Worn out Dreams

By Ron Nielsen

Diego Gonzaleys left his wife Helean and son Josue in Santander Spain for a career on the high seas hunting whales.

After many years mastering the art he decided it was time for a change the guilt of leaving his wife and son behind to fend for themselves was playing on his mind.

He had heard news of new farmland being opened up across the Blue Mountains near Bathurst for raising sheep.

He had a substancial amount of money saved up. Thinking he would purchase some land and send for his son Josue and wife Molly and their son Juan to leave Spain and start a new life in Australia.

When the Gonzaleys finally settled on the land they experienced nothing but hardship. Continuous drought and fierce confrontation from their neighbours the aboriginals and Police Troopers led by the ruthless Henry Blunder were only some of the setbacks they had to deal with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664106765

Ron Nielsen

Ron Nielsen was born in the small sugarcane growing town of Home Hill, Queensland, in 1947. He cut sugarcane by hand for five years before cane harvesters came into operation, which ended the career of the cane cutter. Ron obtained work at the Inkerman Sugar Mill, driving a sugar train. Over the years, he witnessed the mighty Burdekin River break its banks, flooding his hometown and inflicting much damage to the railway bridge that linked north to south. Ron’s interests are fishing, drawing, and painting—also aircrafts and car shows.

Book preview

WORN OUT DREAMS

Ron Nielsen

Copyright © 2021 by Ron Nielsen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and

such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/26/2021

Xlibris

AU TFN: 1 800 844 927 (Toll Free inside Australia)

AU Local: 0283 108 187 ([phone] from outside Australia)

www.Xlibris.com.au

806624

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Main Characters

Ratua Farino - Island of Efate

Kanua Malnounu - Island of Ambrym

Coora Malnounu - Kanua’s wife

Sarra Malnounu - Kanua’s brother

Tatow Malnounu - Kanua’s eldest son

Tarry Malnounu - Kanua’s youngest son

Diego Gonzaleys - Father

Josue Gonzaleys - Diego’s son

Molly Gonzaleys - Josue’s wife

Juan Gonzaleys - Josue’s son

Eagle Plains Station

Herbert Sidney - Father

Dana Sidney - Herbert’s wife

Bonny Sidney - Herbert’s youngest girl

Hayley Sidney - Herbert’s eldest girl

Jimmy Green - Eagle Plains Foreman

Jack Wilson - Eagle Plains Foreman

Joe Ballard - Owner Iron-Bark Downs Station

Police Troopers

Henry Blunder - Lieutenant

Dereck Spencer - Sergent

Curtis Stewart - Sergent

Dean Jensen - Private

Jimmy Cornfort - Private

Aboriginals

Garrie - Father

Makka - Son

Janda - Daughter

PROLOGUE

It was an obsession of whalemen who had excellent skills.

The hysteria of whale hunting swept across the world like a great overpowering wave.

In every hotel and bar the great sea monster became the latest craze.

The whale men brave beyond anyone’s imagination.

They were a rebellious mob that were made of islander slaves and hardened criminals who could barely read or write.

Most of the criminals were convicted men that were given a last minute sentence to serve on a whaling ship a place where discipline was in order as the captain kept a vigilant eye on his crew. If they became out of hand the captain would dispense punishment such as 50 lashes.

The captain’s mission is very clear he knows he must study every detail of whale life its territory its migratory patterns and feeding habits, so he could grow the owners of the whaling ships prosperous by selling rendered oil to light up the lamps of the world and lubricate the gears of industry. But there is even a stronger desire to remove the sea monster from the ocean. It was believed the whale was known as the incarnation of evil and it was God’s will that the beast be slayed.

So it seemed the whale’s fate had already been chosen as thousands of whales would be slaughtered over the next few decades.

In 1860 Yankee whalemen produced a staggering 68,900 barrels that year.

Shipping merchants made a handsome profit. New Bedford was now the home of over 500 whaling ships which on their long distance journeys into the high seas spent the winter months hunting sperm whales. But the good times could not last the whale men ignorant of what was about to happen. It was as if curse was cast on the industry. It was a known fact that the average whaleman had never heard of an enterprizing man such as Edwin Drake.

