Scarlett

by Christopher C Tubbs

  The Admiral’s face held a look of distaste. The reward offended his sense of honour, but it was posted by the inquisition and he had no intention of getting on the wrong side of the black crows. However, he could play the game exactly to their rules.

  “That is correct. What is the information you wish to trade?”

  “She has left Port Royal and is heading back to England with another ship called the Caribbean Queen. Both her ship, the Fox, and the other ship are laden with goods.”

  The Admiral knew the Fox or rather the Conquistador as it had been when it was part of his squadron. His idiot nephew managed to lose her to a much smaller ship captained by a woman and it cost him a fortune to ransom him and his officers back.

  The nephew was on his way back to Spain in disgrace but the smear on his family honour had to be expunged and now he saw a chance.

  “Excellent, and where are they now?” he asked.

  “Well, given their speed, probably about to reach the western point of Cuba about now,” Moineau stated.

  The Admiral called his flag lieutenant and asked that the captains of the Frigates, Santa Sabina (forty guns), and the Tigre (thirty guns) report to him. Santa Sabina was brand new and was somewhat of an experiment as it emulated the big British two-deckers, the Tigre was older but had an experienced captain and crew. They should make a good match.

  The captains arrived and the Admiral briefed them,

  “You are to leave port at your earliest convenience and intercept two ships that will be travelling North to pick up the trade winds. One is the Conquistador; you will restore the honour of the Navy by recapturing her and bring her Captain back here so she can be burnt as a witch.”

  He glanced at Moineau and continued,

  “Both ships are laden with goods stolen from the Spanish Empire. There will be significant prize money for both.”

  Both captains nodded, saluted, and spun to leave.

  “What about my reward!” asked Moineau.

  “Oh yes,” the Admiral smiled.

  “Take this wretch with you,” he ordered and then to Moineau,

  “You will get your reward when we have captured her. In the meantime, you and your men will accompany my ships as crew.”

  He had, as the English would say, been pressed.

  The Spanish frigates were already provisioned and the Captain of the Santa Sabina, José-Marie San Sebastian de Quinta, requisitioned Moineau’s Pinnace as an extra pair of eyes. Having three ships spread out horizon to horizon would enable them to cover a much greater area of sea than just two.

  Moineau was furious, as far as he was concerned, the Spanish betrayed him and his men. He heard a rumour of how they had treated Scarlett’s men in Cartagena but hadn’t given it much credence. Now, as he grabbed onto the line he was being forced to haul on like a common sailor, he started to believe it.

  The Spanish tactic was simple. They knew that Scarlett had to sail the Canalis Bahamis Vefus between Porto St Luzia on the mainland and the island of Grande Bahama which was only some sixty miles wide. Once they spotted them, the Santa Sabina would go after the Conquistador and the Tigre the merchant ship, the pinnace would keep out of the way as she was too undermanned to fight.

  They sailed up the centre of the channel then spread out into their hunting formation with the Santa Sabina in the centre, Tigre to the Florida side and the pinnace over towards Grande Bahama.

  All we have to do now is wait, thought San Sabastian. It was a full moon and that English bitch wouldn’t be able to sneak past them in the dark.

  Scarlett let the Queen lead, holding the Fox back and to windward so she could protect her. She had a funny feeling and Elvira was agitated, both of which made her nervous. They were on full alert as they passed Havana, which was well over the horizon from where they sailed. She had that feeling she got when she was being watched.

  “Daniel, how long before we pass Grande Bahama?” she asked.

  “After dark, but there’s a full moon tonight, so it shouldn’t slow us down.”

  “That’s not what’s worrying me,” she muttered and started to pace up and down.

  “Double the lookouts, keep men in the tops and change them every hour,” she ordered Steven as the sun sank towards the horizon.

  Steven shouted the orders, then turned to her,

  “Expecting trouble?”

  “I’ve got a feeling is all,” she explained.

  “Better safe than sorry. You’ve been right before.”

