Fairweather of the Bark Endeavour

Here on the balmy island of Tahiti, a stopover on our expedition of discovery, the ship moored for repairs. We found English dogs of the bloodhound variety. My comrades Chester and Lady were Mr Banks’ greyhounds and even though I was the ship’s cat, we had already decided to coexist on such a small ship. She was the Endeavour, filled with officers, scientists, military chaps and botanists, with the addition of my Captain Cook. We were commissioned to track the Transit of the planet Venus across the face of the sun from this very spot.

Chester the intrepid, made contact with Paroo on the beach. He was the head bloodhound of the Tahitian camp and spoke of their cats.

“Jolly good work Paroo!” I said excitedly. “I shall entertain any number of cats! They will come around to the Fairweather charisma!”

Paroo turned, paws and limbs losing their place as if each had a mind of its own. We passed a communal kitchen, where a large gathering of native women prepared pits for cooking and grinding fibrous plants. Behind a large rock, I noticed the ears of a smallish cat.

“Wait Paroo!” I hailed. The mutts ran up the rears of each other, the connection from brain to paws being somewhat slow.

“There Fairweather. The Chief cat’s name is Pie.” He indicated.

Paroo dribbled out my introduction in as boring a tone as I had ever heard, then turned on his bumbling paws taking the pack back to the village.

I stood before the cats, but none of them moved. I felt a little miffed. They knew I was coming. No ceremony! No singing! Nothing!

The large Chief stood and yawned.

“Do you have the white man liquor?” The Chief licked his lips. He went around the sleeping males and bit their ears to wake them.

“I am Fairweather! Of the Endeavour! Have you seen our ship in Matavai Bay?” I asked, thinking he might be impressed with my local knowledge of the harbour.

What about the liquor?” He grew impatient.

“Yes, we have it but for the Gentlemen and crew and of course the Captain.

Suddenly there was a giggle from behind me. I turned to see those ears! I had not imagined them!

It was a young female. She was of three colours. Only singularly had I seen them before. Black, orange and white; she was all of them. Her fur was long, unlike the other shorthaired cats. Her eyes were green and slanted in an almond-shaped. Slightly crossed as if to look at her own nose and she chirruped a strange little mew darting about.

“Kitchen is my daughter! You stay away from her!” The Chief warned. “She gathers scraps for us from the big Chief kitchen. She also Queen Obadia’s favourite cat. “Besides she is promised to Muto’I, our policeman.”

“Well, I must get back to my ship. My duties call.” I informed purposefully. I imagined that this island caused little for a cat’s occupation. Rats swarmed in every direction without interruption, and if Kitchen was fetching the pride’s meals from the Queen’s kitchen, they need not hunt or kill nothing!

In my musing, as I ambled back to camp, large cat stood in my way upon the path.

“Stop right there!” Said the rogue, blocking my way. “I am Muto’i and I been watching you.” He stuttered in dreadful English.

“Keep away from Kitchen. She belong to me soon.” He threatened.

No chocolate policeman was going to choose my friends. Just as this was determined, the Miss herself appeared.

“Look here old policeman, I am not in the market for a bride. Your Kitchen is perfectly safe! I am a seagoing feline, and I remain here only as long as my Captain decides.”

She chirped in. “No Muto’i! I am going to marry him! He a fine gentleman!”

The blood drained from my face and my mouth was as dry as sand.

“Here Kitchen!” I interrupted,” Muto’i is a fine chap I’m sure,”

“Yes!” Said Kitchen, “But Fairweather isn’t a brute like you, and would treat me with kindness.”

“Ha! Kitchen! I will show you brute!” Howled Muto’I, he lunged at me catching me unaware and knocking us both to the ground, a tangle of fur and paws!

“What was that for? Are you quite mad!” I hissed as the breath left my body.

He came at me again I had to defend myself! I shoved right back not about to take any tommyrot from some wretched native policeman!

A guttural growl came from his throat.

I had never been in a predicament like this before and was slightly confused. Muto’i lunged at me with claws outstretched and with as much force as he could muster! The sharp pin-like daggers sunk into my flesh and he gripped and would not let go. I had no choice but to return the onslaught. We rolled across the sandy path in a ball of blood cluttered fur. He bit into my neck, drawing blood immediately! It was ever so evident on my white parts and it burned like a searing hot knife! His rear claws came up to scratch into my stomach, the fleshy parts, and very sensitive.

My heartbeat was racing, and a super strength engulfed me! I bit his head right through to the bone! I felt my top and bottom teeth stop at his skull and jaw! He pulled away and we released each other.

He turned with a warning.

“You cannot beat me in a fight Fairweather, stay away from Kitchen or I kill you next time!” He arrogantly left.

It must have been only a few minutes before Kitchen reappeared.

“Are you alright Fairweather?” She licked at the wounds I could not reach. I was in shock.

“The surgeon will mend me. Now go!” I demanded. I was angry that she had gotten me into this, which brought me around somewhat.

My Captain’s cabin boy Isaac was the first to spot me.

“Fairweather!” he ceased his duties with the lads and came running. “What’s happened to you?” he lifted me up and by that time the other boys had joined him.

