Upon distant Shores

April 10th, 1837

My Dearest Emma,

For me time has turned dark like the void within my heart, it has been but one week since our departure from each other, and I ache for you, your eyes, your smile, your gentle touch. The voyage to the new world will be long and the distance vast, please know I do this for us, to begin a new life together. First I must find passage, for as your father would say, I am naught but a pauper. I pray you know I did not flee from cowardice as your father would have you believe, but from persecution of those who wish to see our love torn. I may not be worthy of you. However, I go away to become the man you so deserve.

I shall say farewell for now, sweet Emma.

Yours Forever,

Billy

April 12th, 1837

Emma my love,

Joyous news, I have found work aboard a trading vessel that will be heading to the Americas via the orient. Captain Morris is a fine man, strong and craggy but with kind eyes. When I mentioned you and the plight I was in, he offered me passage as a working hand aboard his ship. ‘Bona Fortuna.’ Which is Latin for good fortune, how fortuitous is this?

This adventure, although exciting is quite lonely. The days are busy, searching for employment but it is the nights that bleed my soul dry. I find myself staring at the stars and wonder if we see the same heavenly wonders.

We shove off, as they say, tomorrow with the tide. So, I say farewell sweet Emma. In every port we enter, I shall have my letters registered and sent to your aunts home in Craigellachie, Speyside.

Yours Forever,

Billy

April 22, 1837

My Sweet Emma,

I fear your Billy is no sailor, the seas were calm as we drifted down the coast of fair Scotland then past England’s Dover cliffs. However the channel crossing was rough, yet we prevailed. France remained on our left as we followed the shores south, where the waters grew calm once more. Fear not, I know in my heart that I shall rise above and soon have my sea legs. Regardless of aching head and churning stomachs, there is much to do, I may have underestimated the work entailed to keep a ship afloat. It takes great care and precision to run a vessel of this size. Emma, you should see the style of dress they have in France, the women most beautiful and flowered whilst the men’s clothing is rich yet impractical. I shall one day place a gown of such beauty into your fair hands.

How goes the talks with your father, does he now see my proposal to you as serious? If he could but see me now, I think he would be proud to call me son.

Farewell my love,

Billy

June 14th, 1837

Darling Emma,

You would not believe the sight my eyes now see. We have pulled into a strange land called Morrocco. Their garb and demeanor be more mysterious than French, Spanish and Italian put together. Yes, I am sure you are wondering where your letters are from those last two places. It is with deep regret that it was of utmost importance that we were quick on loading and offloading, due to coming storms. Yet inside you shall find two notes that may interest you regarding these places. Read them at your leisure.

Idle hands truly are the devils work, for the Captain does not give us the chance for wasteful thought. Please know, my heart is empty without you.

With all my soul,

Billy

June 20th, 1837

Dear Emma,

I write this note with haste. I have been informed that we leave on the tide tomorrow. For in one months time, we shall be rounding what is known as Cape Horn, a fearful and hazardous place. Dangerous at the best of times, most dire during the stormy season, which the Captain wishes to arrive before then. Though my way is perilous, I have come to realize that your life is more difficult and challenging. For that I humbly pray you forgive my weakness.

Yours,

Billy

July 18th, 1837

Emma,

The past weeks have been more than I would ever thought possible. I have seen such beasts as only imagination can conjure, and the people who reside have skin black as night. Strange they are, yet stoic and proud. Emma my eyes have been opened to a world I had not thought existed a mere few months ago. We have been given three days rest where I plan to explore the wonders of this place. I believe that adventure was always in my soul and wonder how a person can stay idle in one place for so many years.

Sincerely,

Billy

August 4th, 1837

Emma,

The trip around the Horn is hard to explain for someone who has not experienced travel. Let’s just say it is not for the faint of heart.

