Mutiny

Captain Metzger heard of the H.M.S Bounty. He heard how a crew turned on Lieutenant Bligh in 1787, and he heard how, by all odds, when the Lieutenant was set adrift in a leaky skiff, the officer and a few followers made a three-thousand-mile voyage to the East Indies with the loss of only one life. The Lieutenant had made the most incredible voyage to the corner of civilization to save what was left of his loyal crew, and he read in the papers how Bligh was exonerated and promoted to captain. The man was practically a celebrity, and Metzger looked forward to meeting him.

On the deck of his frigate Pandora, Metzger was about to get his wish. The British Admiralty wanted the traitors found, and Bligh was ordered to accompany Captain Metzger on the hunt to the Pacific, and if need be, to the ends of the globe to find them. Up the roped stairs the newly-minted captain marched, eyes forward, and fist on the hilt of an elegant sword. The tiny captain was followed by two seamen carting trunks of gear, and he saluted the flag, then the captain of the vessel.

"Your reputation precedes you, Captain Bligh," Metzger was genuine until he spotted something he didn't like: the dark eyes of the little officer squinted, and he lifted his chin suppressing anger as mere ignorance, and a salute was exchanged.

"Thank you, captain - as you know I've been ordered to accompany you to find the mutineers to the last man. Tell me, Captain Metzger, have you ever dealt with mutineers?" The little visitor was all business.

"We will have plenty of time to study the likes of them in the Pacific. But, no Captain Bligh, my men have never betrayed their country or captain."

"Count yourself blessed sir, for tonight I will tell you a tale of patience and suffering. Where shall my quarters be?" The men caught up to him toting heavy trunks and looked down. Indeed, none said a word.

"The captain's cabin has been made available to you, half for you, half for me. I will add your men to the roster. Just through those doors and..."

"I believe I know my way around a frigate captain, thank you for your hospitality. He started marching off and stopped looking back. Have you read the news today, Captain Metzger?" The little captain pointed to a far-off yardarm. The highest mast across the shipyard was a man-of-war, the dream vessel of all British captains to command. At the very top swung two men at the end of a rope. Dead men. "You see Captain, two of the sailors that were on the skiff with me were found to be traitors after all."

The look of surprise was evident on Metzger. In a second, he questioned all of it in his mind. Was Bligh rightfully exonerated by the court? How could they be traitors when they chose to leave with you rather than stay on the ship? Why hang the men whose loyalty was proved? He decided to say nothing and returned simply, "Good. I am sure they hang for good reason." That elicited a smile from Captain Bligh, and he marched through the doors.

"Mister Christian! The sailing master was aside Metzger in an instant. "Let's get underway."

The officers gathered for dinner in their best dress as was customary. It was the beginning of a long voyage, and there was a celebrity on board. The wine was brought out for the small company, and the enlisted men on the other side of the ship were downing grog - watered down beer, and a special meal of pork, fresh apples and cake. They could be heard in jolly song even across the solid oak ship. The long, white table was set with the captain's silver, and the servants stood back while small talk ensued. The candles were lit, and a head of pork with an apple stuffed in its mouth was placed in the center. "Attention on deck!" The young men stood when the captains entered, and all of them eyed Captain Bligh.

"Have a seat gentleman," Metzger said. He motioned at the opposite end of the table, so he and Bligh occupied both ends - a true courtesy reserved for visiting dignitaries. Upon sitting, the captain gave introductions starting with Captain Bligh. He went around the dozen officers until he came to the sailing master, "and here is my right hand-man, Mr. Christian." Bligh, who didn't seem to care for any other name in the room, sat up stiff like a wasp had stung him in the back. His eye pierced through Christian at the far end of the table. Metzger noticed.

"Mr. Christian...Bligh said slowly with disdain. The energy of the whole room changed from positivity to eerie calm.

"Yes." The sailing master deliberately did not follow his answer with the costmary 'sir.' The junior officers gasped.

"Captain Metzger, do you usually allow men of inferior rank to dispense with formalities in the presence of a sitting dignitary?" Bligh was right, but Metzger also knew what was happening.

"Captain Bligh is correct gentlemen, our sailing master Mr. Christian is beside himself." He looked to his right, and the young man's eyes were fuming. This was a perfect time to clear the air. "Perhaps Mr. Christain would care to explain himself."

The floor was given to the sailing master, and Bligh was utterly focused. 'Christian' was a common enough name in England, but Captain Bligh was sure there was a connection, because the sailing master before him looked just like another he knew...

"My name is William Christian...Captain Bligh...brother of Lieutenant Fletcher Christain of the H.M.S. Bounty, the man who was your friend, the man you promoted, and the man YOU drove insane enough to take the ship from you!" Both men stood.

The captain let it hang in the air just long enough to get everybody uncomfortable. It was necessary because the moment he knew whose brother he was, Metzger became determined to use it to his advantage. It had to be discussed publicly because harmony on board his ship demanded it. If he let it fester in the year-long voyage to come, who knew what might happen. Besides, the engagement might shed light on what happened on board the Bounty, and on that, everyone was curious.

“Sit down gentlemen.” Silence. His sailing master sat slowly, but Captain Bligh remained. His face had contorted to something ugly, and he looked as if he wanted to swab the deck with Christian’s face. “That includes you, sir.”

“Let me enlighten you gentlemen,” said Bligh. “What Mr. Christian said is true. But also true is Fletcher Christian is a mutineer and traitor!”

“My brother would have never done that unless…!”

“Unless what?! The fact remains Mr. William, is that the court of admiralty has exonerated me, and charged me to assist your Captain in hunting them down.”

“Please take the seat Captain!” Metzger shouted this time. Bligh snapped quick like he had the neck of a parrot in the sight of a mouse. He glared at his fellow officer, composed himself and sat. The men needed to see that their captain was in charge, and not some zealous outsider.