  “That is what worries me,” she paced some more. The men noticed and were quietly getting into their places for action. They trusted their captains’ instincts absolutely.

  Captain San Sebastian de Quinta stood on his quarterdeck and tried very hard to appear calm, which was far from how he felt. He knew that he had to recapture the Conquistador or die trying, the Admiral made that very clear. He also knew that the British privateer would be no push over. They took the Conquistador with a much smaller ship and he only had a four-gun advantage.

  He wished he knew how they did it, but the survivors from that encounter were so badly affected by the experience as to be classified as having lost their minds. From what he had heard the bitch had loaded them into the empty hulk of her old ship and cast them adrift in sight of the port of Aricebo but set fire to the ship first. The survivors had to jump overboard and run a gauntlet of sharks before being rescued by the local fishermen.

  He shuddered. They had to win. The bitch was absolutely ruthless and there was no guarantee that she would ransom them if they lost. He looked up at the full moon, she was on the side of women, wasn’t she? He thought superstitiously.

  “A flare from the Tigre!” hailed the lookout.

  Oh Marie mother of Jesus, it’s beginning, he thought.

  “Make more sail, close with the Tigre,” he ordered.

  “Flare a point of the larboard bow on the horizon!” shouted the lookout on the Queen.

  Smoker remembered what Scarlett said about not taking any chances and ordered the ship to action stations. He had twenty guns and a clean bottom, and as much as he didn’t want to, he agreed with Scarlett that they would run like hell if they were attacked and she would take on any attackers and try and delay them.

  He looked back at the Fox and saw she was making more sail and moving up on them. She was clearly going to take the lead and try and clear the way for them. Damn but he was proud of his daughter. She was bloody fearless and from what he heard in port, ruthless.

  The Fox started to pass them. She had all sail set and was forging ahead. He could see her deck in the moonlight, and it was crowded with men. She was ready for a fight and stepping up to the line.

  Scarlett heard the hail from the mainmast lookout that he saw a flair and had reacted immediately; the ship had come to action in record time. It seemed that the men had somehow sensed something was about to happen and had gotten themselves ready in advance.

  Now the lookout hailed,

  “Sail one point of the larboard bow and another closing two points off the starboard.”

  “Looks like someone was expecting us,” Steven commented.

  “Yes, it does look like a trap, doesn’t it. Is there anything coming up behind us?” Scarlett answered.

  Steven called up to the lookouts and once they reported,

  “No, nothing behind.”

  “Then they think whatever is ahead can take us. We need to clear the way for the Queen. Load the lower deck guns with double shot and the upper deck with chain and run out. Get the bow chasers ready as well.”

  They want a fight? Well they are going to get one, Scarlett grinned to herself, her nerves settling as she got ready for combat. Elvira was flying above them, keeping pace with the ship. Just behind and to the side of her was the larger, less elegant shape of the Pelican.

  The sea was slight, so there would be no trouble using the lower deck guns and the wind was on their starboard quarter. That meant the unknown opponent would have it on thei
r larboard bow. That gave her the weather gauge and she intended to use it.

  It seemed like only minutes later when the lookout hailed that both ships were hull up and that he could tell that they were both frigates and Spanish. Scarlett climbed into the tops to see for herself.

  She got the lead ship in her night glass, the image upside down and back to front. For a minute, she thought it was the Cambridge, Sir Christopher’s ship, but realized it had a distinctive Spanish cast to it in the way the sails were cut. She shifted to the other and knew immediately it was almost the same as the Fox, maybe a little smaller.

  She watched them for about ten minutes then patted the lookout on the shoulder and took a stay to the deck.

  “Two options, from what I have seen,” she told her officers, “they will both try and take us or more likely the big one will engage us so the smaller one can go after the Queen.”

  Steven, Bill, and Daniel all agreed.

  “I want us to get a shot off at both and we will take the risk of keeping all sail set,” Scarlett said.

  “What?” Daniel started to say but Scarlett continued.

