The Rescue

by Perry Comer

  Stinger chose to set sail just as all hands were called to witness punishment aboard Hornet. Powell was following Donland's instruction to salvage material from the wrecked Jacket. Jackson had reported that all that could be done to repair the ketch had been done. More planking, tar, and oakum were needed to complete the work. Men could have been sent across the island to the wreck but without boats, the men would be hazarded by sharks. Stinger would be able to anchor in close, perhaps along Jacket's transom.

  Donland walked the length of the deck to the bowsprit. He studied the bracing and planking where the forward two guns sat. The first nine and a carriage were already sitting on Hornet's deck. The second would be brought over before nightfall. He had considered leaving the battery until after the ketch was repaired. The added protection of a shore battery would ensure that other vessels were kept at a distance. But, he decided against it in favor of being able to set sail at a moment’s notice. The extra weight of iron would improve Hornet’s fighting ability.

  The bell clanged eight times signaling supper. There was the usual stamp of feet as hungry men prepared for their meal. A heavy layer of gray cloud hid the sun and a stiff eastern wind blew giving relief from the heat. Hornet rolled in the swells and tugged at the aft anchor.

  “Gale, do you suppose Mister Jackson?” Donland asked.

  Jackson put a hand to his chest and rubbed the old knife wound. “Aye, a bit of a blow so says my old bones.”

  “We'll go to deeper water if the anchors begin to drag,” Donland said.

  “Aye, I'd feel a mite better further from the shore. Makes me skittish,” Jackson confessed.

  “Sea room is a sailor's friend. Coming gales can be seen and enemies kept at a distance. Close quarters and a lee shore bring on gray hair and short lives,” Donland mused.

  Jackson laughed. “Aye, gray hair comes too quickly as it is. The years between are not that great but I appear more than double what there are. Makes my mind give thought to a patch a ground, some turnips or such. Maybe a fat lass with some brats. Man has to give it thought on occasion.”

  Donland leaned across the railing and ran his eyes along the length of Hornet's hull. Barbara, a house and a son had crossed his mind while he had waiting in the darkness for Stinger and Dolphin to appear on the horizon. To awake in a bed beside her was not an unpleasant thought.

  “Sad to say, you'd tire of it in a fortnight, truth be told,” Donland said as he stood erect.

  Jackson did not immediately reply. When he spoke his was a mere whisper, “Aye, but a man has to look past today and consider all the tomorrows that may come and the yesterdays he missed.”

  David and Simon came from below, the younger boy carried a biscuit with something smeared on it. Donland and Jackson watched them pass.

  “I've a son,” Jackson said.

  Donland wasn't certain he had heard. “Did you say something about the sun?” he asked.

  Jackson turned and faced him. “I said I've a son. She told me before I came aboard.”

  “Surely, not your first,” Donland teased.

  “The first that I've been told. I haven't laid eyes on him as yet but if God grant me enough tomorrows to return, I'll claim him and set to do right by him.”

  “That patch of ground?” Donland asked.

  “Aye, that I will do. The boy will need a place to belong.”

  “And what of the mother?”

  “The lass, she sees to the tables at the inn. She'll be needing more'n that to raise the boy. I've a bit laid up, enough for that patch of ground near the city and a bit more so she'd not be leaving the boy. I gave her money there on the quay, Mister Jones has the rest on account.”

  “Noble of you Mister Jackson. Will you marry her?”

  “Aye, the boy needs a proper name and she's fair smitten with me.”

  “Are you not old enough to be her father?”

  Jackson chuckled and said, “I think not, she'd be sore displaced if there were no more babes to bear.”

  “You best consider leaving the King's service and become a pirate for the King's coin will not be enough.”

  “True enough, but I've a good captain who'll earn me prize money enough to live like a king,” Jackson countered.

  Donland was suddenly wary. In a whisper he asked, “Is there a word in the wind as to Hornet's intentions?”

  Jackson's good humor left him. He nodded and said only, “Monroe.”

  Donland massaged his chin. If word had reached Jackson's ears, the whole company would be infected with the gossip. There was nothing to be gained by saying anything to dissuade the talebearers; he chose another tack.

