“They’re back there. Look closely and you can see their wake.”
Mason immediately grasped the situation and ordered the crew to drop all but the foresails. The triangular sails would give us enough headway to steer and were capable of sailing at all aspects except directly into the wind. “They’re likely to be on us within the hour. We should come about before they can see us.”
“Aye,” Mason said, and called out the orders.
With most of our canvas lashed to the spars it was a slow maneuver but, for our plan, I preferred stealth to speed. Finally, the ships were bow to bow. There was no indication that we had been seen and I could feel the tension build as the gap between us closed. Rhames went from man to man explaining the signals he would use. Hand gestures would be of no use on the dark deck and even more invisible below. Instead, he used a clicking sound he made with his tongue. The idea was for each man to repeat it to the next.
“The men and guns are ready,” Rhames whispered, “If the damned Scotts don’t bugger up the signal.”
“Small arms?”
Even in the darkness I could see his smile.
“Bet that bastard first mate has the key.” He left to retrieve it.
I only hoped he would do so quietly. Mason and I stood by the helm, watching as the wake of the ship behind us signaled her approach. There was still no sign we had been spotted when I asked Mason to drop whatever sail was left. Confident we were on a collision course, the sails, though small, could still reflect light.
We were adrift and at the mercy of the seas, but there was no other course. Mason had calculated the current and assured me that we would crab to the side as the ship approached. As it was, our bow pulpits would meet. Bracing myself for the coming carnage, I found Rhames and told him to prepare.
He had two pistols and fresh, clean steel in his belt, clearly ready for action. “Sink’em, take their masts down. Whatever you have to do. Use the small arms across the rails, but we can’t afford to be boarded,” I told him. I had no idea what numbers we faced and a fight on our deck in the dark of night could go either way.
Looking around, I realized Blue was still below with the captain. “I’m going after Blue.”
“Bugger’s good help in a fight,” Rhames said.
The ship was so quiet I could hear my footfalls as I climbed down the stairs and made my way to the captain’s cabin. Dismissing the man at the door with directions to find Rhames, I entered the cabin.
“This character of yours is quite interesting.”
Blue sat in a chair across the table, smiling. “We’re coming up on the pirate ship, or she’s actually coming up on us,” I explained our tactic to the captain.
“Makes sense. We’ve not got the fastest ship in the fleet.”
She was considerably slower before we careened her, but she was still an old, heavy ship. Another captain on another ship might discard ballast to lighten her in an attempt to pick up a few knots, but our cargo was a bit more valuable than stone.
“I’ll be needing Blue. You’re welcome to come on deck or ride it out here. Either way, we’ll know soon enough.”
The captain got up and tested his foot. I could see the pain in his face as he took his first step, but he seemed to be able to walk and followed me up to the deck. As soon as we felt the fresh air on our faces, we could hear the other ship moving through the water. Hurrying to the binnacle, I left the captain to make his own way, then thought better of it and sent a man back to help him. If we escaped the pirates we still needed him to gain access to the harbor in Havana.
Just as I reached the binnacle, I heard the first click. The deck was soon awash in the sound, and a second later, the cannon on our port side fired. The brief flash of light from the powder gave me a few seconds to watch as the unsuspecting ship was broadsided. Before I could evaluate the cannonball’s effectiveness, thick smoke overwhelmed us, but it didn’t obscure the screams of injured men and the crash as the other ship’s mast fell.
Chapter 30
I’d been in enough battles to know anything can happen and the outcome is seldom what you’d planned. In this case, I couldn’t have been happier. With one broadside the battle seemed to be over. Their mast had come down, of that I was sure. Whether the ship had sunk or not, I didn’t know or care. She was in no condition to follow us, and after likely being swept north and east, would be a victim of the Gulf Stream’s quick current.
Worried about retaliation, Mason had laid on all sail as soon as the shots had been fired and we were moving quickly toward safety. The mood about the ship was good, including the captain, who brought a private bottle from his cabin that he passed around between Rhames, Mason, and I. Before Rhames could get his fill, and under the disapproving eye of the captain, I walked amongst the crew sharing the brandy with them.
“That’s an expensive bottle to be passing around,” the captain said, when I returned.
“If not for the men, we wouldn’t be drinking it,” I said, handing the remnants to Rhames, who downed it in one gulp. The subject wasn’t worthy of an argument that would sour the mood, and I walked away, ending any discussion of the matter.
Time has a way of standing still during conflict and when I saw sky turn dark purple, and then the thin line of dawn on the horizon, I was surprised. After relieving the lookout, thanking him again for his focus, I stayed aloft. For all their bravado, pirates could be a fearful lot and many were scared of the waters we sailed on, as well as the height of the masthead. My size and agility had me climbing the rigging at a young age. Even as captain, with my own cabin, I felt more at peace up there. The wind brushing against my skin rarely failed to put a smile on my face.
In the growing light, I studied the water behind us, confirming with the aid of the glass what my naked eye saw—nothing. As I put the glass down, the bell rang signaling the morning watch and I was soon relieved. Climbing down, I went to the binnacle to check on our progress and reported seeing no sign of the enemy ship.