  “Dad will follow our lead, and he will blow by in our smoke. Once we have fired, we will reduce sail and let him get ahead. The Spanish will have to wear to get back behind us and then we are in a stern chase. They obviously don’t know we have cleanish bottoms or they would have chosen different tactics.”

  No one could argue anything better so the plan was set.

  Smoker watched the Fox. He had increased sail to try and stay with her. Her guns ran out on both sides and he knew what Scarlett was going to do.

  “Load the guns both sides. We might get a shot off and be able to do some damage,” he ordered his first mate, Les Davage, “only reduce sail before we make contact with the Spanish if Scarlett does. Stay in her wake but be ready to pass them if she signals it.”

  Scarlett had shared the signals that she worked out with Ray with her father but by moonlight, it would be impossible to distinguish the colours. To cover that, they had agreed flares for some of the signals.

  Red/Red flareShip sighted

  Red and white/White flareClose up

  BlueMerchant

  Blue and white/Blue flareAttacking

  YellowWarship

  White/Blue and Green flaresAbort

  Green/Green flareCarry on

  Green and whiteMore than one

  Scarlett watched the Spanish ships intently; the smaller ship had closed up to about half a cable behind the lead. That gave her an idea. She called Steven over and explained what she thought,

  “Oh, I like that. It will probably work. How will you tell Smoker what to do?”

  “Burn a green flare on our larboard quarter,” she replied.

  On the Santa Sabina, Captain San Sebastian de Quinta watched the two English ships approaching, they were under full sail and phosphorescent trails could be seen stretching out behind them.

  They must reduce sail soon, he thought as a lookout reported that they had run out their guns on both sides.

  “What are they doing? This isn’t normal!” he exclaimed. He was familiar with the book of Navy tactics the Spanish navy used to train their officers and this didn’t appear anywhere in it. He had been in two, line actions and one against a British Navy Frigate but this defied all the rules.

  Now, the Fox was heading straight at him and at around two thousand feet two clouds of smoke blossomed from her bow.

  “What the hell?” he shouted to no one in particular then ducked as two big balls screamed over his head. They hadn’t hit anything vital. There was a hole in the foresail and the main mast showed a crease on one side where a ball had winged it.

  They closed. The English ship was maintaining its course dead ahead and straight for him. She had to be planning to go down his larboard side so she could go between his two ships.

  Scarlett was happy so far and her gun crews were reloading as fast as they could. The range closed to five hundred feet when the fore chasers spoke again and this time, they were close enough not to miss.

  She saw his foremast shudder as a ball hit it square on and their main sail split from top to bottom. Two hits to none to us! Scarlet exalted.

  The range closed, three hundred feet.

  One fifty.

  One Hundred feet.

  “Now!” Scarlett shouted to Jim on the wheel.

  De Quinta was transfixed. The Fox just kept coming straight at him and those damned bow guns spoke again. His foremast had taken a direct hit and his mainsail was gone, split in two.

  They were one hundred and fifty feet apart when his nerve broke, and he ordered the helm over to starboard but as soon as he did, the Fox suddenly swung to her larboard. They would collide!

  “Helm to Larboard, to Larboard, you idiots!” He screamed at the men on the wheel and to give them their credit they spun the wheel to larboard as fast as their hands would let them.

  Behind the Santa Sabina, the captain of the Tigre was watching the contest unfold in front of him. As ordered, he was keeping his attention on the Caribbean Queen when suddenly the Santa Sabina veered violently to larboard, directly into his path her sails flapping.

  The helmsman reacted fastest and spun the wheel to avoid the ship crossing in front of them. By a twist of fate, he chose starboard to cross behind them. That brought them right across the bow of the Fox.

  As they passed the Santa Sabina, they served her a full broadside, the chain from the upper deck guns ripped through her rigging and the lower deck balls smashed into her hull.

  “Jesus Christ!” shouted Jim as the second Spanish ship suddenly appeared across their bow and swung the wheel hard to larboard.

