The Only Life For Me (Tales Of A Navigator): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories
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VI. Any man that spreads dissension or breeds mutiny shall suffer the punishment as the Captain and the majority of the Company shall think fit.
VII. He that shall be found guilty of cowardice in the time of engagements shall suffer the punishment as the Captain and the majority of the Company shall think fit.
VIII. He that shall have the misfortune to lose a limb in time of engagement shall have the sum of six hundred pieces of eight and remain aboard as long as he shall think fit.
The Articles were fair, and reasonable, and not a one of us had any reason to question the act of committing to the code. Some used the quill to sign their names or their symbols, and some poked their fingers to sign with their blood, but Mason sliced the side of his palm and stamped the long, crescent shape blood mark on the page. So I did the same.
Once everyone signed, Captain Bentley told us his plans for our first shared prize. Nodding toward Mister Parkston’s Talon, docked quietly in the bay, he said, “The surly old coxcomb who owns that ship refused to pay me for my work. He claimed that I owed him for the damages cast upon his precious vessel, and told me I could pay my crew myself if I thought they were worth it. Those of you who stood before my mast know that I paid you out of my own pocket, because by God, you’re worth it.
Now, the way I’m reading this shitten tale, it seems that the rich son of a bitch is currently indebted to me. So, anyone interested in seizing Talon—as well as the furniture that hasn’t yet been removed from her hold—state your favor in the vote.”
Oh shit. This was it. Though I had always dreamed of going rogue alongside my father, I suddenly found myself stunned by the reality of this proposal. If we took Talon as our own, there would be no returning to the right side of the law. We’d be outlaws, rogues, branded as pirates by society for all our days to follow. There was no denying the hesitation I felt over this life-altering choice, but when seeing the other men—who my father had paid, regardless of his loss—raise their hands in order to help him reclaim what was due to him, I realized something that would stay with me for the rest of my life…
The seizing of Talon wasn’t a robbery; it was a justification.
As sailors, we risked our lives, and lost one of our brothers in order to deliver Mister Mark Parkston’s fancy furniture. While we were out pulling lines against gale force winds, and fighting with black-hearted pirates, he was at home in his mansion, drinking tea, and powdering his smug little face. It was bad enough that he hadn’t thanked us, but now…he’d robbed us.
If making right of this wrong would lead the rich to call us pirates, than pirates we would be. We didn’t need the law of the land to keep us in line, or the money of a wealthy man to keep us fed. The fair and just command of our captain would keep us afloat, and I would rather sail before Mason Bentley’s mast in a hurricane, than ever again accept a coin from the noble.
I stated my vote in favor of his plan.
Nudging me with his elbow, Captain Bentley said, “Good. Otherwise, we were going to take you by force. We need you to navigate us through the shoals in the darkness.”
Hearing the captain state his respect for my knowledge of these bays out loud, I felt my chest fill with a rush of pride. After winking at the man who had questioned my skill, I told the others I would be glad to guide them.
With everyone in agreement, we discussed the last minute details of the plan, then followed our captain to the longboat he had waiting in a quiet bay. Under the cover of night, we stealthily rowed through the harbor and crept up Talon’s hull, without making a sound.
Some of the men, including the captain, silenced the watchmen with gags, while others rushed to cut the mooring warp, raise the spanker, mains, and headsails. As for me, I helped push the capstan to raise the anchor. The cranking grind of the anchor chain snarling through the hold caught the attention of the harbor master. Before we were free of the weight and able to sail away, the harbor master came running down the dock raising a fuss.
He was shouting and wailing so loudly, I was sure he’d wake the town. Just when I thought we’d been caught and would be hanged by the law before dawn, Captain Bentley grabbed the boarding axe and chopped the anchor chain in half.
Talon broke loose from the weight of the anchor. The sails stretched tight in the favorable breeze. As we began our sail away from the dock, Captain Bentley strutted toward the gunnel and shouted at the panicking harbor master, “Tell Mark Parkston that Mason Bentley’s happy with the trade after all.”
Hooting like wild animals, we short tacked out of there, clearing the entrance of the harbor with the wind at our lee. As the sailors unfurled the top sails, giving us another knot, I wiped the sweat from my brow. We were sailing away, and there was no stopping us. It was the middle of the night, and by the time anyone in that sleepy town caught up to the chase, we would be far out of range. Talon was ours, as was the endless horizon ahead of us.
