’t help us now. You go and play. Selina and I have work to do.’ She gently but sternly propelled U`na out the door, calling to Se`amus to come and take charge of U`na as she started screaming.

‘Is everything alright, Aunt Ma`ire?’ asked Selina. It was unusual for Aunt Ma`ire not to let U`na have her own way.

Aunt Ma`ire sat down next to Selina and drew something out of her pocket. ‘We’ve been into town; a letter arrived from my brother.’

‘Oh?’ said Selina, sensing bad news and feeling a rush of panic. Selina forced herself to remain composed. Aunt Ma`ire already had four small children to look after; she didn’t need Selina to become a fifth.

‘So, they can’t take us then?’ asked Selina, trying to sound matter of fact.

Aunt Ma`ire started to cry and put her head in her hands. ‘Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ She sobbed. Selina became really alarmed. She slipped her arm over her aunt’s shoulders. ‘It’s alright Aunt Ma`ire. We’ll be alright. Surely be to God we will be.’

‘Oh Selina, I don’t know what to do,’ groaned her Aunt Ma`ire through her tears. ‘If only he could meet you, he’d feel differently. Oh, if only. You are my family. Oh, oh, oh …’ and again Aunt Ma`ire was sobbing.

Selina felt confused, but also a bit panicky. What was Aunt Ma`ire talking about? She got up, lit the fire and hung the kettle over it, saying as calmly as she could, ‘Come now, Aunt Ma`ire. What’s happened? I know I am your family. You are mine, too,’ and again moved close to her, giving her stepmother a comforting squeeze.

Aunt Ma`ire sat up and pulled the letter from her apron pocket and thrust it towards Selina, crying, ‘I know that and you know that - but he doesn’t! Oh, what are we to do?’

Selina shushed her Aunt Ma`ire and rubbed her back as she would U`na’s or Nulla’s. She unfolded the letter and read it with some trepidation. She quickly skimmed through the first few paragraphs, which were news regarding the family and condolences for the loss of Aunt Ma`ire’s husband, Selina’s father.

Then Selina saw what had made Aunt Ma`ire so upset. Selina felt that her heart had stopped beating.

She forced herself to slowly re-read the letter again.

Aunt Ma`ire’s brother said that it would be a stretch, but that they would never turn family away. He said that they would take Aunt Ma`ire and the children in. However, he and his wife simply could not afford to take in Selina as well. He wrote that Selina was twelve and almost grown up. He suggested she try looking for work as a maid in a big house in one of the counties, or even in England.

Selina read the letter a few times and turned the idea of being a maid over in her head. She didn’t think she’d mind being a maid. However, the idea of being separated from her family made her mouth go dry.

Aunt Ma`ire and the children were her family. She’d never questioned it. It made her feel queer and lonely to think that they weren’t; but she supposed that from an outsider’s perspective Aunt Ma`ire’s brother was right. Selina was not blood to Aunt Ma`ire and she had no right to stand in the way of Aunt Ma`ire and the children’s future.

As bravely as she could, Selina said, ‘Aunt Ma`ire, Aunt Ma`ire. Listen to me. It’s not as bad as all that. You and the children go. I’ll do as your brother suggests and look for work. Maybe I could find work close to your brother’s farm? Then I could still see you and the children …’

Selina quickly finished speaking as her voice was faltering. The thought of being separated from the family, of being alone in the world, the realisation that she was in actual fact an orphan, it was too awful.

‘No,’ said Aunt Ma`ire, firmly, ‘there must be another way. D’you think I could look your da in the face when I see him in the next life, knowing I’d abandoned you, Selina? You’ve always been such a good girl, loving me and helping with the children; and you’re such a clever lass, you with your books and your English and French. Fancy condemning you to the life of a maid! I’ll just have to make my brother see you are my family and he’ll have to take you in.’

‘But,’ said Selina, sitting down again and taking her aunt’s hand in hers, ‘If they can’t, they can’t.

‘What could we do if even the most desperate person arrived on our door step at this moment? We couldn’t help them! We can hardly help ourselves! It may be all your brother can offer. The children and you shouldn’t miss out because of me.’

‘There must be another way, Selina. There must,’ said her aunt, firmly. ‘Come. We’ll say no more about it today. I’ll help you make the bread and we’ll eat with the Mac Cosgairs tonight.’

Selina and Aunt Ma`ire fell into a companionable silence as they kneaded the dough, the sounds of the children playing wafted in through the window. Selina wondered to herself what tomorrow would bring. She wondered how many more days she had to listen to the chatter of her dear little half siblings.

