His ship had not even made its initial cargo run. This fateful event had obstructed their business prospects. How was this possible? What had fate dealt him? And that was not the only loss that besieged them now. A number of crewmembers and one section head were going to leave the ship.
Heinrich almost decided not to write the letter because he felt it would do no good. But his conscience won over and he began penning the details of the incident – for it had to be documented. It would be his only opportunity to explain his side of the story. He would provide an accurate account of what had taken place, and at least his conscience would be free – free of what? Certainly not free of subjugation. It would not change their predicament one iota. They would be marked as outlaws, slandered by the British naval report that would be deemed the only truthful account of what had happened. The only question was how seriously would the British hunt for them?
The more Heinrich thought about the matter, the more furious he became. Was there no way out of this dilemma? The answer kept coming up the same, “NO! There was no turning back.” Finish the letter, his conscience told him, and be done with it, “Then go on with the best plan to continue fulfilling their dream of merchant mariners.”
* * *
It was late in the afternoon when the eight sailors returned to the See Wolf after their journey into Nassau. Heinrich was anxiously waiting to hear their report. Diego Cordoba spoke first sensing the captain’s concern that they were away longer than expected.
“I hope our delay did not trouble you, capitán. Do not fear; everything went smoothly. No one in town is any the wiser about us.” Having settled Heinrich’s concerns, Diego went on, “We surveyed the harbor and saw no vessel of interest, but there is one particular boat that is at sea and is due back early tomorrow. The vessel is a sixty-foot schooner used for fishing. It happens to be mounted with ten deck guns, 12 pounders and swivel guns on the bow and stern.. We heard the ship’s master might be interested in selling because he is in need of a fishing boat rather than an armed vessel. Are you interested?”
“Depending on the boat’s sailing integrity, it would be a perfect size, and with twelve cannons, she can support the See Wolf if need be,” Heinrich commented. “Well done, men. We will await the return of the vessel and then have a look at her. Anything else of interest?”
Diego shook his head and answered, “Aldo and I spent time in three different cantinas listening to the gossip, but heard nothing of value. Also, there were only a handful of merchant ships in port, and none of them are heading directly north for Ernst Mayer and group to seek passage.”
“All right; we are stuck with them a bit longer. It is most likely too early for the news of the attack on a British ship to circulate.”
“Si, capitán. The news of the attack will be slow in circulating through the region.”
* * *
It was just after sunrise the next morning when one of the lookouts in the crow nests hailed the officer of the deck, which happened to be Fritz Huber. A smaller vessel was sighted due east of them, just off Paradise Island, sailing for Nassau. Fritz saw the handsome two-masted schooner through his telescope. The vessel was fast; he guessed over fifteen knots, as she sliced through the narrows between Paradise Island and the slender Athol Island. Its sails were fully billowed by the gusty wind funneling through the gap. It was indeed a beautiful looking ship.
Huber immediately advised Otto, waking him up from a sound sleep. Although he wasn’t thrilled being awakened so early, he understood the urgency. He rushed on deck to organize the mission to find the owner of the vessel.
“Get Diego and the men awake – schnell!” Otto said as he stumbled around the cramped quarters getting dressed.
“They are awake; have been since the sun arose half an hour ago. I saw them topside a few minutes ago,” Fritz replied back.
“All right, tell them to get ready to row to shore in all haste.”
“Jawohl, Herr.” and left to tell the men.
He was crossing the main deck going toward the galley area when he spotted Diego and his knot of men readying the rowboat. They must have heard the call from the lookout and seen the schooner.
“Diego,” Fritz said breathlessly. “You heard? The schooner – well at least we think it’s the vessel – was sighted and -”
“Si, we know. We caught sight of it also. We are on our way now,” Diego remarked as he climbed over the rails into the boat already in the water. “Make sure you tell the capitán that we may be gone for some time.”
* * *
Within minutes the men were rowing toward the harbor. The water was choppy and made for a rough go; the men at the oars were getting a vigorous workout. They rowed across the harbor searching for the schooner. They spotted the boat berthed between two single-masted cutters at a dock on the southern end. They tied down nearby, and Diego had three men stay with the rowboat, while he, Fritz, and Anton made their way over to the ship. As a precaution, Diego posted Anton halfway between their boat and the schooner, not having to instruct the ever-vigilant sailor to stay alert. Diego was making every effort to be as careful as possible not to attract attention.
At the schooner two men were busy securing fishing lines. One man had features that Diego recognized as native to the Caribbean Islands. The other was lighter in color, resembling someone of Hispanic background. Diego decided to approach this fellow with the assumption the native Caribbean was a deckhand.
“Buenos días, amigo. ¿Cómo fue la pesca?” – “Good morning, friend. How was the fishing.”
The man looked up at the voice speaking in his native tongue and answered, “Muy bien. ¿Cuál es su nombre?, the man replied telling Diego the fishing was good and asked his name.
“Cordoba; Diego Cordoba. And what is your name?” he continued in Spanish.
“Emanuel Cortez, señor. I have not seen you around the harbor before,” the Spaniard stated and came closer.