“Reckon we’ll be in sight of land around noon. Enter the harbor on the evening tide,” a bleary-eyed Mason said.
I could see he had been up all night, as had I, and needing him alert to negotiate the entrance to the harbor, relieved him for a few hours rest. After a thorough briefing of our heading and course, as well as the conditions and weather—most of which I knew—he reluctantly headed below. The deck was quiet, with only the men on watch present. Wanting to have a fresh and alert crew when we entered Havana, I ordered the morning to be split into two dog-watches. The two-hour shift would allow all the men at least some rest.
The morning passed without incident or sign of the captain. As Mason had predicted, the peaks of the inland mountains appeared as the second watch ended. Mason took back command of the ship and I headed below to visit the captain. It was past time he committed to our plan.
Pounding on the door, I realized my mistake when there was no answer. The lever on the handle turned, but the door refused me. He had thrown the bolt. I had an inclination what he was about, but there was also the chance his sickness had gotten the better of him. After knocking for another minute, I stepped back and with my good leg kicked high on the door. The bolt snapped, allowing me entry.
The first thing I saw was the empty bottles scattered on the floor. The table was a mess of spilled wine, and laying half on the bed and half on the floor was the captain. It took a forceful shove to elicit any response from him, and that was only a twisted scowl and some words muttered in Spanish. Disgust overwhelmed me, as did the stink of him, and I stepped out of the room, glad for the cleaner air of the passageway.
Approaching the harbor under Spanish colors would allow us entry, but with the original crew chained in the hold and no sign of the captain, if we were boarded there was bound to be trouble. I needed him awake and presentable. Leaving the door ajar to air the stench from the cabin, I went back on deck and found Blue.
“The captain’s in his cups.”
He giggled, no
t understanding the gravity of the situation. Not a drinker, he enjoyed an occasional pipe of tobacco or the weed they grew in Jamaica. The escapades of the crew when drink was abundant, especially Rhames and the other pirates, was a source of amusement to him. Reminding him that Lucy’s life depended on the captain’s behavior over the next few hours sobered him.
“Leave him to me,” Blue said.
I ordered one of the freedmen to go with him, with directions to bathe and dress the captain.
“What time do you think we’ll make port?” I asked Mason.
“Sometime around sunset. The rate we’re going, we’ll have to wait outside the harbor for the flood tide.”
“Let’s ease off a bit.” I explained about the captain’s condition. “If we can reach an anchorage as it’s getting dark, we can likely avoid a visit until morning.” I knew the warden would get word of our arrival from the lookouts at the fort. A fast horse would alert him before we reached the inner harbor. Again, darkness would be our friend.
“How do you intend to get the women back?” he asked.
With everything that’d happened over the last few days, I hadn’t given it much thought. My original plan was to pull into port with a load of treasure; now we had the single gold bar I had brought to the surface and what lay buried in the bilge. We were on a personal errand for Blue and I. I’d need the blessing of the crew to dip into our reserves.
Leaving the helm, I went in search of Rhames to ask his opinion. Having him on my side usually was a sure sign that the crew would follow.
Chapter 31
We slipped through the pass shortly after sunset and found an anchorage just outside of the inner harbor. Mason called out for the rode to be secured after allowing for only short scope—in case we needed a quick exit. Fortunately, it was a pleasant night and in twenty feet of water, the normal eighty feet of rode would have been safe, but with the watch already doubled in case we had any unwanted visitors, we settled on half that. The short length of chain and south wind would give us an easy exit in the event of trouble.
Just as the ship settled back, I saw the captain emerge from the companionway.
“Fine evening,” he said, as he approached. “Thought I saw the forts as we entered.”
“Right, then. Your health looks to have improved.” I doubted he could have walked on his own earlier.
“Your man is a miracle worker.” He took a piece of the bark Blue used for pain from his mouth.
“Glad it worked out for you.” With his present mood, I thought it was the best time to press for his cooperation. “What do you plan to do with the mutineers?”
He gave me a queer look, and I thought for a second I had overplayed my hand. Rhames, who had been lurking in the background, came up behind me. Hoping the captain didn’t see me do it, I gave him a low hand-signal that everything was alright. He saw it and backed off just a bit, but stayed within earshot.
“Hang,” he said, cavalierly.
I still wasn’t sure if he was talking about us or his crew. “There’s the matter of our women.”
“I expected that was your aim, bringing the ship back here. Gutsy move, that.”
I relaxed slightly, thinking he had been toying with me.
“There is the matter of the treasure.”
Recovering it had been our original deal, which we had essentially failed, but we still had Shayla, plus my share of what lay in the keel, which was near half. Add Lucy and Blue’s share, and it was close to seventy percent. I would gladly give all mine, and I guessed Blue would agree. “We did recover some,” I lied.
He removed the bark from his mouth, spit out a chunk, and replaced it. “That makes things a bit more interesting.”
“Let me get the ship settled and I’ll have it brought up.” The glitter of gold always helped.
From his expression as he surveyed the harbor I had the feeling he was glad to be home, and alive. It might not take as much gold as I first expected.
