Rococoa

by Balogun Ojetade (ed)

  With a practiced ease, the crew of the Gambit jumped to their stations. Within moments, the anchor was raised. The sails were lowered, and immediately billowed taut with wind. Hannibal felt the Gambit surge under his feet. In the meantime, Safiya made her way to the helm. She was standing just behind, and to the right of the helmsman. From that perch she could see most of the main deck. She was only a few feet below Hannibal as he stood on the deck of the stern castle. Hannibal said, “Set your course north, by northwest. Seven knots please. Make for the Canary Islands.”

  Safiya barked, “Aye, Captain! Helm, make your course north, by northwest.” At her instruction the helmsman turned the wheel. Safiya took three paces to the rail of short deck and shouted down to the main deck, “Hoist the main mizzen and make for seven knots!”

  Hannibal heard the responses as voices were raised to shout, “Aye!”

  As he looked on, taking another draw on his pipe, the main mizzen was lowered into place and snapped full of wind. The Gambit picked up speed. Seawater sprayed into the air and his ears filled with the sound of ruffling sail and boots thumping along the wooden decks. He could not have stopped himself from smiling if he wanted. There was nothing like a stout ship and a brisk wind to sail her by.

  A few more puffs on his pipe told him he was out of unburned tobacco in the bowl. Stepping to the back of the stern caste, he emptied his pipe over the rail. The water below churned with the passing of the Gambit. He could tell they were nearly at speed. In the distance, the coastline of Alhamara began to recede. While he watched, the coast thinned into a fine line on the horizon before, finally, disappearing altogether. In no time at all there was nothing to see but blue water in every direction.

  A quick glance down on the main deck assured Hannibal that everything was in order. Making his way to the steps, he headed down, past the helm. When he did, he said, “Safiya, you have the helm.”

  With a sharp nod, his First Mate said, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Hannibal hit the main deck and took a sharp right. He opened the door that lead to the rear section, aft, beneath the stern castle. There were several cabins on either side of the hall, which ended in his quarters. He opened the door to his cabin and stepped inside. It was the biggest cabin on the ship. Along the wall, to his right, was his bed. He had relieved the captain of a pirate ship, flying the flag of Portugal, of his new Queen Anne bed. It had dome-shaped, carved head and footboards, with cabriole legs. It made him sleep like the dead. The rear wall was actually the very rear of the ship. Small, square, glass panes, inset in wood, made for a large window. In front of it was one of his prized possessions: A French writing table, made by Charles Cressent in Paris. It was a full four paces long and two wide. It was oak and pine, veneered with satiné rouge and amaranth. The mounts were gilt bronze and it had a leather top. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture he had ever seen. Every now and then, when he captured a slaving ship, there were a few surprises in the cargo hold. It was, undoubtedly, headed to some wealthy man’s estate. The armchair behind it was Italian, made from rosewood and kingwood, with looping armrests and blue, back and seat cushions, covered in a finely woven thread. Against the wall to his left was blue and gold Turkish bed he used as a couch. The floor was covered in Persian rugs.

  Hannibal closed the door behind him and walked over to his writing table. It was covered in maps and his plotting tools. He sat. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the crystal decanter on the right side of his desk. It was filled with a lovely Armagnac. He relieved the captain of the Salty Dog of a dozen hidden bottles. It would have cost Hannibal a heavy bag of gold coin to buy such a supply. If Dandy Rand Doggert had not been busy swimming for his life, he might have cursed Hannibal for raiding his cabin. He poured a glass of the amber liquid into a heavy matching crystal glass. It went down smooth. A warm glow began to spread across his midsection. With a smile, Hannibal sorted through his maps until he found what he was looking for. The Canary Islands. After another sip of the brandy, he set about looking for an edge.

  Hannibal twirled his steel divider by one of its legs.Someone knocked on his cabin door. He leaned back in his chair as he said, “Enter.” The door opened and Safiya stepped into his cabin. After closing the door behind her, she stepped to attention. He smiled at his First Mate and said, “As you were, Safiya. How are our guests?”