“This is my good friend, Fritz Huber; a German national and a master boatswain. We have just recently arrived at Nassau. I have been here many times before onboard cargo ships. My friend here has not, and I was just showing him around the harbor.”
“Ah, you both are sailors on a merchant ship, si?”
“Si, amigo. We noticed your schooner. It is a very fine craft. Are you the owner?”
“No, it belongs to my cousin, Agusto Cortez. He has taken our catch to market.”
“Some sailors told us that he might be interested in selling her. Is that correct?” Diego asked in English hoping the Spaniard spoke the language so that Fritz could converse as well.
Emanuel changed to English, “Si, that is true. A boat more suitable for fishing is our desire. We have been using this boat for a couple of years, and she does well, because of her speed, but as you can see, she is not the ideal fishing boat. Too large and we have no use for the guns, which are extra weight and take up space.”
“Ah, you speak English.”
“In the Caribbean, it pays to speak some English, señor. After all, the English have a stronghold in this entire region.”
“Yes, indeed. Way too much for my taste,” Diego threw in to test the man’s position.
“Si, amigo. I am of the same mind,” Emanuel said in a soft voice while glancing in both directions down the dock apparently concerned if others could hear.
Diego decided to venture further to find out more. He knew that the British had seized much of the Spanish claims in this region. “The English can be such a nuisance. Even my German friends feel the same way.”
“They are nothing but thieves; they grab territory from the rightful owners,” the man did not hold back his bitter feelings. The English are not our friends, but we are forced to coexist with them.”
Diego nodded in agreement. “With France’s conquests in Europe perhaps England’s prowess will change soon, amigo.”
“Si, by the grace of God we hope to remove their hold on us. But unfortunately, their presence is strong. W
e need the Spanish military to aid us.”
“Si, bueno,” Diego thought. He was pleased that the Spaniards had a healthy hatred of the British. Perhaps that could be to the See Wolf’s benefit. He changed the subject back to the vessel.
“Do you mind if my crewmate and I come on board and have a look at your vessel before we discuss a possible sale?”
Having set a friendly tone, the man had no qualms and let Fritz and Diego come onboard. As Fritz went about his business, Diego continued to talk with Emanuel.
“The cannons, are they in good condition?”
“I am told they are in perfect order, but then I am not a soldier and cannot say for sure. They have not been fired for some time; we do not have any use for them. Alas, they are only for show; we kept them to thwart any pirate threats while we are at sea. You are welcome to inspect the guns.”
“Good idea. When will Agusto be back?”
“Sometime in the afternoon,” Emanuel said.
“Very well then. My friend and I will be back to talk to him.”
Diego went to look over the cannons. After some time, Fritz joined up with Cordoba and they thanked Emanuel for his hospitality, then they departed with plans to come back later that day to talk with Agusto.
* * *
Anton joined up with them as Fritz and Diego walked back to their boat. They would await Agusto’s return. They instructed the rest of the sailors to stay with the boat. Then they strolled along the harbor noting the types of cargo being loaded. They talked with numerous sailors to gather information about the market prospects of various goods. Most of the exports were spices; highly priced in both Europe and America. For decades, the majority of the spices had come from India and the Far East. The discovery of the New World had dramatically changed the products Europe imported. The addition of spices grown in the Caribbean was a godsend to countries in the western hemisphere due to the close location and reduced cost. Hence the industry grew every year in the West Indies.
After a few hours, the three interviewers were hungry and sought sustenance. They found a place that had a grill out front. They purchased roasted pork that was sprinkled with a mixture of spices, and it tasted exotically delicious. They downed the meat and drank mugs filled with coconut milk and rum. The taste was quite agreeable, and they ordered a second round of the drink.
“Makes me light-headed,” Fritz commented.
Diego smiled and told both men, “I’ve had this drink before, and the effect of the alcohol sneaks up on you. Sip it slowly.”
Fritz was enjoying the taste as well as its effect. “I like this drink a lot. It’s very tasty,” he said as he downed the mug off in a couple of gulps. Diego just shook his head.
“Be careful, amigos. We need to stay level-headed.”
“Let’s buy more meat and bring it back to the others,” said Fritz. “They must be starving by now and cursing up a storm.”
Diego purchased more meat from the grill. The proprietor packed the meat in banana leaves, while he waited. Anton and Fritz watched. They were thinking about what strange ways different cultures had around the world. Diego was handed the meat and was ready to go. As he got to his feet, Fritz’s head swirled from the drink. His first step was off balance, and he was barely able to stand. Anton grabbed him before he fell flat on his face.
“Whoa, I’m a little dizzy,” Fritz stated and fought the debilitating effect of the drink.
“Go easy now, Fritz,” Anton instructed him. “Slowly take a step.”
Anton seemed not affected by the rum. Diego thought it was because of his massive size. Diego watched Fritz with amusement. He stumbled and would have fallen if Anton wasn’t holding him. Anton was chosen to come along for added protection because of his fighting ability, size, and strength, but no one had known he would have to help keep his inebriated crewmate on his feet.