3

On board the Sarah Sands. The Open Seas

Latitude 9.30, Longitude 23.17 W

Two weeks’ sailing from Plymouth, England

en route to the Colony of Melbourne, Victoria, 1841

Selina stood up, placed her hands in the small of her back and tilted her head and spine backwards. She was trying to relieve the stiffness caused by the seemingly endless crouching over the clothes.

It was Thursday; the third since they’d left Plymouth. Thursday meant washday. It amazed Selina how quickly she had become accustomed to the patterns of ship life. If six weeks ago someone had told her she would be on a ship, bound for Australia, she would have referred them to the parish priest.

Selina had only one change of clothes. The first week she had volunteered to do the washing for the Mac Cosgair family. Since then she had taken responsibility for their washing. Mrs Mac Cosgair, along with most passengers, seemed to have adjusted to the motion of the boat and their seasickness had subsided. However, many little ones were suffering terribly, the smallest especially.

Not since they’d passed the Beachy Heads had the Mac Cosgair’s youngest, Tom`as, been able to keep anything of substance down. Selina could tell that even the ship’s cheerful surgeon, Dr Walsh, was starting to worry about Tommy’s chances.

Mrs Mac Cosgair spent most of her time nursing Tommy and coaxing small drops of water into his mouth. Mr Mac Cosgair spent his time comforting Honora and Pa`draig, if they were seasick. If they were not, he tried to entertain them to alleviate the oppressive boredom that plagued the whole ship, but was particularly hard on the children.

Initially, the monotony of being at sea had been relieved by the sighting of whales, flying fish and dolphins; but now, having become accustomed to these sights, the advent of such visitors failed to draw even so much as a comment from the passengers. They all wallowed listlessly under the weight of the oppressive heat and boredom.

Mrs Mac Cosgair had been so grateful to Selina when she had offered to do the family’s washing. She had spent the following week talking about what a good girl Selina was to any one who would listen. Selina was beginning to feel quite embarrassed. The truth was Selina very much enjoyed doing the washing. Even though her back ached from bending over the buckets and scrubbing the clothes as best she could, it was a wonderful opportunity to cool herself down.

Although they were only three weeks’ sailing from Ireland, the weather was hot; hotter than Selina had ever imagined it could be. None of her clothes were designed for weather like this. She would have been quite comfortable in just her shift, but, of course, propriety prevented her from removing her dress and only wearing her shift. Generally Selina tried to alleviate her discomfort by finding a place on the top deck in the shade where sometimes the spray and the sea breeze would cool her down.

However, on Thursdays, all the women on deck who were washing removed their heavy dresses and no one seemed to mind. Being dressed more lightly and having an excuse to douse herself with the water hauled up on deck by the sailors more than compensated for washing the Mac Cosgairs’ clothes.

Of course, it didn’t seem to matter how hard Selina scrubbed, none of the clothes felt really clean. Selina had thought it an extravagance when she had heard that clothes were to be washed once a week. However, after the first day in steerage, the impetus for frequent washing became abundantly clear to Selina. Within the first hour after they had set sail she was surrounded by the smell of sweat and vomit. The sand on the floor of the steerage quarters failed to really soak up these substances and did nothing to mask the smell.

By the second day of the voyage, Selina was eagerly awaiting Thursday and the chance to rinse out her dress. Despite her best efforts, her dress had several streaks of vomit from the first two days of seasickness.

It was a relief to rinse the clothes of the awful stench that constantly pervaded below decks, but things washed in salt water tended to feel stiff. They scratched and itched one’s skin terribly. Selina was starting to long for the chance to wash her clothes in fresh water. This was something she had never previously considered a luxury. It was certainly not one of the items of home she had expected to pine for.

Not that she had had much time to expect anything. Everything had been such a hurdy gurdy rush. From the time at dinner when the Mac Cosgairs had offered to take Selina with them to Melbourne to only a few days later when their cart pulled out of the village. Fergal Loingsigh had chased behind it to give Selina a handkerchief that she kept carefully folded in the pages of her Bible. Selina tried not to think about Fergal, or her Aunt Ma`ire and the children too much. It always brought tears to her eyes. To think she may never see them again! Her life having taken her such a long, long way from where they were now no doubt settled on Aunt Ma`ire’s brother’s farm.

Selina again stood above her washing and stretched her back. She scanned the horizon. It never ceased to amaze her how big the world was. It was over two weeks since they had seen anything but water around the ship. Unconsciously, even the inexperienced sea goers, such as herself, had started to habitually scan the horizon for something; anything that wasn’t ocean.

It seemed today that there was something other than water out there. A dark spec loomed on the starboard side. Even as Selina blinked and shook her head in order to determine whether her eyes were playing tricks on her, a great commotion started amongst the sailors and the officers.