His Seneca Oil Company succeeded in extracting petroleum by drilling below the earth’s surface near Pennsylvania dealing a decisive blow to the whaling industry. It was as if he had sunk every whale ship afloat. It was found the petroleum was a far cheaper lubrication than whale oil.

Drake’s discovery soon crippled the once thriving whale industry.

The whale hunters and their owners were ruined by 1871.

They never received a red cent for their winters catch and few returned.

The whale industry was now dead it seemed such a crying shame that the once busling whale ports lay idle and in ruin.

On the wharves of New Bedford a great number of oil casts laid rotting most of the whaling ships scuttled or burnt.

Many captains suffered depression and committed suicide. Some would be seen visiting the old ghostly wharves dreaming of their fond memories yet they are still here and are grateful for that. God watches over them and they place their trust in his hands. They realise that there will be no futher whaling adventures ever.

CHAPTER 1

It was an area where mountains decend almost perpendicular to the ocean. Where fifty foot waves pounded its rocky shores and surged with fury to the low lands a chain of islands cursed by unparalleled misfortune from the heartless eagerness of nature.

For thousands of years a sense of uncertainty haunts the islands of New Hebrides which lie on the top of the menacing Pacific Ring of Fire which is the world’s most violent area of seismic activity.

There is something evil the natives don’t just understand. The tribes around the islands live in large clans separated by deep ravines.

They practiced sorcery and black magic causing so much distrust and corruption in their villages. Many believed the ancestor spirits were angry with their evil ways and there would come a time when they would send the curse of death over the land. What many predicted finally happened and it came without warning a terrifying rumble of thunder disturbed the silence of a new day.

Natives wrapped in the warmth of their beds were woken by violent tremors that shook the villages to their very core.

The natives emerged from their huts to witness a horrifying volcano erupting they fled in terror. Thousands of tons of fiery rock burst skywards and rained down on their villages followed by an avalanche of molten rock that swept down from the side of the mountain with horrendous outcome.

1.jpg

The destruction was devastating human life was annihilated.

After two terrifying days the angry mountain returned to one of calmness.

The natives returned to the ruins to rebuild their villages to their former glory. Their minds tremble with remembrance of their lost love ones. They gaze upon their once green mountain that is now plagued with scorched forests and can still hear the voices of the doomed whispering amongst the darkened trees.

Yes the natives faced many long struggles. The eruptions had bought many deaths but nothing compared to the loss of life due to the continuing wars between the natives on the islands of Ambrym and Efate they fought with such bitter hate.

The Austronescons of Ambrym greatly overshadowed the Efate warriors with their advanced maritime techology. They travelled long sea voyages in their canoes attacking small villages of Efate looting valuables and committing terrible acts of crime.

After many victories they would return triumph to Ambrym. The island people welcomed their glorious return celebrating with great feasts. After their convincing victories their confidence surged.

In the eyes of the natives no island would dare challenge the might of the Ambrym warriors. They truely believed they were unconquerable so proud they were of their dominance. They felt Ambrym was the jewel in the crown of the chain of islands in the New Hebrides.

Over the years their celebrations became more frequent they experienced some of the islands most striking cermonies wearing their colourful costumes stomping their feet to the beat of the tall Tam Tam drums performing their tradional ROM-DANCE. The dance activity was around the largest and most distinguished hut the dwelling in which the chief warrior lived the grand master of the island people.

The chief sits amongst the towering toten poles with authority. He is a warrior of trust and fairness acting as a justice of the peace and his word is law. He gazes over the village dances with an alerted eye making sure the natives perform their custom rituals with pride and dignity. The celebration of drink and dance continue over the months and years ahead. The Ambrym race flourished and seemed to be locked in a world of contentness.

Concerned with their relaxed way of living outcrys of objection came from many dispirited warriors. They believed it was not in the islands interest to continue on this reckless path of constant celebrations. The natives seemed to have lost direction became fat and lazy losing their incentive to fight, hunt or fish. Little did they realise that preying eyes had been witnessing the Ambrym’s relaxed behaviour and were no longer the dominant force they once were.