  Safiya relaxed. She walked over to his writing table. Leaning over the maps, she glanced at what he was studying. Her voice was as calm as the sea without wind or wave. “They are doing well Captain. The young man keeps to himself, but he’s pleasant enough when you speak to him. The young woman is as curious as a school of dolphins. She asks twenty questions in as many minutes. But the crew doesn’t mind.”

  Hannibal took a sip of his brandy and nodded. Good, his crew was always well-behaved. “What’s our course and speed?”

  Safiya nodded. “Aye, Captain. We are maintaining our heading: North by Northwest. And we are continuing at seven knots. I just checked our speed before coming down. The wind is good, no storms on the horizon, and no ships sighted.”

  Setting down his divider, Hannibal nodded again, and said, “Very well. Now lets talk about what’s to come.”

  Safiya listened intently as Hannibal explained his plan. She pointed to the map a few times, and unsurprisingly asked some incredibly good questions about her captain’s plan. But once they were finished, Hannibal was sure she was clear about what needed to be done. She stepped back from his writing table and asked, “Will that be all Cap’n?”

  “Yes, Safiya. That will be all. Continue on our present course until its time for our first course correction and make for twelve knots.”

  His First Mate turned her lips into an excited grin. “Aye, Cap’n. This is going to be fun.”

  Safiya’s smile was infectious. When she left his cabin, he realized he was smiling too. He poured another finger of brandy into his glass and stood. Turning from his writing desk, he leaned on the window in the back wall and stared at the wake of his ship. It did not take long before he heard the sound of pounding boots on the deck. As Hannibal watched the foaming water in the wake of the Gambit, he could feel her pick up speed. The last of the sail was certainly lowered and full of wind. Things were going to get dangerous. But Hannibal had a crew and a ship he trusted. He hoped his plan worked.

  Several hours passed with Hannibal in his cabin going over his calculations. As the sun dipped low in the west, he made his way topside. Climbing the steps to the stern castle, he heard Safiya bellow, “Captain on deck!”

  The evening air was brisk, but invigorating. The sound of the sea, as the hull cut through the water, made Hannibal feel alive. He leaned against the forward railing, watching his crew keep the Gambit at speed. He took a moment to fill his long-stemmed pipe. Safiya appeared at his side with a long, lit, piece of straw. She covered the pipe with her hand, while holding the flame just over the top of the bowl. Hannibal puffed several times until the tobacco was glowing bright red. Safiya walked to the port side of the ship and tossed the burning straw overboard. Hannibal reached into the pocket of his tunic. The gold chain, he tugged on, slid from his pocket with his watch on its end. The pocket watch had a gold back, impressed with intricate circles. The face revealed all the gold-plated inner-works, which clock makers called complications. One glance at the watch face told him it was time. He gave his First Mate a single nod. It was going to be a long night.

  ####

  The Gambit sat about five hundred yards off the shore of Lanzarote. The Canary Islands were not actually a single entity. While there were basically two different provinces, Las Palmas for the western islands, and Tenerife for the eastern, each island had its own Cabildo Insular, or Island Council. That also meant that each had its own economy and concerns. The major islands made wine and sugar cane, trading with England and the Americas. But the poorer islands, like Lanzarote, at the northernmost tip of the islands, were left out of that lucrative trade. Sadly, they decided to
participate in the slave trade. So Hannibal brought the Gambit up past the most western point of the islands, past Valverde and around the tip of La Palma. But he kept her well out at sea. The Gambit’s sails were black, for just such an occasion. They were running dark and quiet. Earlier in the day he plotted their course for maximum coverage of the islands. They moved the Gambit, using dead reckoning, from point to point, searching for any sign of the Whydah Galley. Hannibal had his crew lining the rails of the main deck, with spyglasses in hand, scanning the sea.

  They wove their way around Gomera, up the coastline from the south, and around Tenerife. They quietly sailed south past Canaria, before swinging east. They took a wide birth around Fuerteventura. Staying closer to the African coast, than the eastern shoreline of Puerto Del Rosario and Arrecife, the finally ended up north of Lanzarote, just before dawn. Peering south, they found her. The Whydah Galley sat at anchor, just off the shore of Lanzarote. Hannibal set the Gambit, with her port side to the Whydah, guns loaded, upwind from where the pirate ship was anchored.