“I’ll be in my cabin—unless there’s too much to fit.”
His voice was laced with hopeful sarcasm, “A sample and accounting, then,” I teased, as he walked away.
Once he was clear of the companionway I called Blue over. Our discussion was short, but I needed to confirm I could offer his and Lucy’s stake. Gathered around the binnacle, I quietly told Rhames and Mason, as the old crew was within earshot, of my willingness to part with our treasure. It was really a matter of courtesy, as each man knew they could have their share had they requested it. It was the next part that worried me.
“If it’s not enough, I’d like your permission to use whatever we have. I’ll of course guarantee it and pay some interest.”
“Your word is all I need. That and enough for a bit of a party next time we find a port that’ll take us,” Rhames said.
“Mason?”
“Whatever you need.”
I could tell he offered it reluctantly, but I wouldn’t press him in front of the crew. “Right, then.” I gave orders to have a third brought up in two chests.
Extracting hundreds of pounds of gold from deep in the bowels of the ship took some time, and it was close to an hour later when I stood in front of the captain’s door with half a dozen men and three chests. Nodding to the freedman again who was charged with the captain’s wellbeing, he knocked on the door and I entered. The men followed behind, setting the chests on the floor.
Though he had appeared sober on deck, the captain was again in his cups. Bringing the bottle to his lips, he drank deeply before setting it down. Ribbons of liquid ran down from his mouth to his neck, landing on his already saturated blouse.
“That’s what you’ve got, then?” he slurred.
His condition reminded me that he was not a man to be trusted, which would make negotiation more difficult. I thought about leaving it until the morning, but it might be noon before he rose on his own. We were in plain sight of the forts and I fully expected a customs boat just after first light. This had to be decided now.
I had a feeling where he was headed. “And another like it for yourself.”
“We didn’t find it, did we?”
I waited to see how he played his hand, wondering if my ruse had failed. But would it matter? I gave him a look that could go either way.
“Gold is gold. I suppose I shouldn’t be too particular as to its origin?”
“We get our women and the ship,” I confirmed the terms of the deal.
He picked up the bottle and drank with the same messy result, then handed it to me. I knew it would be a mistake to rebuff him. Taking the bottle I took a swig, spitting as much back as I could before returning it to him. We said goodnight, and I headed back to deck.
With Shayla so close, I doubted I could sleep and sent one of the watches to bed. Climbing to my spot on the top spar, I stared out at Havana. Looking back over our stern at the city, my senses were inflamed with the lights, smells, and sounds. After spending most of the last dozen years at sea or on Gasparilla Island, city life was unfamiliar to me, but enticing. I could almost understand why Rhames and his men were always anxious to reach a friendly port.
The city was alive, but the harbor was generally quiet, with only a few skiffs running back and forth to the boats at anchor. We were close to getting Shayla and Lucy back, and I realized I had no further plan than to escape the Caribbean—the island-speckled sea that held us prisoner to our pasts. Shayla and I had agreed the only way to a legitimate life was to exit its waters. The plan was not without obstacles, though.
Our vessel, though old and slow, was generally seaworthy once her pumps, which we had cannibalized for the dive operations, were restored. Men had sailed worse vessels. Funds were low, but when we made it across to the isthmus, there were hundreds of miles of deserted coastline where we could hunt or fish, though these were uncharted waters. One last bit of business might solve both of those problems: Harp.
While I stood watch, I pondered the question of whether it was piracy to pirate
a pirate, for that is what I intended to do, if we could find him. Slowly, my mind started to drift and I jerked myself awake before I fell asleep. Climbing down to the deck I sought out Mason, both to see what his reluctance had been earlier, and his opinion on Harp’s whereabouts. I expected him to be in his bunk or amongst the men scattered on the deck enjoying the fresh air, but I found him at the place where I should have started my search.
Studying the chart spread out on the binnacle, he pulled in a long toke on his pipe, held the tobacco for a second, and released it into the humid night air.
“You never smoke when we are underway, do you?” I asked him.
“Nothing’ll do a ship in faster than a fire.” He looked up at me. “I’m expecting we’ll need to be making a quick exit.”
It was a statement, one that bothered me, for it always seemed that we were on the run from one thing or another. “I expect.”
“In any event,” he drew in again and, touching the map, moved his finger around the eastern tip of the island. Blowing the smoke out, he paused. “It’ll be more miles, but for most of the way we’ll have the current. Might have to beat into the trades if they hold till we get around the point, but it’ll be smooth sailing from there.”
He’d said it with conviction, as if he had studied every option, which he had.
“Right, then.”
“And, if you want that Englishman and his ship, they’ll be here.” His finger landed on the two smaller Cayman Islands.
Chapter 32
Of my crew, there were two men and two women who I never questioned, and Mason was one of them. The others were Blue, Lucy, and Shayla. Rhames and his lot would, as pirates do, make decisions on a whim. I was coming to know and like the freedmen, but trust took time and temper; more of both than our short time together allowed. The Scots appeared to have blended in, but I was far from trusting them.
Uncharted Waters Page 14