by John Adams alias Alexander Smith
October 18, 1814
Thursday has given me most disagreeable intelligence i have been sorely afeared for many a year nigh on a quarter of a century the lad tripped like a billygoat down the sheer face of the rocks with his customary expedition and warmth of heart that he might hail them from his canoe theres no anchorage off Pitcairn unless youve converted to the one true faith
atop Look Out Ridge above the village Adamstown five houses ringed round by coconut trees i can make out His Majestys two men o war warping closer to our precipices of black rock their officers will labour like lubbers from The Landing Place up the Hill of Difficulty to our village green one hundred feet above sea level due north a track as tortuous as Quintals mind
it were my intention to erect a simple stone morai amid my groves of orange and lemon and banana trees alas i shall end my days impeached and strung up from a yardarm at
nay i cannot expect the Kings pardon i own i was wild once Reckless Jack theyd call me i am a criminal of the deepest dye black as the sand in
what weighs heaviest with me is how all my messmates dreamed Otaheite as the Garden of Eden but unbeknownst to us the serpent hid under the glossy leaf of the breadfruit the Devil tempted us tars with his most comely sirens hair jet as a ravens wing with the fragrance of tefano eyes that captured twinkling stars skin smooth and soft to our rough hands a brunette complexion most complaisant to the eye joyous laughter never ending so natural like giggly children their perfeckt white teeth sparkled like pearls one breast always bare in robes of tapa bark how could we withstand such female allurements such antic tricks
in truth we couldnt keep the Devil out of our heads i axe you how could we not be tempted when young virgins danced the timorodee so wantonly as to incite our desire every man jack of us save Bligh damn his eyes took a native wahine for a tayo i formed an attachment with my Jenny we tars performed the rites of Venus swyngeing belly pieces without shame in the shade of the banyan tree or by an emerald lagoon often in publick we soon forgot the poxy whores of
aye we soon forgot the maintenance of the Bounty Bligh ordered me twelve lashes for not standing watch by the cutter for the indians were thieves and pilferers always pinching our iron tools and nails even the quadrant
yet these smiling natives were friends that spared nothing no longer did we live off ships biscuit made from pea flour and bone dust crawling with weevils and maggots and salt beef you could carve into likenesses but suckling pig and yams figs and palm hearts hogs feasts victuals fit for Farmer George
Bligh insolent nagger whod erupt in blazes like the volcano on Tofua made us sweat for it though till Mr Christian put an end to his high and mighty airs we showed him the Friendly Isles if im not mistook his longboat that was top heavy and leaky as a sieve shouldve gone down in the briny or the indians or sharks shouldve done for him
i judged Pitcairn my salvation from the King’s Navy this island furnished manna to the Israelites man should eat his bread by the sweat of his brow but we nothing lacked turning up the soil did not incommode us i was partial to a drop of liquor then for nigh on three years we were content in our wooden houses our groves of fruit trees then Morgan stirred the coals demanded one of the native wives what followed was wicked plotting and great jealousies refusal by the natives to obey orders murder most vicious the six toutous we brought from Otaheite ran amok we lost five souls including Mr Christian Menalee discharged his musket even at me his friend the ball passed through my shoulder and the flesh of my neck Paurai bless her pleaded mercy and nursed my leaden fever six long year passed me and Ned Young felled that rake-jakes Quintal with a hatchet in self defence you understand i was filled with remorse desperate black shame
William McKoy was next to go mad he used to distil spirits from the root of the tea tree in Bountys copper kettle the sot fastened a rock to his neck and threw himself over the cliff below Mr Christians cave i vowed never to touch grog no more
one night i was blessed with a visitation from the Archangel Michael he attacked me with a dart for my malingering course i could scarce read or write me being a cockney orphan from the poorhouse hard by Wapping Old Stairs Ned Young who was sinking with the asthma undertook my instruction rummaging through the old chests taken off the Bounty before she was broken up i found her Bible and Prayer Book
i reared up the children on the Ten Commandments read the church service every Sunday would to God i had atoned for my sins but i durst not expect His most gracious protection
now heres sighting of the Kings uniform the officers blue coat greatly alarms me so be it my course is nearly run would that i could take Purais hand in marriage in the eyes of God i fall on my knees and ask Gods forgiveness teach me to serve Thee better than ever i have done before that i may be fitter to dwell in heaven Amen
Michael Small November 15-29, 2003
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