popular person on the ship. Woe be unto any man who mistreated her because he would be facing the vengeance of 200 adopted “older brothers” within the hour. That’s not a pretty thought on a ship with lots of out-of-the-way dark places.
This time, however, the men pretended to be suddenly busy with something else—anything else—when she came on deck. They knew what she was carrying, and they knew why the instruments needed to be sharpened. They just preferred not thinking about it, that’s all.
When the armorer was done, she came over to Walker who was standing by the larboard rail. “Mr. Walker, may I have a word with you?” she said rather sternly.
“Of course, Susan. How are you doing?”
She ignored his question. “Do you know what’s in this chest?”
“Yes, I saw the armorer sharpening them. They’re surgical instruments... some rather nasty-looking saws and knives.”
Susan nodded. “And do you know what they’re for?”
Walker was getting a bit disturbed. Why is she talking to me like I am a child, he thought. “Yes, I do. If we get into a battle men are going to be hurt, some very seriously. Some will have to be operated on, legs removed and such.”
“Uh-huh. And precisely who do you think will be wielding these instruments if and when that comes to pass?”
It was at that point that the enormity of Hudson’s words came back to him: “...and you will also be the Ship’s Surgeon.”
“Holy Mother of God,” he muttered. “Susan, you’re not suggesting that I... I mean, look, I have no training, no experience at all in... I couldn’t possibly...” Walker was unable to get out a coherent sentence.
“Mr. Walker, like it or not, you are the Ship’s Surgeon. Now, I’ve been doing the sick calls and all the other work ever since you were appointed. I don’t mind that, but you’re going to have to start pulling your weight.”
“No, you don’t understand, Susan. You see I am NOT a physician. All right, I know a little about anatomy, sure, but that doesn’t qualify me to take care of the sick and wounded, and it certainly doesn’t qualify me to perform operations.”
Susan looked at Walker for a long moment, cocked her head and said: “Do I somehow look like I went to Oxford?”
“No, but...”
“But nothing. I was made assistant to a surgeon who hasn’t had two back-to-back days of sobriety since I’ve known him. Men were suffering, and in some cases dying, because of his incompetence. So, do you know what I did?”
Walker shook his head dumbly.
“I learned, Mr. Walker. I learned .” And, with that, she spun on her heels and proceeded below to the infirmary.
* * *
Walker’s routine changed once again. When Smith was off-watch, Walker was with him learning at least something about both the practical and theoretical aspects of seamanship. When Smith was on-watch, either he was with Susan Whitney learning the practical aspects of medical care, or he was reading the many medical textbooks his predecessor had brought aboard. In his private time, what little of it there was, he thought about his predicament.
In many ways, the easiest thing to learn was the medical side. In 18th Century Britain, it was not required to have a college degree in order to practice medicine. Indeed, you could do so without any formal training whatsoever. Some of the universities, most notably Aberdeen, would award the M.D. degree upon payment of the appropriate fees. Attending classes was completely optional.
So, Walker didn’t have far to go to become at least as good as some of those who were, on land, considered full-fledged practicing
This time, however, the men pretended to be suddenly busy with something else—anything else—when she came on deck. They knew what she was carrying, and they knew why the instruments needed to be sharpened. They just preferred not thinking about it, that’s all.
When the armorer was done, she came over to Walker who was standing by the larboard rail. “Mr. Walker, may I have a word with you?” she said rather sternly.
“Of course, Susan. How are you doing?”
She ignored his question. “Do you know what’s in this chest?”
“Yes, I saw the armorer sharpening them. They’re surgical instruments... some rather nasty-looking saws and knives.”
Susan nodded. “And do you know what they’re for?”
Walker was getting a bit disturbed. Why is she talking to me like I am a child, he thought. “Yes, I do. If we get into a battle men are going to be hurt, some very seriously. Some will have to be operated on, legs removed and such.”
“Uh-huh. And precisely who do you think will be wielding these instruments if and when that comes to pass?”
It was at that point that the enormity of Hudson’s words came back to him: “...and you will also be the Ship’s Surgeon.”
“Holy Mother of God,” he muttered. “Susan, you’re not suggesting that I... I mean, look, I have no training, no experience at all in... I couldn’t possibly...” Walker was unable to get out a coherent sentence.
“Mr. Walker, like it or not, you are the Ship’s Surgeon. Now, I’ve been doing the sick calls and all the other work ever since you were appointed. I don’t mind that, but you’re going to have to start pulling your weight.”
“No, you don’t understand, Susan. You see I am NOT a physician. All right, I know a little about anatomy, sure, but that doesn’t qualify me to take care of the sick and wounded, and it certainly doesn’t qualify me to perform operations.”
Susan looked at Walker for a long moment, cocked her head and said: “Do I somehow look like I went to Oxford?”
“No, but...”
“But nothing. I was made assistant to a surgeon who hasn’t had two back-to-back days of sobriety since I’ve known him. Men were suffering, and in some cases dying, because of his incompetence. So, do you know what I did?”
Walker shook his head dumbly.
“I learned, Mr. Walker. I learned .” And, with that, she spun on her heels and proceeded below to the infirmary.
* * *
Walker’s routine changed once again. When Smith was off-watch, Walker was with him learning at least something about both the practical and theoretical aspects of seamanship. When Smith was on-watch, either he was with Susan Whitney learning the practical aspects of medical care, or he was reading the many medical textbooks his predecessor had brought aboard. In his private time, what little of it there was, he thought about his predicament.
In many ways, the easiest thing to learn was the medical side. In 18th Century Britain, it was not required to have a college degree in order to practice medicine. Indeed, you could do so without any formal training whatsoever. Some of the universities, most notably Aberdeen, would award the M.D. degree upon payment of the appropriate fees. Attending classes was completely optional.
So, Walker didn’t have far to go to become at least as good as some of those who were, on land, considered full-fledged practicing
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