by Smith, Skye
"Sounds like pirate articles to me,” Weston mumbled. "well, I've nothing to lose and Bristol to be gained. Call your moot into session."
While the crew was rearranging the benches in the alehouse, and ordering more ale for the duration, Daniel spoke quietly to Robert. "I don't like him. I will speak against him. It will only take two 'nays' to block his petition."
"If I may misquote Weston," Robert replied in a whisper so his words would not influence the crew, "We've nothing to lose and an island to be gained. If we had met hem when we first landed on Kitts, he would have saved us a week of exploring in the Virgins."
In the end Daniel did not raise his voice against Weston, for the crew were impressed by Weston's knowledge of the Virgins. The crew allowed him to join them, so Robert signed Weston on as a pilot until the Swift returned to England. Since no one wanted Weston to succeed more than Daniel, the first thing that Daniel did was to take him aboard the ship to introduce him to the watch, and to show him the Swift's collection of charts and rudder logs. It was only once he saw Weston's reaction to the charts that he knew for sure that his new pilot was literate in reading and interpreting charts.
* * * * *
The passengers did indeed stay another week on Saint Kitts camped in the Brownist Hall, which was the meeting house that served Separatist religious sects in place of a church. Meanwhile the Swift sailed around the islands of Barbuda, Saint Barthelemy, Saint Martin, and Anguilla. At Barbuda, and Barthelemy they landed but did not stay long for the islands were too large for Daniel's purposes. They gave Saint Martin a wide berth because of its Spanish naval fort, and because there had been recent reports of Spanish frigates stopping in. The Spanish allowed the English colony on Saint Kitts only because they were at peace with England, but they were not encouraging new colonies on any of these other islands.
At Anguilla they spent two days exploring. There were no colonies on the island but there should have been. It was a paradise, with many good bays and a varied terrain. It was also too big for Daniel's design, but Weston correctly pointed out that his clan could settle in any of the peninsulas which formed the bays for they had natural borders with the rest of the island.
"When you told me what you wanted,” Weston told Daniel, "Anguilla was the first island that came to my mind. If the peace continues between Spain and England, then the Spanish may allow the settlement of Anguilla by the English. If that comes to pass, then you want to be the first ship on this island to claim this western end of it."
"And if the peace does not continue?" Daniel asked.
"Then there will be war and the Dutch fleet will capture the Spanish fort on Saint Martin. If that happens then you should rush to make a colony on any of these islands, including Saint Martin. Under Dutch rule, the privateers will behave themselves. Under Dutch rule, these Leeward islands will make men rich."
"It could be a long wait,” Daniel replied, "and my clan doesn't have the time to wait. The winters in the Fens of England are colder and wetter every year."
"Well, I do know some other islands,” Weston told them, "but they are well north of here and on the way to the Floridas. If you wish to explore them then we would be wise to take Edward's folk aboard now so we don't have to back track."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Pistoleer - Pirates by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 2 - The Bahamas in May 1641
With the passengers once again on board, the Swift began her sail north west towards New England. The first night out from St. Kitts they anchored in a bay of the island of TerTholen in the Virgins. Now that they were making for New England, the importance of TerTholen and its many good harbours became obvious to them. All non-Spanish ships sailing north to New England would stay well out to sea and away from the coasts of the Spanish 'Main' islands of Puerto Rico, Hispaniola, and Cuba, which meant that TerTholen was the last friendly island before many days of sailing the open seas.
The next day they set sail from TerTholen and spent two nights at sea to cross the four hundred miles of open water to reach the Caicos Islands. Weston piloted them to the Isle of Turks, because Daniel had made it very clear that his clan were only interested in islands with hills on them. Hills not just for lookouts, but so there would be fresh spring water fit to drink. The Isle of Turks had a hill, a fresh spring, and it was not yet settled.
Turks was a pleasing place, another paradise that would serve Daniel's clan well, so the crew and the passengers went ashore and explored it thoroughly. In the evenings Daniel spent long hours with Robert and Weston pouring over the charts and doing some deep thinking about how safe Turks was from Spanish fleets and from privateers.