A sense of vengeance now whispered in the Pacific wind. Over a long period of time the island of Efate had been preparing their battle hardened warriors now seemed a perfect time to attack.

Before midnight the warring tribes of Efate were launching their large canoes for their 50 mile journey to Ambrym.

Only the soft sound of their smooth and swift oars breaking the ocean surface broke the stillness of the early morning air. After 6 hours of rowing the Efate warriors looked on the sandy shores of Ambrym. The early dawn broke with a brilliant array of colours the sun hung on the crest of the horizon.

Their eyes mirrored revenge hard and penetrating, warriors who had experienced too many years of defeat. This revenge had given them drive and power to crush the Ambrym’s who had caused them so much misery.

Finally they beached their canoes and cautiously move forward with ease and grace of the finest Efate Hunter, with weaving shadows they advanced though the great silent trees.

The Efate warriors met with little resistance from the Ambryms. Whilst most of them slept they were woken by indescribable horror. Cries echoed in the village their screams for mercy ignored by the Efate warriors.

There was the sound of scurring fleeing footsteps many Ambryms fled to the mountains.

Finally the battle ended. The dead beheaded bodies cooked and eaten by the cannibals. Those Ambryms who survived would never forget or forgive the barbaric slaughter.

It seemed the conflict between the two islands would go on for ever.

Many centuries pass and sea venturing explorers enter the scene.

In 1605 Pedro de Quiros a Portuguese navigator serving the Spanish crown discovered the chain of islands claiming the new land under Spanish rule.

Many other sailors and explorers emerged from foreign countries to the New Hebrides. Legends in the making but it seemed strange that the east coast of Australia had been overlooked.

Sea faring men such as the Spanish and Dutch navigated the region with little interest.

But that soon changed in the first month of winter 1770 when a ship made a mysterious appearance like a ghost it sailed though the mist between dark and midnight a pale moon glowed a dim light over the glassy water a moonlight that seemed forbidding and cold.

The ships sails showing little inspiration in the light breeze struggling to push the ship at a sluggish five knots.

Finally daylight breaks and the mist cleared to a brilliant blue sky.

Yorshire born navigator Captain James Cook had carefully mapped the eastern coast line over a long period he spent much of his time sailing across the vast oceans.

His orders from the monarchy were to secure a hold on the new country before other European nations laid a claim.

Cook was an explorer with a sense of vision and challenge as he ventured into unchartered waters. He raised his spy glass and peered into the distance. He smiled with achievement when the faint coastal cliffs captured his attention. Ordering his first mate to steer the Endeavour to the coastal highrise and within a few hours the crew found themselves staring at the amazing scenery. Rock formation and huge trees reflected majestly in the vivid harbour waters.

Cook recognized possible fertility in the land that had not been seen by former mariners. He believed grain would flourish in the new land and raised the British flag on the new discovery then continued to the North.

After dreaded months of sailing his ship struck the reef off the east coast and the Endeavour started taking water 23 hours passed before she was floated off. Everyone on board took their turn of manning the pumps.

It was a desperate time for the Endeavour crew as most of them could not swim and would have surely drowned if she sank. Finally they found a safe harbour to repair the ship.

The Endeavour River which he named was Cook’s sixth East Coast landing and there would be another seven before he left for England and carried the welcome news back to his home country. Claiming the new discovery would be ideal for a convict settlement. 1787 the 28 year of reign of King George the III sent a fleet of convict ships to colonize Australia. The English Judges committed to deporting English law breakers believing Australia would be an ideal place.

The unexplored country would become a prison for criminals who committed crimes back in England and it was not long before their plan was put into practice.

Now the British were to witness a new colonial experiment.

On the afternoon of January 26 1788 when a feet of eleven ships carrying 548 men and 188 female convicts under the command of Captain Arthur Phillip in his flagship Sirius entered Port Jackson.

To the convicts the new country seemed to be a strange desolate land. A land of exile they had never seen before. They gazed upon the sandstone ledges that dipped down into the harbour. Strange looking trees that grew on the banks made up of eucalyptus and red gums and bushland densely wild with bird life.

