Border Station

Because the Mountain Pass Border Station was perched on an escarpment, Captain Willie moored the Sandflea some distance away in a relatively open area. The area where the airship was moored was quite small and the Sandflea bobbed in the local air currents hard enough to nearly hit the trees once in a while. He was the only one to leave the airship and make the short hike to the Border Station.

The Captain grumbled slightly to himself as he made his way down a footpath to the Station. Because the Blue Ridge Mountains are ancient, their peaks are rounded and well-worn. The trees here were mostly oak and hickory and pine and their leaves formed a thick coating on the ground. Unfortunately, copperhead snakes also liked the area and easily blended in with the leaves. The woods are inhabited by black bears, red wolves and mountain lions, none of which our dauntless captain cared to meet while on foot! Fortunately Captain Willie arrived at the Border Station unscathed but out of breath.

**************
Note: I found these photographs at Wikicommons and do NOT own the copyrights to them!
First picture:
({{Information |Description={{en|1=A backcountry campsite at Deep Gap in the Black Mountains of North Carolina, in the southeastern United States.}} |Source=Own work by uploader |Author=Brian Stansberry |Date=5/28/2007 |Permission= |other_)
Second picture:
(== Summary == Reconstructed Fort Randolph, Point Pleasant, West Virginia, photographed 2005. == Licensing == {{GFDL-user-en|Kevin Myers}}

Carolina Foodways: Akara

Black-eyed Peas (aka Cowpeas Vigna unguiculata) originated in Africa and were brought to North America during the slave trade. Slave ship captains saw that more of their human cargo survived the Middle Passage when fed their traditional foods and provisioned accordingly. The best source for information on African foodways in North and South America is Judith Carney's work:
In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa's Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World (2009) and
Black Rice: the African Origins of Rice Cultivation in the Americas (2001).

The first time I served this recipe to a guest he exclaimed that he thought people only ate Black-eyed Peas in the American South. I responded by asking "how do you think they got here?"

AKARA (Black-eyed Pea Balls)
(serves 4)
1 cup fresh (or soaked until they are soft) black-eye peas
1 egg
1/2 of a small onion, finely chopped
1/2 tsp chili pepper
1/2 salt
? wheat flour
oil for frying.
Lazy soul that I am, I just toss all the above into a bowl and puree it with a blender (or you could use a food processor). I add a bit of wheat flour as thickener to the dough because the presoaked black-eyed peas can be a bit soggy. Remember, you want a thick dough! Fry in oil at 190 C (375 F) degrees until golden brown, then drain on paper towels.

I took this recipe from The Africa News Cookbook: African Cooking for Western Kitchens (1985) so it is far less spicy than in Nigeria. Feel free to increase the pepper; I do! The recipe book says this the above amount serves 4 but I love these so much that I multiply the amounts by 3 or 4 times with no problem.

Time to Go

As he climbed back through the Sandflea’s hatch Captain Willie’s crew peppered him with questions.

“What did she say? What’s going on? You were gone for two hours! What did y’all talk about all that time?”

“Just one damn minute here! Let me catch my breath will ya?” Captain Willie shook his head. “There’s something goin’ on but doesn’t look like anyone knows. Just have to see what they say at the Border Station. Everyone to your posts, we're not wastin' any more time here!" He snapped.

Captain Ross. . .continued

Araminta Ross continued, “Something’s afoot alright, but especially just here at the northern border. Or do you really think that the King Jesus just happened to be in the neighbourhood?” Captain Ross narrowed her eyes. “We’ve been playing hide-and-seek with them for weeks. Wish I knew what they are up to.”
“You know the Cherokee don’t like to volunteer information to outsiders. I doubt they’ll say anything more to me than to you.”
“You just use some of that famous Captain Willie charm on them and see if they don’t warm-up to you.” Captain Ross stood up and offered her right hand. “Good luck to you and your crew.” She waved Captain Willie out of the alcove, taking a notebook out of one of the multitude of pockets on her tunic-dress as she turned away from him.

The tiny man who had guided Captain Willie to Captain Ross’ alcove mysteriously reappeared despite not having been summoned (at least not by any method that Willie knew). Just to break the silence Captain Willie made an attempt at conversation.
“What’s your name and are you doin’ here?”
“This way out,” gestured the small man and turned away. He glanced back over his shoulder and said, “They call me Little James. Come on now! Down this latter.”
“This ain’t the same way we came in.”
“No, it’s quicker. We’ve outa here as soon as you are off this airship.”