  He stepped away from the railing and moved closer to the wheel. He wanted the helmsman to hear his words. “We'll remain anchored here for five or more days then sail for Savannah. Yon ketch will fetch a good price in that port due to the shortage of merchantmen after fighting off the French and losing so many vessels to them.”

  Jackson's face showed amusement. “Aye, Captain, I could do with a little gold to go with my coppers.”

  “To spend on your many sons,” Donland said in jest.

  Jackson was mute.

  Donland smiled and said, “I shall go below, I've more important matters to attend.”

  Donland waited in the shade watching Stinger's boat struggling against the high swells. Somewhere to the southeast, a large storm blew causing large swells and enormous waves to crash onto the beach as loud as thunder. Such a storm would send more than one vessel down into the depths. Hornet was well out in deep water with minimal canvas aloft and a sea anchor. Stinger was a quarter-mile distant lying-to. The ketch was taking a battering as her holds were being pumped. Four hawsers, two aft and two forward held her off the bottom and within the tight confines of a small cove. It had taken all the boats to move her to the cove because of the amount of water inside her hull.

  A mosquito landed on Donland's cheek and he swatted it. The pests were an ever-present pestilence for those living on the land. He preferred the sea.

  The boat he watched surged forward atop a wave and the oarsmen fought to keep the craft from broaching. A man jumped into the white foam and was followed by three others. Together, they hauled the boat through the swallowing water and onto the sand. Powell leaped from the gunnel onto the packed wet sand. Donland slapped at another mosquito.

  “A seaman's sea,” Powell said as he neared Donland.

  “Aye, eddies, and cross-currents to foul the landsmen. Takes a sharp eye and a strong hand to land a boat without floundering her, your men did well,” Donland observed.

  “As I'm sure yours did as well, seeing that you are in one piece and dry,” Powell said while producing a handkerchief. “Hot as Hades,” he declared.

  “Aye, and I've nothing to offer in the way of refreshment but I felt it best if we were away from ears on long necks. Gossip below decks can lose a battle before it begins. What of Stinger, the nines serviceable?”

  “Aye, lashed and ready. But rather than both in the bow I put one forward and one aft. I’d have sweat a lot less had I one aft while that privateer was nipping at my heels. A shot or two would have made him give me more sea-room.”

  “True but if your roles were reversed, you’ve preferred both forward,”

  “Aye, that is so, that is so,” Powell agreed and removed his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead and neck.

  Donland pointed to where the ketch was anchored. “She's sea-worthy and almost ready to sail. I've decided not to put Monroe in command but will have him as first. Richards will remain aboard Hornet. I’ve also decided to do as you suggested and leave the prisoners here to fend for themselves. Better them cutting each other’s throats than ours.”

  “Aye,” Powell agreed and waited for Donland to proceed to what was really on his mind. He knew him well enough to know a plan was being considered; one to recapture the ships lost to the privateer.

  Donland got to it. “I believe it is to our advantage to pursue Monroe’s
suggestion. Those captured officers and crews are of more value than whatever ships are anchored. If opportunity favors us to re-capture one or more of the vessels, then we shall. But, it is my intention to free those who are being held.”

  “A worthy goal,” Powell said and nodded. “If I were one of them, I’d be disappointed and angry had an officer the opportunity and the means to gain my freedom and did not.”

  “That then is the task, freeing those men will take precedence over taking prizes. Lieutenant Jackson will command the ketch and will have as crew the Africans serving aboard Hornet. They’ll not suspect Jackson and his mates as Jackson is not a well man and they will easily discern such. Most of those crewing the ketch speak very little English. They should be able to move about freely.

  “As to the particulars, at dawn, tomorrow Hornet and Stinger will pursue the ketch to the anchorage. The pirates will not fire on her if we send a few balls in her direction. This should provide us the opportunity to look in and having done so, both vessels will tack east and then south around Cape San Juan. Hornet will run in close to shore to spy out a suitable landing for my party to go ashore after night falls. Honest will accompany me. It will take the better part of the day to gain intelligence.”