Kangaroos were seen bouncing about the stony hillsides but the bird life and bush animals were not the only things that startled them. Bands of dark thin figures lined the banks giving the ships an unwelcome stare a primitive race of people that seemed to blend in with the harshness of the land.

They waved their spears in protest they feared secrets of their land and lifestyle was about to be lost with the arrival of these intruders. The blacks feared an abrupt change it whispered in the wind and gushed across the water. These dark people were intensely territorial and stood motionless their eyes clouded with confusion.

Over the weeks and months ahead the British Empire began to expand. Buildings and jails began to appear but this progress was not without setbacks. Food production was a worry for the early British settlers.

They had no knowledge of the new land soils. The land around Port Jackson was barren compared to the fertile English soil the new colony was edging perilously close to starvation. Things went from bad to worse.

Governer Phillip realized that something drastic had to be done. He realised that the civil officers needed financial backing to breed stock. In 1792 he began making land and convict labour available so now they were blessed with some capital.

Until then the new settlers were expected to survive on vegetables and pork and a limited supply of bread when flour was available.

He introduced sheep to the small settlers. The sheep would be slayed for mutton but a major change did eventually arrive when John Macathur began mating selected breeds with a flock of Spanish Merinos an experiment that led to a booming wool industry.

There seemed to be determined ambition to expand the industry. The new settlers viewed that there must be suitable land of fertile pastures for potential productivity.

What lay beyond the Blue Mountains remained a mystery.

The colony had been established for 25 years before three enterprizing settlers along with a few aboriginal trackers and a number of pack horses left Sydney in an attempt to cross those treacherous mountains. After many harsh days of travel Blaxland, Wentworth and Lawson finally succeeded in crossing the Great Divide.

They gazed with an optimistic outlook from great heights at the bountiful plains and winding rivers in the distance. Night fall is now approaching the adventurous band of men made a camp fire and decided to stay the night. Their intent was to proceed on their journey at first light in the morning.

CHAPTER 2

Some distance away a young aboriginal stands alone in the darkening hours on the Bathurst plains. He looks up to the heavens with a curious shake of his head. He finds the wonders of the universe truly amazing. The striking natural vision of billions of dazzing stars that glitter with brilliance in the vastness of the galaxy. He finds this vision of the night sky a great spectacle.

The dark figure decides to move on roaming the plains hunting for prey.

It had been a tradition handed down though generations which he was committed to with honor and duty although he finds his efforts unrewarding. The environment in which nature was meant to be seemed to have been lost animal habitation was scarce.

The skyline brightened faintly in the east with the approach of dawn the first light of a new day now approaching. Finally that great ball of fire starts to emerge above those magnifient Blue Mountains. Steep cliffs of unexplored forests blessed with blue gums and eucalyptus where native birds and animals survive on the mountains.

His ancestors had walked and hunted the plains for thousands of years living on wildlife. Garrie is a decendant of the Wiradjuri tribe which its territory is restricted to the plains but he finds the mountainous lands of the Darug tribe so inviting.

He knows that certain rules apply that he must follow. The mountain ranges are forbidden and he must avoid contact with the Darug people. Even so he finds it hard to resist the tempation to venture into enemy territory to hunt inviting prey. He walked towards those inviting Blue Mountains with renewed confidence.

After a few hours he arrives. He moves with ease and grace his body trim hard and alert when the situation demanded it. Slowly cautiously he made his way along the bushland edge the bush birds called out sharply at his passing the air was sweet and heavy. Like a shadow he slipped though the heavy forest his eyes searching for any movement. He sights a young Roo the animal stood motionless with a curious stare. Garrie lifted his spear and hurled it at the target. His aim was deadly the spear meeting its mark with blinding speed. The young aboriginal looked at the lifeless animal with respect he did not enjoy killing but killing was the sole function of his existance necessary for his survival. His heart was heavy with sadness he throws the young roo over his shoulder and starts to make his way back on a different route.

He had only travelled a short way when he hears voices in the breeze. Warily he makes his way forward. Within minutes he peered though heavy foliage observing the Darug clan performing a grand corroboree.

His hands tightened around his spear in readiness. For a long moment he stood without moving as the dark figures danced around the light of the fire.