"There is no good reason for a Spanish ship to come here,” Weston told him. "The only reason that English and Dutch ships come here is to stay well clear of the Spanish 'Main' islands. The Spanish ships can hug those same islands so why would they come to Turks? They wouldn't. From Turks an English or Dutch ship has the choice of sailing to the west of the Bahaman Islands, to the east of them, or through the middle of them."
"Just how many Bahaman islands are there?" Robert asked. The chart showed only three, but the entire area was shaded.
"Thousands, but they aren't really islands. The Spanish call them Cayos because they are just a reef that has grown higher than sea level, and thus has trapped sand and a few plants. Most of them are foul places with stagnant water and hidden reefs. The bigger ones have more sand. If a big wind comes while you sail amongst them, then you need luck and a priest more than a pilot. I know of only one of them that has a hill, and that is on the eastern route, along the Atlantic side of the islands."
With a brush of his hand, Daniel smoothed the chart they were looking at. "I begin to fear that the planter in TerTholen told me true when he said that the privateers are my main worry. They are searching for the same thing in an island that I am. If I were a privateer I would make Turks one of my bases. If my clan settles here, we will either have to fight the privateers or support them. If we support them, then the Spanish fleet will someday come and destroy us, like what they tried to do at TerTholen."
"And at Providence,” Weston muttered to himself.
"What is provident?" Robert asked.
"Providence is an island off the coast of the Spanish 'Main' land of Guatemala. An Earl by the name of Robert Rich started the Providence Company and sent some Puritans there to set up a colony. In order to survive, the Puritans had to support the local privateers. Last year a Spanish fleet attacked the island. The attack failed, but they will try again. They have no choice because the privateers that use Providence as a base are a threat to Portobello and to Panama."
"I was once introduced to this Robert Rich in London." Daniel told them. "He is the Earl of Warwick and a friend of John Pym's." He continued after a chuckle. "I once met his little brother Harry on the border of Scotland. Harry fancied himself a cavalry general. The Scots proved that he was more of a fancy than a general."
Robert kept his silence as he shuffled through the charts and found the one that showed the Spanish Main land including Panama and Guatemala. It was impossible for any seaman from Bristol or from Bridgwater not to have heard of Robert Rich , for the man and his companies ran so many ships out of Bristol. Robert had met him many times. Weston showed them on the chart approximately where Providence Island was, and Robert sneered, "Warwick is insane. Why would he choose an island near the Main when there are so many on this side of the sea, further from the Spanish and closer to the English?"
"Perhaps he was sold on the idea by some fast talking salesman after his coin,” Weston said in a soft voice as he turned his face away. "Providence is the closest island to Panama that can sustain a colony. His privateer ships were already using it as a base, but he never told that to King Charlie when he petitioned him for a patent to start a colony there. He doesn't much care about the colony, but with us at peace with the Spanish, the patent gives his ships a legal reason to be ther
e. In truth they are waiting for the treasure galleons. Such double dealing by Warwick may cost Captain Elfrith and his Puritan colonists their lives. Anyway, you won't make the same mistake that Warwick has made, will you?"
"What mistake. You mean the location of the island?" Daniel asked.
"The Providence colony was not assigned with a ship for the use of the islanders because the Company feared they would use it to leave the place. Every year the company sends the Seaflower or the Charity to them with new settlers, but the ships are forbidden to take on passengers for the return voyage. Your clan has their own ships. They will never be stranded on some island in the middle of nowhere. They will never be trapped on an island between privateers and Spaniards."
Robert was listening to Weston's voice, not his words. "You sound like you had something to do with Warwick's colony on Providence? Have you ever been there?"
Weston again turned away while he spoke. "Ugh, I once met Captain Elfrith, who is now the governor of the island." He changed topics. "Anyway, I suggest we sail down the outside of the Bahamas so I can show you the island of San Salvador. It has a hill and a fresh spring. The hill is probably why Cristobel Colon landed there on his first voyage to the New World. He would have seen the hill from out at sea, and would have steered for it."