  Scarlett braced herself as the Fox ploughed into the side of the Tigre level with the foremast. The impact was enormous even though at an angle, and the Fox rode up as her bow smashed through the other ship’s side. If the Tigre had been a heavier ship or if they had hit her further back, they would have lost their masts. But as it was, the fore mast leant forward held up by the quivering stays as the two ships locked together and spun around each other which lessened the shock and saved their main mast.

  Men were thrown forward to the deck by the impact. Steven lurched to his feet, yelling for the men to let go the sails and relieve the pressure on the straining masts.

  Someone fired the starboard fore chaser; the blast from the muzzle killed half a dozen men on the Tigre and the ball took the head off another. The larboard gun was fired shortly after, then the men were charging forward over the bow to board the Spaniard and take the fight to them.

  Scarlett ran down the deck, pistols in hand, intent on getting into the fight, but when she reached the bow and looked down, she saw that the Tigre was opened up to below the waterline. Their reinforced bow opened them up like a kipper.

  She looked around and spotted Steven facing two Spaniards. He was holding his own, but she rushed across to the other ship to help him. She shot one in the chest and Steven took the other with a crosscut that almost took off his head.

  “We need to get off this tub! She is sinking fast and will take the Fox with her,” Scarlett cried. Steven ran to the side and looked over. She was right the Tigre was going down and would pull the Fox down by the bow as the rigging tied them together. The two ran from group to group yelling at their men to retreat back to the Fox and followed when most of them obeyed.

  Steven realised they would have to cut the tangled rigging free to separate the two ships and yelled orders. Men set to with axes, chopping at the tangled ropes and cables, breaking up the cat’s cradle. A rope parted with a crack like a shot from a pistol and the end whipped across the deck of the Tigre taking the leg off a crewman that was working nearby. It was the last one, the bow lifted clear of the Tigre’s shattered hull and with the pressure of backed main topsails and mizzens the Fox slid backwards away from the doomed ship that sank from beneath them.

  The Spanish crew realized what was happening, and many
were throwing themselves across the widening gap between the two ships. Some made it and were helped aboard but many didn’t and fell into the sea. Sharks were gathering, and the screams rang out.

  Smoker followed the Fox and even managed to serve the big Spaniard with a broadside up the arse as he passed his stern. His helmsman had reacted in time to avoid the collision between the Fox and the Tigre, and they slid past the locked ships with room to spare.

  His heart was in his mouth as he watched Scarlett throw herself across to the Spanish ship, but he couldn’t see what became of her as they were soon past and had a clear sea ahead of them. He looked back. His little girl and her brother were back there, and she was fighting for their lives and her ship.

  He so wanted to go back, but her words as they had boarded rang in his ears, “We can look after ourselves. Get that cargo back home so the family can get out of the smuggling game. This is our chance to become gentry, Pop, don’t ruin it trying to save us. If anything happens, we will be fine.”

  He had to trust her. She was fierce, she was determined, she was Scarlett.

  Chapter 19: A time to heal.

  The Fox was wounded. Many of her stays were stretched or damaged, and the foremast had all but been ripped out of its seat. Her bowsprit stuck out at a very odd angle and her bow timbers had been badly damaged. The larboard bow chaser had broken its left side tackle the last time it was fired and was on its side. They had a lot of injured and men that couldn’t work lined up on the centreline. It would have been a lot worse if their bow timbers hadn’t been reinforced to cope with the fore chasers.

  Scarlett took stock and was busy organizing work teams when she remembered the other Spaniard! She rushed to the stern and looked across the sea to where she expected it to be. There it was, outlined in the moonlight its sales loose, not moving. It was wounded too!

  A glance showed the Tigre was almost down to her deck and would not stay afloat much longer. Men were frantically trying to find something that floated to hang on to, but they weren’t her problem. Even so, some of her men were throwing ropes and hauling men up the side. The moon was going down. They needed to get away.