It had been twenty-six years since Will last touched his father. The longing within him had become too much and interfered with his daily life and he found it necessary to delegate responsibility to efficiently run his business. Will was now thirty-two and he could think of nothing else. Leaving the helm of his operation to those he trusted he began the task of finding his father, and found it settled the ache within his heart. He visited the King’s Head at Ringaskiddy in Cork Harbour but publican Evan McTaggert had passed away leaving a dead end. All that remained was the stories and the legend of the Ghost.
However the new publican spoke of a French captain named Louis who often visited Plymouth and had claimed to have seen his father recently. The Frenchman captained a fine merchant ship working from the port of Soyo in the Congo; the ship’s name was the Angelina. The ship was manned by a crew of black African seamen and they traded in precious stones, nut oil, tobacco and gold.
The information had been recently carried to the tavern by merchant sailors bringing supplies from Portsmouth and Plymouth to the Royal Navy yards in Cork on Spike Island. The ship was pure white but her sails were jet black; she had been known to do twenty knots when the wind prevailed. Although unarmed, for some reason the ship was feared by all who looked upon her. It was said she was once the bringer of death.
Will gained an audience with John Mansfield who was in charge of operations for the Royal Navy in Cork and was once the captain of the Dryad, his father’s first posting on a ship. He found the story of the ship to be true, the Angelina a most beautiful, graceful merchant ship, visited the port of Plymouth regularly, trading from the Congo.
The Angelina was easily recognised; someone had spent many hours making her a stunning beauty. Her golden-haired angel figurehead was outstanding. The ship never seemed to age no matter how long she spent at sea. Mansfield would not be drawn on the point that the ship was once the bringer of death, saying sailors were superstitious and loved stories and legends.
Will did not tell Mansfield who he was; he thanked him and went to leave. Before he left Mansfield asked why he should be so interested in a brigantine merchant ship from the Congo. Will used the guise of selling steam engines to industry in Africa and that he wanted to use the ship as a contact for a business plan in the area. Mansfield did look at him and think for a while. When Will gave his name as McGuire he finally made the comment that the Irish often looked alike.
Will quickly found himself on a British man of war heading for Plymouth as an honoured guest. Steam interested the navy and Mansfield was quick to encourage the corridor of trade. Will stood at the bow of the massive building of oak, rope and canvass as she pounded through the waves toward England. The veins in his neck blew up as the adrenaline raced within his bloodstream. He watched the crew race around the deck to the yell of the captain's voice, akin to the heartbeat of a lion. He held the handrail of the mighty structure, feeling the timber grain through his fingertips while his nostrils flared with salt spray. It was all foreign to him but he finally understood why his father could never leave the sea.
Plymouth was bustling with merchant shipping, the odd man of war lay at anchor and Will searched diligently every day for the Angelina. He heard stories in the taverns of the Napoleonic Wars, victory over the French and now and then of an Irish ship, the Ghost. Will found sailors to be a breed of their own and looked between the lines for answers but he could not find the Angelina. He had been away from home for two months and decided to secure passage to the Congo on a merchant ship. He was told you do not go to the port of Soyo without good reason. He put forward the opportunity of steam to many a captain but was continually rewarded with silence or a flat refusal to carry a stranger into the port of Soyo. He prepared to return to Cork and ask Mansfield for further assistance, boarding a British merchant ship leaving that day.
Will watched the bustling harbour from the ship’s seaward side. He looked into the water watching small fish flurry around scraps thrown from the galley by a cabin hand to his left, looking back towards the inner harbour. Will noticed the boy had frozen, watching something over Will’s shoulder in awe. He turned to see what had the boy's attention and would never forget the first time he saw the Angelina. She whispered past right under his nose; the figurehead was a perfect double of what he could remember of his mother. Pure white hull and decking, not a mark on her anywhere. The black crew members stood out on her deck but those who stowed the black sails at times were hard to see. The activity on the British ship stopped as the crew hugged the railing watching her head up harbour.
Will spoke to a crew member standing next to him, "Is that the Angelina?" he asked.
The sailor drew his eyes from her and looked at him, speaking with a broad London accent. "If you don't know the Angelina you are not a seaman."
"No you're right, I make steam engines."
"Well bless my soul, I'm hoping to get on one of the new steam-powered ships just to see what it’s like. They have made some of steel, but they will never match the beauty of the Angelina. They look like terraced houses with windmill stream wheels on."
Will smiled and laughed. "You know I do believe you're right. Where will I find her docked?"
The seaman looked blank and concerned. "No one boards the Angelina, she will be in and out in a flash." He looked around to make sure he was out of earshot of other crew members. "They call it Constitution Dock next to the Ghost tavern." The seaman leaned to Will’s ear and whispered. "They say she was the bringer of death, anyone who tries to harm her will be cursed. Voodoo flows through her timbers from her black crew and the blood of hundreds of dead."
Will smiled at the seaman as he walked away. "Thanks for your help." Will gathered his bag and walked down the loading plank, heading inland toward Constitution Dock. The Angelina had tied up when he walked along the dock edge and noticed the sign of the tavern called the Ghost swinging in the mild breeze on its rusted squeaky hinges. The insignia was of a black silhouette of a ship, the shape of the Angelina, in a raging sea storm. Black crew members from the Angelina were busy securing the loading ramp to the dock.
Will approached them and spoke when in earshot, "Pardon me can I see your captain?" he asked.
An ageing Number Four with his back to Will turned and looked in his face, he froze and started to shake his head violently, then ran up the gang plank he had just secured onto the deck of the Angelina screaming, "Vodun Legba, ahhhh." He fell to the deck floor, writhing around and continuing to shout the same thing over and over again.
Louis Belgarde, captain of the Angelina, came on deck from below to investigate. He shouted at Number One, "What is he saying, what is wrong with him?" Number One knelt beside him and they shouted at each other in their own tongue.
"He says he has seen vodun spirit Legba." Number One rose and looked over the railing to the dock below into Will’ face. He pointed at Will. "Look for yourself Bwana, Fial double spirit returns young in someone else's body, Vodun medicine."
Belgarde raced to the railing looking down at Will and whispered to himself nodding with a smile. "Dieu de mai être mon témoin, cela doit être" May God be my witness, this must be.
He shouted at Will, "What is your name Monsieur!?"
Will recognised Belgarde. "William Ryan McGuire!"
Belgarde thought in silence for a while, sailors along the dock watched in disbelief, you could hear a pin drop. "No Monsieur, your name is William Ryan McMurrin and you can come aboard this ship, named by your father after your mother."
Will cautiously picked up his bag and boarded the Angelina, as Belgarde embraced him the black crew fell at his feet. Sailors scurried into the tavern eager to be the first bringer of news. Will looked at the black crew below him, "Is this really happening? I feel a bit overwhelmed."
"So do they, to them your father is a god and you are the image of him. You are about to go where few men have ever been."
"Is my father still alive?"
"Ah o
ui Monsieur, very much alive."
Will had time to write a letter to his business manager and one to his ageing grandfather telling them of his adventure and that he would return. The Angelina completed her trade in a few hours and put to sea: destination Soyo.