“Looks like the dogs got him!” said Will Howson, Isaac’s pal.

“This isn’t the work of dogs, boys! Cats, wild ones probably.” He announced.

“Lads!” Get the longboat. I’m sure Doctor Monkhouse is on the ship today!”

“We have to ask the Captain!” said Will dutifully as he did not want to land himself in trouble.

The Captain and Gents were all in attendance. Studying this and that.

“Captain sir!” John Charlton interrupted. “Fairweather has been attacked!” He was breathless but calm. “May we take the longboat to the ship to see Doctor Monkhouse about his wounds?”

The Captain looked into my eyes and realised my pain. My eyes were getting tired and I wished to sleep, such was the loss of my blood. The Captain noticed this straight away and advised. “Stay awake Fairweather!” Was all he said. “Boys! Get the longboat and see him to the Surgeon immediately. He will not live if you dilly-dally!”

Doctor Monkhouse was attending to his notes when the boys and I arrived in his doorway.

“Captain says to fix Fairweather’s wounds, please Doctor Monkhouse, sir! Can you do it right away? He looks to be dying! Begged Isaac.

The Surgeon took one look at me and prepared a surface for my pain-ridden body, clean and ready to work.

I remembered the Captain’s words. “Stay awake Fairweather!”

“I will assist you!” Said a familiar voice but by now I was unable to see clearly who it was.

“Boys wait outside!” Came the order. My cook, John Thompson! He must have seen the boys and I on the way to the Surgeon’s quarters.

“Me too!” Another friendly voice. Henry Jeffs, my Butcher!

They lay me out as if to dress a turkey for cooking!

Doctor Monkhouse poured clean water over my wounds to flush them of the blood-encrusted sand to reveal the damage.

A new height of pain was reached, and I howled desperately unable to move under my Cook and Butcher’s grip.

“Stay still, blasted cat! I’m tryin’ to fix you!” Barked the Surgeon.

John Thompson left the holding of my poor wretched body to Henry Jeffs, him being larger and his Butcher’s hands knowing exactly where to hold me so I could not move. Not even a whisker!

Doctor Monkhouse cleaned my wounds with a foul-smelling brown potion. It stung hellishly!!

“He’s got some deep scratches. We’ll stitch him, and well.” He was growing concerned.

But my mind could not be trusted at this point as I was having very strange thoughts, particularly of my mother and father, and that lovely sleep I wanted so badly. And a green glow in the night sky.

Doctor Monkhouse held a sharp razor to remove my fur for mending. “Once he is stitched together, we will just have to wait and see how he fares.”

Doctor Monkhouse, Henry and Thomas were ready. I felt the pain of the needle enter my body and the thread coursing through my bare skin!

Stitches and foul-smelling potions! My boys! My Captain! That blasted Kitchen and the evil Muto’i! Paroo and the Chiefs! All passed before my eyes! And all with the fluorescent green glow shining through the cabin window.

The urge to sleep was no longer something I could control. As the painful needle crisscrossed my wounds my eyes closed, and I fell into the deepest soundest sleep.

According to Doctor Monkhouse, it was a miracle that I woke up at all! When I did, the pain was still strong, but the bleeding had stopped, and my stomach looked like a laced boot. I was without fur in the regions of my wounds. Doctor Monkhouse had stitched me at his best. I was ever so grateful to be in the Captain’s Cabin on a pillow. My friend sleep came and went for days

I eventually woke to the soothing sounds of the water lapping at the ship and my Captain writing furiously in his journal on one evening.

“Fairweather! You are back with the living I see?” He enquired. I looked at him wearily and his gaze shone as if I was the world to him.

Chester and Lady were inside. They had not left my side while I recovered.

I came to my senses and asked after the chocolate policemen.

“Dead Fairweather.” Chuffed Chester.

“By whose hand?” I quizzed wearily.

“Why yours old chum. Your bite into his skull caused him to pass, and painfully. He was not lucky to have a surgical team like your comrades here on the ship.”

“Thank you one and all for my treatment comrades.”

All through the nights while I recovered with Kitchen by my side on the beautiful Tahitian beach. Every night came an odd phenomenon. The southern lights in greens of many tones falling like drapes fluttering in a breeze and glowing iridescently, wisping and waning.

“I say chums, what is this green curtain in the sky? Is it real? Magic perhaps?”

“Mister Banks mentioned it to the Captain this very night. It is known as the ‘Aurora Australis’, or the ‘Southern Lights’ and promises good passage for sailors.” He explained.

“Then bring them on as we’re going to need plenty of luck.” The Captain opened secret orders he had carried all this way, from the scientists in London. “We are to make sail to discover Australia. We’re not going home yet men.”

Mixed reactions mumbled, and they did for weeks to come while the Endeavour was restored to new, no barnacles or green slime stuck to her bottom and she was freshly painted. Our keen Captain had us quickly on our new mission. The endless beauty of the Southern lights stayed with us for weeks as the men readied the ship, and we bade our farewells, promising to return someday. For now, we were back at sea.