It took them a while to make it back to the other sailors, who were languishing with hunger. When they arrived, three sets of eyes bore into theirs with unhappy expressions. Diego blamed the delay on Fritz’s drunken state. The men were not amused, but gladly accepted the meat that Diego handed them. They gorged themselves. Aldo pointed toward the schooner and said something about more men coming onboard. Diego immediately left with Anton telling Fritz to stay with the others. They walked to the vessel and saw men on deck; Emanuel, the dark-skinned islander, and two others. Hopefully one was the owner, Agusto. He hailed Emanuel and the man acknowledged by holding up a hand indicating to wait a moment. Emanuel stepped to a tall man and addressed him, occasionally pointing to Diego. The two then approached.
“Buenas tardes, señor. Me llamo Diego Córdoba. I presume Emanuel has already explained that my ship’s captain is interested in buying your schooner? Are you interested in selling for the right price?”
“As you say, señor, if the price is right. She can out-sail any ship in this harbor,” Agusto declared, trying to ensure a high price.
“I fully agree,” answered Diego. “Our boatswain inspected the ship and gave her a first-class rating. If you are indeed interested in selling, let’s discuss the price.”
Agusto looked deep in Diego’s eyes to determine if he was being deceived, but he decided that the man was on the level and he relaxed.
“Please come on board, señor, and we will discuss a deal,” Agusto invited. Diego turned to Anton and told the big man that he would be right back. Anton nodded and then leaned against a stout wooden post to wait. Diego boarded and followed Agusto to a small cabin at the stern.
“Please sit down, señor,” offering a chair to Diego. Agusto pulled up another chair and sat down. They made small talk to measure each other before discussing the sale of the boat. Diego found the Spaniard amiable.
“Where are you from,” Agusto asked.
“From Toledo. My family still resides there. My father was the provincial military minister to Madrid. And you, señor?”
“I come from Cadiz. Emanuel comes from there also. My family have been fishermen for as far back as any of us can remember. The other Spaniard, Carlos, is from Granada; he is at the market to sell our catch. We were on the same ship that brought us to the Caribbean years ago. I cannot say it has been a lucrative adventure, but we have eked out a humble living.”
Diego nodded slowly in acknowledgment.
“The only possession we have is this boat. With the money we hope to get for it, we want to buy two smaller ones.”
“That is a very smart plan. How did you end up with this vessel in the first place?”
“It is a rather sad story, señor. It was originally owned by a Frenchman, who hired the four of us as fishermen. He was a secretive man and never explained how he obtained this ship. We all sensed that it had been acquired under less than honest circumstances. But none of us was in the position to question him as he was our boss, and really it did not matter to us. As time went by, we just dropped the subject. Why bother rocking the boat, si señor? His name was André Dubois. We were together for over ten years when he fell over the side of the ship during a terrible storm. We consequently became the owners of the ship.”
“Emanuel told me that you own the ship, Agusto.”
“It is actually owned equally by the four of us.”
“We tell anyone that Agusto is the owner, him being the oldest,” Emanuel commented.
“The Caribbean man, who is he?” Diego asked curiously.
“That is Martin Noble,” said Emanuel. “Martin was hired by André the same year we were. We consider Martin a rightful owner of this ship as well. He is a faithful friend. We have all been through much together, and together we shall continue.”
“And what about you, Diego?” Agusto asked as he looked at Diego’s weapons. “What is it that you do aboard ship?”
“I am but a humble sailor that has tried hard to pursue a simple life by getting calluses on my hands. I am no nobleman and no officer if that is what you are thinking.”
“Do not misunderstand me, but I sense
that there is more to you. I am not an expert of weapons, but your swords do not look like ordinary seamen weapons; rather one that higher officials carry. And the manner you wear those pistols makes me curious.
The serious way Agusto described him made Diego chuckle. “You know that everyone is armed here in the Caribbean, I must follow the fashion.”
“I have noticed your eyes miss nothing.”
“You make too much of nothing, amigo,” he said with a friendly smile attempting to put them to rest their concerns.
“There appears something in you, Señor Cordoba that makes others feel less confident in your presence.” The man peered at Diego with a questioning look as if he wanted to penetrate into his mind.
“It would be very nice to continue this discussion, but we are here to discuss the sale of this schooner, Agusto. The day is getting late, and I assure you the price will be agreeable.”
“Si, I suppose you are right,” Agusto relented. “What you do with the ship is not my concern.”
Agusto started with a high price, which Diego expected and expressed shock at the amount in mocked display. He countered with an amount that was much lower, but reasonable enough not to disrespect these men altogether. They bartered back and forth as was the custom; Cordoba confident all the while his final offer would be accepted. It was a game that was being played out, which was also meant to match a man’s ego. In the end, Diego stood adamant and would not budge on what he knew would be a handsome price for these fishermen. Agusto failed in his quest to change the last offer and took Emanuel aside and discussed it together. They had prepared to bargain for a higher price for this sleek vessel, but he knew the offer on the table was a good one. After several minutes, he came back to his chair and accepted the deal. They shook hands, and Diego made plans to take receipt of the ship the next day when he came back with the payment.
Winds of Fury Page 36