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Standing at the stern of our newly refitted Talon, watching the turtle shaped silhouette of Tortuga fading into the distance, I thought back upon how the months had passed since we sailed away from Barbados.
As the navigator of Captain Bentley’s buccaneer crew, I solely charted our course across the Caribbean Sea the night we made our escape. Along the sail to Hispaniola, I spent my days watching the weather like a hawk stalking its prey, and measuring every move we made with meticulous care. My nights were spent studying the stars with a new intensity in my gaze, and seeing the way Captain Bentley took my advice and suggestions, I met my night’s rest with a satisfied mind.
Under my guidance, we reached the rugged shoreline of Hispaniola much sooner than expected. We spent the next few weeks hunting for boar, and then cooking and seasoning the meat over the boucans. Once we had a solid stock, we headed for Tortuga, where we traded our meat and what was left of Mister Parkston’s furniture in order to afford the damage repairs on our seized ship.
Days were spent hard at work on the ship, but our trades paid well enough to give us each a good ration of spending money, so we went wild during our nights in town. The town itself was nothing to boast about, but I was thrilled by the reckless abandon. There were no rules and no expectations, but there was plenty of liquor and more than enough wenches. I had my fair share of both.
But best of all, my father hadn’t called me boy not once since we left Barbados. Drinking together, playing cards, and gawking over the saucy wenches like we were brothers, I began to see him in a new light. He wasn’t just my father and he was more than my captain, Mason Bentley was now my friend. Celebrating my newfound freedom at his side has made every bit of our time ashore all the more enjoyable. And now that we’re back at sea, setting out on a hunt for a Spanish galleon carrying untold amounts of gold, I can only imagine how much better our lives are going to get.
Lost in my thoughts, I was surprised by the feel of my father’s hand patting me on the back. “You’ve done good, Bentley. As your captain, I want to let you know that this crew is mighty pleased by your work as their navigator.”
Tipping my hat to him, I said, “I’m proud to be of service, sir.”
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “But now, as your father, I want to tell you a thing or two about the riches we will soon acquire.”
Intrigued by his tone I nodded at him to go on.
“Living this way, it will no longer be our concern to make rich men richer. What we earn from here on out will be our very own, and the gold we will gather will be more than you’ve ever seen. But don’t let it get to your head, Sterling. A man is only as good as his word, no matter how much gold he has in his pockets. The reason I made this choice was to free us from the rich, not to become like them, so regardless of the wealth awaiting us across those sparkling blue waters, don’t ever forget the reason we set out to find it.”
Taking a moment to let his words resonate in my mind, I eyed the world around me and thought about what it all meant. These hardworking sailors were no longer poor me
n struggling to get by. And Talon, she was no longer a heavy laden merchantman, but a freebooter, sleek on the tide, swift in the wind, and tight on her wake. As Brethren of the Coast, we were free and equal, and living this way assured me as to why my father had always been so fierce to protect his pride and independence.
Looking up to the full sails overhead, and admiring the way the colors of sunset reflected onto the canvas sheets, I spoke to the man who taught me everything I knew about life. “I’ll never forget where we came from, and I promise to hold fast to the passion behind the choice we made. For this is indeed, the only life for me.
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Be sure to look for more out & upcoming
Endless Horizon Pirate Stories
Uncharted Secrets
Uncharted Secrets
Queen Of My Nightmare
Every Time It Rains
Never Surrender
*Relentless Storm
X
Justified Treason
Justified Treason
Tarnished Persuasion
Wicked Rose
Gunpowder & Gold
*Honorable Betrayal
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Tales of a Navigator
The Only Life For Me
Bloodstained Blade
Tale Of A Traveler
*Two Days From Tortuga
*Upcoming
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My name is Cristi Taijeron Other than writing pirate stories, I’m a stay home mother who also does the bookkeeping at the auto shop my husband and I own. I enjoy off-road adventures through the desert as much as I love building sandcastles at the beach, and at home I have a flower garden I tend to. Though I have been passionate about drawing, painting, and writing for most of my life, it has always been my greatest dream to publish a novel. Inspiration is everywhere, and seeking it daily, there is never a dull moment in my world.
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