  “And Stinger?” Powell asked.

  Donland smiled. “At dawn the following day, Stinger and Hornet will approach the anchorage and draw away any Spanish vessels anchored there. At some point, your judgment of the situation, you will part company and continue to lead away any pursuit. If there are no Dons, then you will patrol out of range of the batteries and be ready to assist our escape. I will arrange a signal of some sort for when and where we may be taken off.”

  “You’ll be taking a great risk,” Powell stated.

  “I have confidence that you will rescue me should I be taken,” Donland said and smiled broadly.

  “Aye,” Powell said without humor.

  Donland slapped at another mosquito. Powell appeared to be in thought.

  Powell said, “Sir I think you should consider taking two others, one to linger on the beach to relay signals and a lad to be your runner. A boy would be able to move about more freely than a seaman.”

  “I've considered that and weighed the risks. You think it advisable despite the risks?”

  “Aye, if we are to rescue our people, then what would two more matter should they be captured?”

  “Your reasoning is sound, as always,” Donland said. “I'll take Mister Welles and Mister Porter, he's the master's mate.”

  “A question Isaac and not a criticism,” Powell said using Donland's first name then continued, “You will be ashore and your first will be aboard the ketch, is that wise?”

  Donland appreciated Powell's concern and the use of his name. He smiled broadly and said, “Mister Ashcroft is more than an able seaman and I've no doubt that Mister Dewitt will not mince words if Mister Ashcroft acts with poor judgment.”

  It was Powell's turn to smile. “Aye, he'd have the final word even if it were his last.”

  “Let us be about our duty,” Donland said.

  “You've no boat, shall I ferry you to Hornet?” Powell asked.

  “Aye, that was my intention. I'd not care to stay longer with these vermin sucking me dry.”

  Chapter Nine

  Donland studied the ketch through the glass, to his eye she was a sluggish sailor. Her qualities could probably be improved with additional ballast but as time was short, the four six-pounders and carriages in her hold were all that were available. There had been no need for supplies other than as needed for the short voyage.

  “Signal Captain!” Aldridge reported.

  Donland had seen the signal.

  “Port in sight!” Aldridge said.

  “Aye, Mister Aldridge,” Donland said. He was pleased with Aldridge. The youngster was growing into a fine officer. Another year or two of seasoning and he would be ready to sit for his examination.

  “Mister Aldridge, send to Stinger, make more sail!”

  “Aye Captain,” Aldridge replied and bent the signal he had already prepared onto the line. He hauled up the flags and waited for the reply.

  “Acknowledged Captain!” Aldridge said as he read the signal hoisted above Stinger's deck.

  Donland gauged the distances of each vessel. “Mister Jackson make more sail!”

  “Mister Ashcroft prepare the bow-chaser!” He ordered.

  “We'll give the Dons a good show!” Dewitt mused at Donland's back.

  “Aye, Mister Dewitt, let us pray it is nothing more than a show,” Donland replied to Dewitt. He would not relish abandoning the ketch and Jackson should the Dons have a frigate or two in the roads and ready to respond. The plan hinged on the Dons keeping their frigates at San Juan.

  “Gun ready!” Ashcroft shouted from forward and relayed by Welles standing in the waist.

  “Fire!” Donland shouted and Welles relayed the order.

  The nine-pounder boomed and the black smoke drifted along the deck. It was all for show, the gun had fired a charge without a ball. Donland had calculated it would be necessary to fire at least five shots at the fleeing ketch and as they only had fourteen balls aboard, he chose not to waste one until the ketch neared the anchorage. Ashcroft would not load a ball until ordered to do so.

  Donland turned to face Monroe, “Aloft with you, Mister Monroe, we shall see if your scheme is to bear fruit or no,” Donland said and smiled a wry smile.

  Monroe nodded and removed his hat. He smiled and made a sweeping motion with his hat before shoving it into his shirt. “By your leave, Captain,” he said as he grasped the shroud.