"Colon? So it is a Spanish island?"
"Nay, the Bahamas belong to no one. Most of them aren't worth owning. Just reef and swamp and fever. Like I said, San Salvador is the only Bahaman I know of with a hill. The Spanish never sail that way any more. Colon only landed there because he was lost."
"Of course Colon was lost,” Robert laughed. "His three little ships were the first to reach the Caribbean from Spain, so he would have had no charts."
* * * * *
Two days later the Swift anchored at the long thin island of San Salvador. It did indeed have a hill, and the first thing Daniel did was to climb it. Robert stayed on the ship with Weston, because Weston was sweating out a fever. The crew and passengers went ashore. The crew to explore the leeward side of the island, while the passengers, most of whom were women, washed themselves and their clothes, and tried their hand at fishing, and picking coconuts. They had been picking coconuts on every island they stopped in at, so the hold of the Swift was now half filled with coconuts and everyone was the healthier for it.
The crew were always finding new uses for this wonderful tree and its giant nuts. The latest was to slow cook their fresh fish over coals made of the dried husks of the nut. The half dried, half smoked fish were savoury for days afterwards without spoiling. They had even replaced the sail duek that they had rigged as a shade canopy, with mats made from coco leaves. This had been necessary because the threads of the sail cloth were being weakened by the strong sun, and so it made good sense to stop using it for a canopy in case they needed it to replace sails.
While on the hilltop staring out over the endless sea in one direction, and the endless empty cayos in the other, Daniel finally had to admit to himself that where ever his clan settled, it must be within a day's sail of a thriving, booming English colony such as St. Kitts. This island, San Salvador, despite meeting all of his other criteria, was in the middle of nowhere. He put his seaman's whistle up to his lips and blew it hard. One long and then four or five short. The crew exploring the western shore turned and waved to him. They would meet him back at the Swift.
Once back on the ship Daniel realize how sick Tom Weston was, and immediately had words with Robert. "He has a plague! We must get him off the ship before he spreads it to the rest of us,” he argued. "Now we know why his last ship set him ashore. We must leave him here on San Salvador."
Weston was in a bad way. His teeth were chattering, yet his face was covered in sweat and he had thrown off all of his clothes. "At least my last captain was kind enough to put me ashore on a peopled island. If you leave me here alone on this island so far from anywhere, I will surely die."
"And if we take you, we will all surely die,” Daniel growled. "You are sick man. Horribly sick. Do you want to give it to the women, or to their children." The women passengers had drawn close to hear the arguement out of curiosity, but now they drew back and drew their children back.
"It does not spread from man to man,” Weston cried weakly. "It is the bad-air fever. You catch it from the smelly air that rises from the tropical swamps. Please don't leave me here. At least take me to the island of Gran Bajamar. It is the local base for the privateers that work the Florida channels. Perhaps I can find another ship from there."
Daniel stared at Robert and saw the decision on his face. "You are too soft by half. Having him aboard may kill us all."
"One more day won't make any difference,” Robert replied. "Besides, what if he is right about his fever."
"I am right,” Weston told him. "A Jesuit in Saint Agustin in Florida told me this. If I cool the fever and warm the chills then I will be right as rain in a few days, and then normal for weeks. That is the curse of bad-air fever. It comes back, it always comes back, but it doesn't kill you. Eventually it leaves you so weak that the bubble-lung fever finishes you."
Robert handed him his kerchief, "Well if you catch it from bad air, then we don't want you breathing on us. Cover your nose and mouth and keep them covered." He looked towards the women. "I need a volunteer to help him. He will need damp cloths to fight the fever, and a blanket to fight the chills, and salty broth to replace his sweat." Horsefaced Anna stepped forward. She was Edward's wife, and the formidable woman who kept the other women passengers in their place.