  As the sun came up in the east, one of the mates, a charming, young man named Issa, climbed up the stairs to the stern castle. He brought Hannibal coffee, in a porcelain cup and saucer. The set was white, with blue and green flowers winding their way around the exterior. He thanked the young man. Walking to the rail, on the port side, Hannibal took a sip of the coffee and gazed across the calm, morning sea at the Whydah.

  The Whydah Galley was a Carrack class ship. She had four masts and was built to cross an ocean. She was a sturdy ship. Her captain was notorious. Captain Randall Jolly Redhook refitted his ship to carry both cargo and cannon. The man gave up some space for slaves in order to better arm his ship. It likely worked because the Whydah did not make the trip to the Americas, but spent her time along the Barbary Coast. Hannibal knew what that meant. Redhook made more runs to make up for smaller numbers in the hold of his ship. That was all about to change.

  Hannibal would rather have just sunk the Whydah and headed for open sea. But there might have been captured people in the hold. He had one other reason, which he kept to himself. Any other crew would have been loudly questioning his plan, maybe even on the verge of mutiny. But the crew of the Gambit trusted her captain. Hannibal took one final sip of his coffee, and then he said, “Safiya, give her a single shot across her bow. Let’s get her attention.”

  Safiya said, “Aye, Cap’n.” She turned and walked to the rail, facing the main deck. Looking over the rail, she barked, “One shot, across the bow, Salke!”

  Hannibal could not see the Quartermaster from where he was standing by the port rail, in the stern castle. But he heard the man relay his command. As Hannibal set the cup back down on its saucer, a loud boom, echoed from beneath him. Canon smoke drifted up, dissipating in the breeze. Over near the Whydah Galley, he watched the sea erupt in a violent explosion of water. The cannon passed over their main deck before splashing into the sea. Hannibal smiled as the deck of the Whydah flailed to life with activity. He waited a few heartbeats before telling Safiya, “Send the message.”

  Without hesitating, Safiya said, “Aye, Cap’n.”

  His First Mate relayed his order and soon, a female crewman was standing on the foredeck, signaling the Whydah with a flag in each hand. The message said they were to surrender, or be sunk. Hannibal was pretty sure he knew what the answer would be, but he wanted to try. He watched as the crew of the Whydah scrambled to get her anchor up and her sails lowered. When the Whydah lurched forward, with her sails filling with wind, Hannibal shouted, “Raise the colors!”

  Safiya echoed him, “Raise the colors!”

  The flag of the Gambit shot up the line from the deck, unfurling overhead. When it caught the wind, it snapped taut. Hannibal did not fly the Jolly Roger. He left that to traditional pirates. The Gambit flew a skull, but one made of shards of various colors, on a field of red. Just below the skull was a black set of shackles, broken in the middle.

  Hannibal watched as the Whydah tried to gain speed. She was downwind. Her captain knew they were at a serious disadvantage. Hannibal barked, “Port-side guns, fire at will. Hard to port! Lay in a pursuit course. Bring us up on her rear.” Redhook hoped he could get to speed in time to be out of the range of Hannibal’s guns. He shook his head as the Gambit’s port guns blasted away. The Whydah’s main deck exploded from its fore section. It was not long before the Gambit was in pursuit. The Whydah, rather than heading south, along the coastline, made for what appeared to be open sea. But Hannibal knew that she was headed straight for Tenerife.

  Hannibal should have laid down raking fire. Generally, ships were the most vulnerable to attack from the rear. Just like the Gambit, they had large windows in the officer’s quarters. Raking fire would run through the ship, length-wise, from stern to bow, causing maximum damage. But Hannibal was still trying to damage the Whydah as little as possible. Cannon fire blasted into the sea to the port side of the Gambit. The Whydah was firing her aft cannons. There were only two cannons in the Gambit’s fore, while Redhook likely had as many as six in the Whydah’s aft. Hannibal would have to rely on the second part of his plan. He shouted down to Safiya, who was standing next to the helm, “Keep us outside the range of his cannons!”

  Safiya nodded. The Gambit slowed as Safiya gave the helmsman orders. After several more volleys from their aft cannons fell short of the Gambit, the Whydah stopped firing on them. Redhook focused his efforts on running.