After navigating a bewildering maze of bulkheads, cargo nets hanging from the ceiling and boxes containing godknowswhat, Captain Willie was back at the hatch and heading down the rope-ladder.

Repercussions, 1712-1717

"Those who fell victim to the slavers were usually shipped to distant colonies to spend their days laboring for others with no hope of returning to their families and homes. Not that they passively accepted their condition: in several colonies the variously termed "Southern" or "Spanish" or "Carolina" Indians earned a reputation as troublemakers and instigators, leading several provincial governments to bar their importation. Noth that it mattered: in a few years South Carolina so alienated its [Indian] allies that they banned together in a pan-Indian movement that ended the large-scale slaving of native peoples."
(pages 257-258)
Gallay, Alan in The Indian Slave Trade: The Rise of the English Empire in the American South 1670-1717. Yale University Press, 2002.

Captain Ross

The small man guided Captain Willie across the deck and into a tiny alcove behind a hanging curtain where Captain Ross was waiting for him.

Araminta Ross was a no-nonsense woman and this fact showed in her clothing as well. Her hair was neatly confined by a mustard-yellow printed cotton scarf. Her tunic-dress buttoned up the front, its rich wine red a complement to her beautiful, brown skin. Her eyes glistened with intelligence as well as a pent-up fierceness. Indeed her tiny stature could hardly contain her enormous presence. She rose from her seat as Captain Willie entered the room (more of a cubbyhole really since even a large airship has limited space) and motioned him towards the only other fold-out chair. It was attached to the wall with hinges and folded-down into a seat when a latch was unhooked.

A crewmember carried in a tray containing dinner for two as well as pewter dishes instead of the more commonplace tin ones used on the Sandflea. He unfolded the legs of the tray so that it formed a little table and placed it between the two captains. Dinner consisted of a stew of pork, rice, black-eyed peas and celery seasoned with vinegar and hot pepper.

“I thought you might appreciate a hot meal and a chance to catch your breath.”

Captain Ross ate her dinner quickly and methodically in contrast to Captain Willie who savoured every bite of a good meal. She glanced down at her empty plate and patted her lips with a napkin.

“What was your man carrying?”
Willie shrugged. “Just timetables and such for goods drop-off, mostly saltpetre. Old Toby is a stoner dude but he’s usually able to get across the border without being caught. After reporting in to the Border Station we’re on our way down to Charleston for major maintenance and looking to add some additional crew members.”
“Watch yourself and don’t even think about flying anywhere near the border. Those Virginians will be watching and waiting for you to slip-up. A rogue air current blows you off course and next thing you know, you are far enough into Virginia that they have the excuse they need to blow you out of the sky!”
“I know what I’m doin’,” answered Captain Willie mildly.
“Oh, I am certain that you do!” chuckled Captain Ross. “I’ve heard more than a few tales about you and your crew.”
Captain Willie just smiled, albeit a bit smugly.

Aboard the King Jesus

With the US airship safely out of Carolina airspace, the captains of the two CFS airships could meet in person. Captain Willie climbed down the rope ladder extending from the forward hatch. While still hanging onto the ladder, he fired his grapple gun at the matching rope ladder hanging from the King Jesus. One of the hooks caught the rope and in a flash he had pulled it over. Through a series of deft acrobatic moves worthy of a master trapeze artist, he transferred himself onto the King Jesus’ ladder and scrambled up it and into the open hatch. He was fit and strong and could easily pull himself through its opening.


Once onboard, Captain Willie was met by a small, dark man with an enormous set of dreads sprouting in all directions. He had enormous pearl earings in each ear as well as a gold incisor that flashed when he spoke. Captain Willie’s ensemble was scarcely less colourful since he was wearing his usual get-up of purple trousers, a brightly patterned paisley silk shirt and brocade vest. In contrast to the colourfulness of the rest of his attire, his Indian-made moccasins were quite conservative. Their soft, flexible soles were more suited to climbing rope ladders. In contrast to his flamboyant greeter, his head was clean-shaven and he wore no jewelry.

The tiny man viewed Captain Willie somewhat suspiciously.
“Captain Ross wants to talk with you.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.” Willie grimaced to himself. Why state the obvious?
“Let’s get on with it then.”

As they climbed the metal ladder to the command deck, Captain Willie had plenty of time to reflect on the differences between the rough and tumble ship he captained and the fleet’s flagship. Naturally the ship was larger, although it was still quite crowded due to the supplies she carried as well as having a larger crew.