  Stinger was maintaining her distance as she clung to Hornet's starboard quarter. Donland imaged that the two sloops would appear to those aboard the ketch as two hungry wolves bearing down on an elusive rabbit. He only hoped those ashore would view the chase as such.

  He lifted the glass and scanned the small island on the larboard beam. There were no protruding masts and no movement. Training the glass forward beyond the ketch, he was able to make out furled sails but could not determine the size of the vessels. He calculated the distance and the timing required to close with the anchorage. At their pace, they would be near enough to sink the ketch by the time she was under the protection of the batteries. The added sail had not been needed.

  “Mister Ashcroft slackened the main top'sl!” Donland shouted.

  “Aye, Captain!” Ashcroft answered knowing that it was an order that was likely to come. Donland had told him as much. The changes in sail and course were necessary to keep the ketch well ahead of Hornet. Powell had been informed before sailing and would be watching Hornet's sails and course closely.

  “Helm five points to starboard!” Donland barked.

  “Aye Captain, five points starboard!” the helmsman answered.

  Donland half-turned to study Stinger; she matched Hornet's course.

  “Mister Aldridge, send to Stinger to prepare to alter course to larboard,” Donland ordered.

  Five minutes passed before Donland ordered the helm five points to larboard. With slackened sails and the altered course, the ketch was now well ahead of her pursuers. He lifted the glass to his eye and studied the anchorage of Luquillo. There were six or more vessels; all appeared to be small merchantmen. Perhaps Atross was among them but he'd not know until they were closer.

  “Mister Monroe! Do you see her?” Donland shouted up to Monroe.

  “Aye Sir! Close inshore!” Monroe shouted down.

  “Come down if you please Mister Monroe!” Donland called.

  Donland turned to Dewitt, “What of that anchorage?”

  “Shoaling to the west, otherwise deep water to within a quarter-mile,” Dewitt answered.

  “Then we've sea-room enough for our needs should we need to maneuver,” Donland said. He estimated the distance to the nearest headland to be about two miles. Another mile and they would go about.

  “Mister Ashcroft! All sail!” Donland shouted. H
e'd need Hornet ready to respond to any threat.

  Donland lifted the glass and trained it on the anchorage. On the larboard, headland was the flash of a shore-based cannon.

  “The Dons are ranging us!” Donland said.

  Hornet’s bow-chaser boomed again and the smoke wafted back to the quarterdeck.

  Monroe jammed his hat back onto his head as he approached Donland. He smiled broadly as he said, “She's there! Close inshore.”

  “Aye, and if God willing and the Dons sleep soundly we shall have her back,” Donland said then ordered, “Go forward and lay the other bow-chaser.

  “Aye Captain,” Monroe answered.

  “And, if you please and should you be required, command the starboard runs.”

  “Aye Captain,” Monroe again answered and started forward.

  Donland turned his attention back to the ketch. Just as he lifted the glass, four guns situated on a small hill west of the anchorage fired. One ball punctured the jib and the other three splashed down just beyond the starboard quarter.

  “Hard to starboard!” Donland commanded the helmsman.

  “Tack to starboard, Mister Ashcroft! We shall go about!”

  “Mister Aldridge sent to Stinger, “Tack starboard!”

  “Aye Captain!” Aldridge answered as he bent to find the correct flags.

  “Good shooting,” Dewitt mused.

  “Aye,” Donland said and added, “too good for my comfort!”

  “Stinger is turning!” Dewitt said nonchalantly.

  “Signal acknowledged!” Aldridge called.

  Donland smiled as the ketch reduced sail.

  “Mister Dewitt steer east by nor'east, we shall give Point Diego a wide berth, if you please,” Donland ordered.

  “Aye, Captain, a wide berth indeed,” Dewitt replied.

  Stinger completed her tack and was on course matching Hornet.

  Hornet was slightly heeled under light sail, to starboard was the island of Culebra, Donland had chosen the route rather than rounding the headland fearing another battery. The accuracy of the pirate battery had come as a surprise and he cared not to tempt another. Nor, did he consider it wise to give any indication to the Dons as to his intentions. The bell rang six times in the forenoon watch.