Catch the Wind: My Journey with Caroline

Disappointment floods Caroline’s eyes, and I’m hit with guilt over letting her down. She’s been nothing but friendly to me, which only makes disappointing her harder to stomach. For a second, I almost change my mind. Maybe I should tag along after all, then slip off somewhere quiet later and turn the compass to get back to my own time.

Before I can make up my mind, Caroline straightens her shoulders and tells her mother to go on ahead with Lieutenant Woolsey. She’ll stay behind and wait for the sailcloth herself.

My jaw drops. I never wanted Caroline to give up an outing just so I wouldn’t be left alone, and her generosity catches me completely off guard. Mrs. Abbott grabs her bonnet and shawl and follows the lieutenant out the door.

Caroline grins at me and promises we’ll find something fun to do while we wait for the sailcloth. I laugh, already suspecting that adventure just naturally follows this girl around. Apparently, sticking with Caroline means staying ready for anything.

Caroline begins tidying the office, so I grab a rag to pitch in. About fifteen minutes later, a barefoot young man in a stained shirt sticks his head in, his tone polite but edged with scorn, and asks whether Mrs. Abbott’s around since a delivery wagon just pulled in. Caroline straightens up, holds his gaze, and states firmly that she’s expecting a sailcloth delivery. She tells him to send the driver in.

When the boy leaves, I ask who he is. Caroline sighs and explains he’s Jed, one of the shipyard’s woodworkers, who resents taking orders from her mother instead of a man. Tough luck for Jed, I think, surprised by how protective I already feel toward Caroline and her mother. When I tell her he’ll just have to deal with it, the phrase only confuses her. People probably didn’t talk that way 200 years ago.

Before I can explain further, the driver shows up, and we follow him to a wagon stacked with crates, barrels, and folded canvas. Caroline counts the pieces of canvas, confirms it matches the order, and sends Jed to fetch a man named Hosea. One curt, annoyed nod is all he gives her before heading off, and I have to hide a smile.

Hosea returns with Jed. A Black man with a soft voice and a kind smile, Hosea inspects the canvas and pronounces himself satisfied. Caroline waves over two more workers to haul it to his workshop, then sends the driver on his way.

How capably she handles all of it impresses me. Selling Girl Scout cookies is the closest I’ve ever come to running anything, and even that felt like a lot. Caroline logs the delivery in a thick ledger, then offers to show me the rest of the shipyard, and I say yes right away.

Two men are working an enormously long saw through a tree trunk when she takes me over, slicing it into planks while one of them stands waist-deep in a pit to work the blade from below. It looks like grueling work. I’d never really considered how hard a job like that is without power tools.

Pointing toward a half-finished hull across the yard, I bring up what Mrs. Abbott said about building a gunboat for the navy. Caroline confirms it proudly, adding that the navy is counting on them to get it done.

Mr. Tate walks over with a glint in his eye before I can ask any of my hundred other questions. Now that the sailcloth’s arrived, he wonders whether we’d like to take the skiff out while the wind’s still good. I have no idea what a skiff even is, but something tells me they’re talking about sailing. And sailing on Lake Ontario in some tiny wooden boat sounds like my worst nightmare.