“Now, everything said is true but one thing,” Metzger said. “If we find him, Lieutenant Fletcher Christian is to stand before the Admiralty just like you did sir. He will tell his side of the story, and the rest is up to the crown. If they decide he is guilty, then is a mutineer, until that happens, he is not.” The officers sitting around the spectacle were a mixture of nerves and astonishment. Better entertainment could not be bought – what rich gossip this would make! “Above all, the captain continued, I expect civility between both of you gentlemen. I expect you to set the example for all of us.”

Christian was about to burst. The normally pale face was beat red. He entered the Royal Navy because he had so much admiration for Fletcher, and he knew Bligh as well. Captain Metzger knew Bligh was close to the family until the mutiny, close enough to spend many a dinner with them. Close enough that Bligh and Fletcher were friends, perhaps best friends. Something stunk to high heaven. There was something terribly off about the whole thing, and Christian (and Bligh) knew there was more truth in the matter. The whole room could feel there was more, and they were at the edge of their seats to hear it.

“You can count on me to set the example sir.” The sailing master was dead serious. “I will respect the rank, but not the man. He knows what really happened that day.”

“Indeed, I do Mr. Christian. You also were NOT there that day, so I will be the authority of the matter thank you! Captain, you can understand if I am finicky about company that accuses me, and you will also understand if I elect tell the story it is the one that must stand as I am the only witness to it.”

Captain Metzger extended a palm inviting him to speak.

“But I don’t have to,” said Bligh straightly. “All of England knows how I was woken with a pistol in my face. All of Britian has read how Fletcher Christian set the men against me. All the British Empire knows how the naked women of Tahiti made the men overindulged and insane. And yes, all of us know how God was with me as I guided the skiff over three-thousand miles to safety for the crew still loyal to Britian. Yes, gentlemen. The story has not changed, and it will not change.”

It was then Metzger remembered the swinging men at the top of the highest yardarm of the British fleet. What was the deal with that? If they were guilty, they would have stayed with the rest of the mutineers. When they elected to go with Bligh, didn’t that prove their loyalty? He suffered with them and a dozen other men for months, so why were they hanging? What had they done to deserve to be hanged? What did they know that caused them to be hanged? His sailing master spoke well. What happened that day? Nonetheless, Metzger decided to keep quiet about it. He put his hand on Christian’s shoulder as he stood.

“Well, there it is gentlemen. If you have questions, now is the time.” No one dared address the tiny, fuming Bligh. There was something contemptable about him that turned the officers off to the whole thing. It was no longer a show to watch, it was rather depressing; and they loved their sailing master enough to let it die. They would ask him about it later anyway.

“Alright, let us stand and raise a glass to the voyage ahead!” The glasses were filled with the finest cabernet, and the servants came forward dressing the plates. Bligh and Christian were staring daggers at each other as they drank. Metzger said heartily, “God save the king!” Then most of them bowed their heads for the customary prayer, all except two who could think of nothing else but hatred. Bligh gave a cocky half-smile, and Christian cast a vigilant eye. Both seemed to say, “I’m watching you.”

Captain Bligh did not come out of his room for a month, though orders came for his wine and meals regularly. One of his servants even disposed of his bedpan thrice daily. And when they did so, they never looked up. They fixed upon the deck even if the sea was rough, Christian and everyone else marked how they said nothing as well. It didn’t make sense until one day the one named “Smith” was tied to the ropes and beaten for protesting his duties to Bligh. It was then the tiny captain emerged in full dress with a bedpan in his hand. The whole crew was summoned for the beating as it was in the Royal Navy, but just before the stripes were whetted, Bligh dumped the contents of the pan onto Smith causing the whole crew to murmur. When Christian took him to see the doctor afterward, Smith finally spoke.

“I was there. I knew your brother, and he is a good man. You wouldn’t believe the things I could tell you.”

After a few months, the ship anchored in Tahiti, and just like Captain Bligh said, the people came up to the ship in small boats, and all of them were half naked. The men had heard about the women of Tahiti but didn’t believe it until they saw them. All the sudden men changed on the ship, and all were granted time on the island. Just as the first boats were about to leave, Captain Bligh approached Metzger.

“I warn you Captain, do not let them stay long or they will turn on you.”

After a few days, men reported reluctantly back to ship, but with stories of sexual excess that circulated the entire crew. Metzger noted the change in attitude and discipline when one, then two men deserted. When they were found they received the customary flogging, but this time in front of a crew that hated the ship, their Captain, and the Royal Navy because they had just sailed away from paradise. The morale on the ship had never been so low.

A few nights later, hundreds of miles away from Tahiti, the Pandora struck a reef. It was barely sunrise when the captain marched on deck just in time to see his ship begin to list, and the pumps manned in vain. “Where’s Christian?!”

The sailing master was at the front of the ship with a dagger at the throat of a familiar tiny Captain. Metzger shouted.

“Smith told me all of it. It wasn’t the women of Tahiti, it was YOU! And treason? This isn’t treason, its poetic justice! Smith! Get over here!” The servant came forward.

Smith finally looked up. “How many bedpans have you dumped on me? How many!! On Fletcher, on all the boys you hated! Well! Who’s dumping now!! And the servant dumped a bedpan all over the captain.

“Push me over Smith, and you’ll hang for it. I’ll have your blood for it just like the others I hung for it! You’ll have my blood on you! And I will eat yours! You hear me!”

“STOP!!” Smith roared in agony.

Captain Metzger ran to a stop just in time to hear it. Bligh looked at the captain elated, but the captain stayed his hand. His countenance went cold, and he understood. Half the crew had gathered around, and Metzger turned to them. “This is what happens to tyrants.”

And Bligh went tumbling over.