  Hannibal sent for another cup of coffee while he watched the Whydah tack for wind. She was fast. They were making about ten knots. The Gambit could still overtake her, but Redhook would not know that. Man-of-wars, fully outfitted, generally rated for eight to nine knots. The captain of the Whydah would have no idea that the Gambit was only outfitted with half the guns and crew, and that she was sailed by a captain who knew how to get two or three extra knots out of his ship. Hannibal let her run. It was a waiting game now. Redhook knew that there would be other slaver ships in the Canary Islands, or at least a few Spanish or British Galleons he could call on for assistance. He was running his Carrack full out trying to reach the waters near Tenerife. Even Hannibal knew there were likely other ships off shore. And even if there were not. There would certainly be cannons along the shore.

  Issa returned with another cup of coffee and a nod. Hannibal saw the young man, out of the corner of his eye, look at him just before he left the stern castle. He was measuring his captain. Hannibal smiled to himself. If all went according to plan he was going to have a story to tell. It took another twenty minutes, but the call came down from the crow’s nest. “Sail ho!”

  Hannibal looked in the direction the crewman in the crow’s nest was pointing. Sure enough, there was ship making for the Whydah. Hannibal barked for a mate from the main deck. A young woman came running up the steps to the stern castle. He handed her his cup and saucer before taking her spyglass. Raising it to his eye, he honed in on the approaching ship. She was already flying her colors. It was a skeleton, dancing on a field of black. Hannibal knew that mark. It was the Salamander, captained by Percy three-fingered Vane. It did not take long before the Whydah began tacking, to come about. Redhook had found his support. He was turning to fight.

  Hannibal put down the spyglass, and pulled out his pocket watch. Closing his eyes, he ran through his calculations. He could feel the eyes of his First Mate on him. It was a sure bet that nearby members of the crew were watching him too. A small part of his mind knew what they would see. Sometimes, Hannibal moved his lips while he ran the numbers. He could hear the ticking of the pocket watch in his hand. He could smell the salt water of the sea, as spray leaped into the air. He could hear the snapping of black canvas as the sails of the Gambit played in the wind. But his focus was on the calculations. Wind speed, current, longitude and latitude, all ran through his head. In the back of his mind he knew that the Whydah and Salamander would be in range of the Gambit in moments. Wait, he thought. Just wait.

  Hannibal’s eyes snappe
d open. “Now!” he shouted down to Safiya. In quick succession, the Gambit fired seven shots, then three shots, then seven more.

  He barked, “Come about! Hard to port!”

  Rigging strained and canvas snapped, as the helmsman made the course-correction. Crewmen scrambled on the deck and in the rigging, adjusting the sail. The Gambit leaned into the turn. Hannibal held onto the rail and watched her turn. The sea exploded with cannon shot where the Gambit had just been. As she started to straighten, Hannibal roared, “Starboard cannons, fire!”

  The starboard side of the Gambit exploded and the heavy cannon volleyed. The Salamander took a direct hit on its fore deck. The Whydah was hit on her starboard side. Hannibal bellowed into the wind, “Make for twelve knots!”

  In moments, as cannon fire hit the water all around them, the black sails of the Gambit surged with wind. The cat had become the mouse as the Salamander and Whydah Galley, chased the Gambit. He had the aft cannons fire without stopping. And then, as the numbers popped up in his head again, Hannibal lifted the spyglass and began laughing. Given their bearing, he knew he was seeing Las Palmas ahead, on the horizon.

  As soon as he saw land, he turned the spyglass south. And there they were. “Come about!” he shouted. “Come about!” The helmsman hesitated. Safiya pushed the man aside and spun the wheel, yelling up toward the rigging as she did. The Gambit leaned into the sea again. Once she was fully turned and heading directly for the Whydah and Salamander, Hannibal had another message sent. When the crewman, leaning at the fore of the ship, finished waving the flags, the cannon fire stopped. Hannibal slowed the Gambit to just a few knots as the Wanderer, Flying Dragon, and Fortune came alongside. When he decided to go after the Whydah, he sent messages to their captains telling them to meet him at dawn off the coast of Las Palmas. He sent three invitations in the hope that at least one of them would show. Hannibal was gratified to see all three. It should not have surprised him. The Whydah Galley was the most notorious ship in the Atlantic.