All the women on deck now paused from their washing. Mrs Mac Cosgair, poor little Tommy and all the passengers who had been below deck started to come up. Even the cabin passengers were to be seen on the upper deck pointing and gesticulating towards the dot on the horizon that was revealing itself as being another ship. As it drew closer, rumours started to fly amongst the sailors and the passengers.

‘It’s a French war ship - we’ll be blown out of the water!’

‘It’s a pirate ship; we’ll all have our throats cut!’

It seemed an interminable wait until the ship responded to the captain’s command to show its colours. When a Union Jack was unfurled, spontaneous elation erupted from all on board. Selina cheered heartily. She and Mrs Mac Cosgair hugged and kissed. Mrs Mac Cosgair held up little Tommy and Selina ruffled his hair.

The other ship drew along side the Sarah Sands. The respective captains communicated with each other using a curious long, cylindrical device. A nearby crewman told the fascinated passengers it was called a ‘speaking trumpet’.

News filtered down that it was the barque Grasshopper, returning to Britain after three years’ whaling in the southern oceans. Selina craned her neck to get a look at the crew of the Grasshopper. Three weeks at sea seemed like an absolute age. She couldn’t imagine what people would look like after being at sea for three years!

Before she could really get a good look at the Grasshopper’s crew, there was again a great hubbub aboard the Sarah Sands. Everyone seemed to be running frantically: the cabin passengers towards their cabins; those from steerage below decks. Selina grabbed a young man as he passed.

‘What’s happening?’ she enquired worriedly.

‘Letters, love!’ he uttered, breathlessly, ‘They’ll take mail for us!’ Selina had started running before he finished his sentence.

Mail! A chance so soon to send word to Aunt Ma`ire and the children; perhaps to Fergal as well? Why had she not thought of this? She should have been writing every day so that she would be prepared for this occasion; but then, she didn’t have enough paper for that.

In steerage those without paper were frantically tearing the title pages out of their Bibles or offering exorbitant amounts of money to passengers who had paper. Selina hurriedly exchanged a few coins for one of her precious sheets of paper. She didn’t even look at the coins; such was her haste to get her letter written. Those who couldn’t write were begging those around them to write a letter for them. However, those who could write, like Selina, were ignoring their pleas, so intent were they on completing their own missives.

Selina hurriedly scrawled a few lines telling Aunt Ma`ire that the first week had been difficult, but now she was used to the ship. She reassured her that the Mac Cosgairs were taking good care of her. She affirmed that she and Mrs Mac Cosgair were a great comfort to each other. Selina finished by asking Aunt Ma`ire to send her love to the children and, after a moment’s hesitation, she hastily asked for her regards to be sent to Fergal.

The call for letters was already being made. Selina folded the letter over. She calmed herself and carefully wrote the address Aunt Ma`ire had given her as clearly as she could on the opposite side of the paper. Selina then joined a throng of steerage passengers lined up waiting for their chance to pass their letters to the first officer. The first officer was placing the letters into the hessian bag that the captain of the Grasshopper had provided.

Selina could not stop her hand from shaking when she passed her letter over to the first officer. He glanced at the letter and gave her a surprised smile before he placed it into the bag and reached for the next letter.

Finally, the pleasantries were exchanged between captains, the mailbag was handed over and the ships separated; the Sarah Sands on towards the distant Port Melbourne and the whaling ship towards Britain, now carrying with it a cargo more precious than all the tea in China.

Selina watched until the Grasshopper disappeared from the horizon, a tear of homesickness streaking down her face. She said a fervent prayer that the letter would reach her Aunt Ma`ire and that, by some miracle, some day she would receive a reply. Then, she returned to the chore of her washing.

4

On board the Sarah Sands. Becalmed off the Cape of Good Hope

Latitude 37.35 South, Longitude: 15.17 East

Two months’ sailing from Plymoth, 1841

Selina listened enviously to the splashes and laughter coming from the water. The Sarah Sands had been becalmed for two days, without even a hint of a breeze to relieve the stifling heat. A few hours ago the captain had given permission for the sailors to swim if they so wished. Many of the men in steerage and even some of the cabin passengers joined in.

Many of the women on board couldn’t swim, so even the heat did not make the idea of entering the water palatable; but for Selina and for the others who could swim, it was torture not to be able to join the men in the water.

Selina turned from the passage of the Bible she was reading to smile at Mrs Mac Cosgair.

‘Again?’ she asked.

‘Would you dear, if you could?’ beseeched Mrs Mac Cosgair.

Selina was reading aloud to Mrs Mac Cosgair from the Bible. Matthew 18, verses 1 - 6. It was about children entering the kingdom of heaven. It seemed to provide comfort to Mrs Mac Cosgair. Selina had read the verse so