Dillard Beach Mystery – 41

July 1683

“Did you enjoy the island, Rebekah? You did not have a lot of time to explore, but I promise to take you back one day. It is a beautiful island.”

“That it is. Ezra certainly enjoyed his treasure hunt along the shoreline.”

Chapman moved closer and placed his hand on the rail near hers. Their hands did not touch but she felt his nearness keenly.

They did not speak but stood gazing at the wake from The MaryBell as the island slipped further into the distance. It was the Captain who finally broke the silence.
“There is one area of the island I should like to show you in particular. It is on the far western end and best reached by sailing around to the southern coast, then due west. It is a place the Wampanoag call Aquinnah. There you will see high cliffs of colored clay that stretch along the shoreline. The cliffs are especially beautiful at sunset when the ribbons of colored clay appear to glow every shade of red and gold you can imagine. I would like to show you the cliffs the next time we sail to the island.”

“Then you wish to return?” she asked. “Your business with Captain Rykman was a success?”

“In a manner of speaking. The agreement we reached is not one I expected. Rykman is involved in a great opportunity. He is developing one leg of a three-way trade route for trade with West Africa and England. He claims it the most lucrative business arrangement he has ever encountered.”

“What is it he is trading?” she asked.

Hesitant to answer, Chapman barely spoke the words aloud. “Slaves from Africa.”

Rebekah was stunned. “Do not tell me he encouraged you to join him?”

“That was the nub of our discussion.”

“And you agreed?” Rebekah was appalled at the prospect.

“I did not say yes, nor did I say no.” He paused before continuing. “I need to think on it.”

“What is there to think on? You would be trading human beings for profit.”

“I cannot dismiss the opportunity so easily as you, Rebekah. There is a great deal of money to be made.”

“Any benefit you receive from such an opportunity, as you call it, would come from the human misery of others. I should think there would be no thinking on the question. Your answer should be ‘no’!”

“You must not be so dismissive. I must think of my ships, my crew, and my business. Many depend on the profits we secure. I am doing well as of today, but the business of trade is a fickle mistress, Rebekah. What is needed today can be forgotten tomorrow. What is in demand as essential can easily be found to be useless in a year. I must be prepared to follow the shifting winds of commerce and tack when necessary. Staying on one course overlong can lead a ship into shallow waters and certain ruin.”

“If I follow your meaning, Captain, you believe trading in human cargo will keep you and your business safe?”

He looked at her, surprised at her attitude. “You do not approve.”

“That is certain, sir. Human cargo, no matter how profitable, is still human.”

“Rykman assures me the cargo he trades comes from very poor countries, and he is offering them the opportunity to travel for a better life.”

“And you believe him? Have you visited one of his ships? Have you seen this “so called” cargo he carries in the hold of those ships?”

“I have not, but he assures me the cargo is well cared for.”

Rebekah could hardly hold her tongue. “I have heard stories of “the cargo” you speak of, Captain. One of the women I lately delivered, has a husband who worked on such a ship out of Boston. He was so upset at the conditions on board, he quit on the spot.”

Chapman was about to protest when Rebekah held up her hand, cutting off the conversation. “Let me be clear. If you choose to be involved in this trade with Captain Rykman, you are dealing not with cargo, but with human beings, and I will have none to do with it or with you, sir, if you follow such a path.”

Chapman waited for his temper to quiet before speaking. “I believe your friend’s husband exaggerates. Captain Rykman seems a reasonable fellow and a Christian as well.”

“A Christian?” Rebekah asked. “Tell me, sir, what portion of the faith he follows makes it right and just for the Captain to trade men and women to the highest bidder?”

“You misunderstand the situation. This is strictly a business venture with great potential for making us both wealthy.”

“I cannot believe you are seriously considering such a venture!”

“I am.”

She turned away from the Captain and stared out at the following seas. Dusk was nearly upon them as she considered how best to respond. Finally, she turned to the Captain. “I have known you for several years and believed you to be a kind and compassionate man, sir. Patient and understanding both with me and with my son but I now discover I am deceived. Your attention now appears locked on making a profit at the expense of all else.”

“That is not true.”

“If you follow Captain Rykman, you will follow him on your own. I cannot be a part of such a venture.”

“Surely, you can see the value in what he proposes.”

“I see only ugliness and pain for both his “cargo” as you name it, and for the soul of the Captain. I believe him damned for what he does and you along with him.”

Chapman stepped back, shocked at the vehemence in her voice. There was little left for him to say and the two remained silent as The MaryBell made its way back to Hyannis.