Daniel pulled Robert aside and hissed into his ear, "The only reason you aren't stranding him is because he says he is a Puritan from Bristol. How do you know he isn't lying? The man is a trickster and a pirate of opportunity. He plays the part of a Puritan, but he is a sinner and he probably lied about having a wife in Bristol. I don't trust him, and neither should you."
* * * * *
Gran Bajamar was the island at the north end of the Bahamas and because of the back eddies of the sea currents that joined together to the north of the island, it was surrounded by shallows and reefs. Weston piloted them along a channel that widened to become a safe anchorage; that is, safe so long as there were no storms. One look at the ragged ships that shared the same anchorage, and at the ragged men who were working them, convinced Robert that this was not a privateer base.
The ships were too small and the men too poor to be privateers. At best this was a base for coastal pirates. He had the crew load all of the firearms and all of the cannons, and make a show of doing so. With the women passengers hidden, and the entire crew standing watch with pistols under their sashes, Robert and Daniel and four armed men stepped into one of the Swift's jolly boats, the one they towed, and they rowed Weston to the beach.
As Weston settled in the boat he told them, "This place is what the privateers call an open port, or a free port. Anyone can stop here and buy or sell anything captured, thieved, or wrecked."
Daniel stood up again and handed his costly double barreled dragon up to one of the crew in exchange for the man's standard dragon and standard pistol. His own gun was so obviously valuable that the lawless louts living here may have killed them just to steal it. Now armed like the rest of the shore party, Daniel slipped the line, and the crew rowed towards the beach.
Surprisingly there were Spaniards in the crowd on the beach. Well perhaps not so surprisingly, because there were many Spanish pirates in the Caribbean. And Portuguese, and French, and English, and Dutch, and even a few Turks and Italians. This multi-ethnic crowd seemed to have gathered for an auction of goods and slaves.
After a restless night Weston was feeling much better today. He told them, "The first market will be for selling the slaves. That will include anyone they have captured from ship wrecks, or from raiding the settlements along the Florida channel. The Spaniards will be the only ones to bid on them, for only they can resell them in Florida for a profit. The rest of these men will be selling, and then they
will spend their profit in the second market, the market for captured goods, especially weapons, supplies, and rum."
There was only one woman being sold, and she was the only woman in sight anywhere along the filthy beach front of huts and tents. "No one will buy her, not even the Spaniards,” Weston told them, "for under pirate articles, all proceeds are shared, even a captured woman. The poor lass will have been humped half to death and filled with venereal disease. Damn their soulless eyes to Hell."
But someone did buy the girl. For the price of the clothes she wore, a few coppers at most, a tall gaunt monk in a black robe led her away from the bidding bench. On spying the monk, Weston hurried after him calling out in poor Spanish. "Hermano Ignacio, espérar. Soy Thomas Weston, ugh, recuerdar. In San Agustín tu me ayudar con malaria."
The tall monk stopped and turned and then made the sign of the cross and smiled. He answered back in Dutch. "Thomas, I praise the Lord that you still live. Have you converted to the true faith yet, or was that an empty promise made simply to secure my medicines."
Weston replied in halting Dutch, "Ugh, I would have converted, but the medicine, it did not work. Only yesterday I was shaking and sweating."
"Then you did not pray in a Catholic church while you took it. Come to me in San Agustin and we will try again."
Weston looked between the tall dark monk dressed in black and tall fair Daniel with the pistols under his belt. "May I come with you brother? Because of my fever I am no longer welcome on this man's ship."
The ragged, scratched, bruised girl at the monks side whimpered, and the monk put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her while he gave Daniel a hard stare. "Are you the captain of that fine galliot?"
"I am the captain,” Robert replied with a snort as he stepped forward. Just because Daniel stood a full head taller than he, everyone always assumed that Daniel was in charge.
"Do you travel north along the Floridas?" the monk asked, and to the reply of a nod, continued with, "Today I have freed twenty souls from despicable captivity, but the ship I arrived on cannot carry even half so many. If you will carry some of them to San Agustin for me, then I will promise you a safe harbour there, and provisions."