We lost a seaman named Lars over the side during a particularly wild stormy night. Lars was the one who taught me, he was a patient and tolerant teacher. He leaves behind his wife and two children, and was not much older than myself. I miss him greatly. The realization that I may perish at any time frightens me, I wonder, would you find another to replace me. The ship has become silent even though we live in tight quarters and stumble over each other. There is a vast separation in our souls. Not only from the loss of a fellow crewman but the desolation of the journey is beginning to take its toll. The air is heavy with despair, and the vast expanse of the ocean feels confining.

Lars told me of his plans to settle in the Columbia district in the North Pacific. I have found papers for a parcel of land amongst his possessions, which begs a dilemma of what to do with them. By rights, his family should receive all possessions and pay. Yet for all his time onboard no one on board knows from where he came, and therefore all will default to the Captain.

I struggle with this dilemma, for land would greatly improve my life.

With all my thought,

Billy

August 12th , 1837

Emma,

The Island that I wish to settle upon, is named after a British Royal Navy officer, Captain George Vancouver. The Spanish called it Quadra. I am told that it has untamed beaches, rich green land, with vast forests, minerals, and fish. I believe we shall find a home for us there. Once settled, I shall do my utmost to send for you, on my honor.

It should be noted that after a conversation with a fellow mate, I have been informed that the pay which we receive at the end of our destination will not be as large as I once thought. They tell me I will be docked for the lodging and food aboard the vessel. Plus, our wage depends on the total profits of the cargo we carry. This news saddens me, yet as a single man I am told there is easy employment to be had.

First we sail toward a place across the expanse of the great pacific ocean they call the sandwich islands. It is said to be of great beauty, yet much controversy. The Indigenous people are referred to as Hawai’i. From there we head to the lands discovered by Lewis and Clark , following the coast northward. By the time I reach our island, it will be over eight months since I set out. A long time to be apart from you. I have grown and changed. I do hope people have been kind and understanding towards you in my absence.

Going forward, I fear sending my letters home will be a challenge.

Farewell,

Billy

September 2nd, 1837

Dearest Emma,

Forgive my penmanship, the sea is rough, even the heartiest of sailors feel ill. The storms have battered us for many days and our ship is broken and taken on water. Fear not, I say this only to inform you of the continuous work that is needed. Our crew is steadfast and strong, dutiful, and stout of heart, and our Captain true. This time apart has given me time to reflect. I feel that I should apologize, perhaps your father was correct. Perhaps I had run off, instead of staying and fighting for us. I truly never meant to bring you shame. I left you to deal with the problem, instead of standing by your side. Time is a great healer not only body but mind as well

They call me. I fear my assistance is needed above deck.

I shall continue this letter, once I return to my quarters, for there is a confession I must share with you that has been tearing me apart.

*****

September 2nd, 1837

Dear Billy,

I wish you to know that I have received the first of your letters, hoping there will be more to arrive. Dutifully I will respond to each and everyone, although I fear that I know not where to send them. For now, I shall keep them safely hidden from father, who I fear has not changed his mind, yet I see hope. He has become dwindled, not in size but spirit. These last months have been troubling for him. However, I believe he has softened. For once he laid eyes upon the gift we have given him his demeanour changed. The shame that once burdened him seemed to dissipate the moment he held our child in his arms. You have a son, Billy. Strong, he cries like a stag in rut when hungry, much like you. I count the days when you shall see him. I have named him Callum, after your departed father.

Lovingly,

Emma

December 20th, 1837

Dear Billy

It has been ages since your last letter, I pray this delay tells me you have finally landed upon distant shores that we may now call home. There is much news to share with you. Father says there is naught left for him here. The church no longer welcomes us in their open arms and refuses to baptize our son. He says upon your request he shall sell off all we have and join us to begin a new life. Please send for us Billy, I miss your strength and gentle touch, and yes even that bristle thatch if hair you call a beard. I know your son wishes to be with his father, even though you have not yet met, I tell him of you daily and I see in his eyes he hears and understands.

Billy, send word and we shall come post haste.

Yours faithfully and forever,

Emma