He sensed great risk and danger and crept away with absolute silence relieved that he had not experienced conflict with the Darug clan. After miles of walking he finds himself standing on a ridge overlooking the plains, suddenly a flicker of movement registered at the edge of his vision he stepped forward under the heavy foliage and rested his hand on the rough bark and took a closer look.

Confusion swept over him and question formed on his lips. He studied for a long moment his face clouded with conflicting emotions.

Three white men with two aborigines and strange looking animals came into a clearing marching to the land beyond with the sounds of boots and hooves thudding along the rough surface sending clouds of dust into the early morning sky.

A sudden shudder swept over him leaving him cold with warning.

For thousands of years all aboriginal life was caught up in the struggle to stay alive.

Now with the white man’s arrival the dark race of people would have to adapt to these new intruders.

Without further hesitation Garrie rushed back to his tribal grounds to inform the elders of the unwelcome arrivals.

Over the months ahead many more white man followed causing many deaths both black and white the aboriginals claiming they were the true owners of the land. Believing the land was created by their spirit ancestors for them and them alone to hunt and survive on.

Now their very existance would be spoiled by the white man. 15 year old Garrie sat next to his father Gura thinking of the past. It has been almost two years since he first sighted the white men crossing the Blue Mountains. It was the youngster’s favourite time of day. The sun had dropped below the horizon the light had faded into darkness and the day’s heat had cooled and a refreshing breeze had sprung up. He lay back and gazed skyward where the gums spread their foliage enough to permit glimses of the stars bright glittering jewels above seemed to beam a sense of contentness.

Garrie turned to his father with a positive stare.

It’s an amazing evening father the stars glitter with brilliance the bushland whispers peacefully.

Gura lifted his shaggy head and growled abruptly warning mirrored in his dark eyes. I am far too wise to believe that Garrie! Our land is now filled with so many dangers there has been so many deaths and many more to come with the passing of every day. You have not seen the worst of it!

We the hunters have now become the hunted my son! Garrie looked up to his father’s troubled face the glow of warning in his dark eyes.

The youngster sunk down with a sense of emptiness almost as if he was afraid to express what he was really feeling.

‘What will we do father?’ asked the youngster looking uneasy.

"Kill the white man! Set raging fires over the plains, burn them out. The white man is only for himself. Take. Take. Take and never give anything back to the land in return!

The new arrivals will wreck the character of the land cut down the trees. Destroy the bush wild life that the dark man survives on.

They have bought thousands of those wooly creatures here that are grazing on our grass lands and mudding our water holes. We will kill those wooly creatures as they are fair game equal to wild geese, roo’s and lizards we hunt."

Gura eyes filled with fire so much bitterness stirred within him so much bitterness Garrie could almost taste it. Over the years ahead many fierce battles broke out between black and white in which Garrie’s father was slaughtered.

The government was unaware how hostile and brutal the attacks had become. Nothing seemed to halt the onslaught.

The onward movement of the white man sheep and bullock waggons continued to surge, flocks of sheep flooding the Bathurst plains.

Inland Australia was starting to prosper although the squatters faced much loneliness with their isolation they experienced much hardship building huts and stock yards.

Their survival relied on the availability of water and rewarding grassland. Living at the mercy of the natives as well as drought and fire so many squatters folded with nothing but memories to show for their courage. The years of struggle continued and by 1836 Governor Bourke recognized their hardship. He granted the squatters ownership of their land as long as they paid £10 licence payments for the right to occupy this enthusiastic scheme and set the struggling settlement on its feet. Much more exploration resulted in an advanced settlement stimutating growth in the wool industry bringing new light to the convict settlement.

Eventually there was well over six hundred squatting in New South Wales stocking over one million sheep.

The frontiers of industry speed far and wide across the land. Hotels and depots were established in Bathurst. Roads were built by convicts and islander slaves.

Yes it seemed the new land was booming with prospect. It seemed evident that the years of wealth and prosperity could not last. Political and financial unrest in the new country arrived. Unemployment and the lack of capital begun to set in as the government ceased to encourage immigration, sheep could be only sold as tallow and land sales gave way to leaseholds. Many settlers had sought to expand on the land which was experiencing a financial crisis depression and drought.

Many business men and coastal traders turned their attention to the sea.

They purchased magnifient whaling ships sought cheap Kanaka labour from the New Herbides.

It seemed an obsession of the nations of the world to play their hand against nature.

No greater challenge could be sought than to hunt the mighty beast known as the great Leviathan.

The economic blessings for the wealthy ship merchants would be staggering.

The demand for whale oil that could light up the lamps and lubricate the gears of industry would be rewarding.

Daring men in small longboats no more that 27 feet long under dangerous conditions would hunt the huge mammal known as the incarnation of evil and perish in a dreaded way the boats often detroyed by the huge tail of an angry whale.

Yankee and Australian whalers ventured to the very ends of the Atlantic and Pacific. Voyaging along the ice shelves of Antarctica, cold and cruel was their welcome where blankets froze to their bunks and ice crackled on the ships rigging. It seemed an obsession of men to hunt the mighty whale a giant gliding mountain of a creature that roamed the worlds oceans daring sailors in dangerous conditions who challeged the beast with determined hearts. For the virtue of economic wealth knowing that they could perish smashed by bad weather or trapped in the Arctic ice.

CHAPTER 3

The stirring whaling years drift by.

The year 1837 arrives.

The whaling vessel Northern Star cruises on the calming waters of the Atlantic she is one of the finest ships from New Bedford to ever take to the sea.

A ship destined for success. She was under the command of one of the hardest driving captains a ruthless man driving his crew to the limit. Many of the crew was made up of hard lined criminals and slaves from the New Hebrides.

Yes the master of the whaler Northern Star Samual Jackson was gifted with substantial maritime talent highly capable as he checked the charts and compass as he plotted the course forward.

He realises these waters could defly even the most daring men. Believing he had a way of achieving things that his crew thought impossible.

Jackson knows a whalemans life is tinged with terror and loneliness. He also knows that time is an important factor.

Many cautious skippers sailed the longer and slower route around Africa’s Cape of Good Hope the captain was a man of challenge defying the risks and dangers.

He decided to chance the route around Cape Horn at the tip of South America. After days of pleasant sailing they had experienced favourable weather. But as they approached the treacherous Cape Horn the sea became somewhat choppy. That seemed no concern to the captain as he expected the sea around Cape Horn to be a little less friendly.

For 24 hours Northern Star made its way around the Cape with ease. The captain was smiling with confidence. Come the early morning dawn the smile was wiped from his face instead concern mirrored in his eyes. The sun had failed to appear a band of dark clouds formed above the horizon to the South.

What a bastard! A storm is brewing our run of luck has come to an end" he cursed.

But it won’t beat me. We will steer clear of it. Within an hour the Yankee Whaler under full sail started to plunge into heavy seas.

The captain held the wheel steady as waves started to crash over the bow. He shivered from the cold his clothes soaking wet the sea water dripping from his hat. But the rough conditions never deterred him. He steered the ship forward with stubborn determination.

Many of the crew viewed the captain as a madman and were with concern wondering why he had not given the order to reset the sails.

One of the crewmen was Diego Gonzaleys the adrenalin pumping though his veins and he seemed in the state of panic. So was the comrade next to him who voiced his disapproval.

‘The captain is a fool! A damn crazy fool! It was a crazy decision to take the sea route around the dangerous perils of Cape Horn! We could lose the gamble and dearly pay with our lives Diego!’ cursed Bruno Wilson his words dark with warning.

Diego Gonzaleys screwed his face with distaste "Bastard of a man is Samual Jackson! His greed to achieve overrides the safety of his crew.

We must not speak out. We must hold our tongues Bruno! the captain still maintains his discipline. If he hears such words against him he will have us severely punished."

The swells are becoming higher the Nantucket built vessel Northern Star struggled to make headway against the brute force of an Atlantic hurricane.

The curse of doom seemed certain as her tall ranking masts swayed and creaked.

Something had to give after a long period of constant battering.

And it did. Sails were torn the stern rigging snapped with a singing whine.

The 140 feet 400 ton whaler plunged helplessly into deep valleys of the sea.

Diego’s eyes were full of terror as a monster wave came rushing forward.

He turned to Bruno with warning

Bruno grab a fist full of rigging and hang on for dear life we are about to be swamped.

Within a few heartbeats a huge mountain of water crashed over the bow the length of the ship awash with knee deep water.

The Northern Star miraculiously started to ascend from the valley of doom the sea receding from the deck at an alarming rate sweeping three helpless Kanaka sailors into the ragging sea never to be seen again.

The cruel challenge against the evils of nature seemed unjust.

Diego looked at Bruno with absolute sympathy "poor bastards never had a chance but there will be not a once of guilt in the captains mind! I assure you Bruno!’

The torrid hours drifted by visibity became non existant the ship was at the mercy of the lord.

There seemed to be no end to the onslaugh the ship hopelessly out of control way beyond its designated course. After hours of terror finally the wind faded to a whisper the sky cleared.

The crew now stared at the glowing icy shelves that surrounded them and realising that they had been swept into the deadly claws of Antarctica. Now the challenge was not the ragging storm but a sea of ice.

With a determined effort to break free it was in their favour that the bowhead of The Northern Star had been reinforced for such extreme conditions and she made progressive headway cutting though the ice. But to the crews bitter frustration the ship started to slow eventually coming to a crippling halt.

This is the result of the captain’s ignorance and aggressiveness we have now become prisoners of the hostile cold Diego! curses Bruno with a tinge of distaste on his eyes.

Diego shook his head We are not done yet my friend. We must be positive and brave out the treacherous conditions. Keep moving to keep our blood circulating we will burn the whale oil that is stored in the hull to keep us warm! As for food we will fish the holes in the ice.

Bruno Wilson does not believe Diego’s words of encouragement.

He shakes his head despairingly the Norther Star and its crew are bound for defeat. The Artic Winter will be soon upon us nothing can save us. We will all die a slow cold death!"

The days and weeks that followed became a bitter struggle. Isolation boredom and frustration gripped their minds.

The temperature plunged so low it almost become unbearable. So low blankets froze to their beds and to make things worse, those fishing holes they were so depending on froze over so food was becoming dangerously low.

Food rationing was soon applied. Two months of grimness and dread were experienced.

So grim the captain ordered a meeting with the crew it was with a loud commanding voice that he made his intentions clear.

He declared that he would send four teams of two each armed with a harpoon and a slicing knife to hunt anything that moved.

The crews stared back with fearful eyes. Thinking it was alright for the captain he did not have to leave the ship and face the perils of the unknown. The captain noticed their unwillingness to face the cold.

I am sending 8 of you men on a demanding mission and I don’t want any spineless Jelly Fish amongst you.

Without any further hesitation he named the eight.

Diego was one of them.

Disappointed he was not paired with his good friend Bruno Wilson. Instead he would accompany a slave islander named Sarra - Malnounu.

2.jpg

The ship Northern Star

Diego Gonzaleys and Sarra Malnounu set out

in the freezing conditions to find food

After careful planning four pairs of men set out in different directions.

The conditions were unbearable.

Diego and Sarra faced a strong wind so cold and fierce.

Wonderous scenery before their eyes was almost beyond their imagination yet so challenging and dangerous.

They gazed into the vivid blue heavens and witnessed the breathtaking vision of an albatross that soared starkly above.

The huge bird signaled to them that man was not the dominant species in the land of ice.

A dangerous land of heavy snow falls where cyclonic storms pick up moisture from the surrounding sea where blizzards occurr on what is the damn coldest place on earth.

They trudged amongst abrupt sides of the ice.

The wind singing an errie cry so much uneasiness reflected in the two mens eyes.

They had walked over one mile from the ship.

Diego halted his movements and turned to address his comrade.

We had better not get to far from the ship Sarra otherwise we may become lost and never find our way back.

The native man smiles without warmth that’s if make it back Diego.

The Spaniard is stunned at the dark man’s negative outlook.

‘We will survive I’ve got too much to live for Sarra!

So do I replies the 6'2 raw boned islander. My friends and family await my return