by Michael Aye
“They are afraid of the pump,” Coop said to his group. “Have one of the ship’s crew washed down so they can see we don’t intend to harm them. Besides they reek almost as bad as their human cargo.” After showing the slaves what the deck pump was all about, they took right to it.
“What do we do with the dead un’s?” Banty asked.
“Over the side with them, that’s our only option,” Coop said.
“Aye,” Banty replied. “That was my thinking as well.”
As Banty turned, Cooper called him back, “Find out if that mulatto girl speaks these people’s language.”
It was obvious they didn’t understand English. As it turned out, she could speak enough to get by.
“What’s your name?” Cooper asked the girl.
“Rosita,” she replied.
“Rosita, I want these slaves to bring the dead on deck and cast them over the side. And then, they need to wash down the tier so they won’t have to lie in their filth.”
The girl spoke to the slaves and soon bodies were being brought up and without ceremony cast over the side.
“Don’t seem right, not speaking any words over them,” Mac said. He looked grim for a bit and then said, “I guess they wouldn’t know what was being said anyway. Most of them coming out of Africa are heathens, anyway, so they don’t believe like we do.”
Seeing everything being carried out in an orderly manner, Mac spoke again, “Captain sent me over to see if the ship has got any extra spars or anything we can use to jury rig a mast of sorts and get some canvas on her.”
“Moree,” Cooper called to one of the Raven’s volunteers. “See to our English speaking sailor and find out if they carried anything that would be useful in getting this ship underway.”
“Aye, Coop, but just so’s you know the whoreson is called Orville.”
Coop gave a mock salute as Moree headed off. While Spurlock was watching, keeping everything in order; Cooper followed Mac as he made a thorough inspection of the ship.
“Need to pump the bilges after washing down the slave tiers but the ship seems sound, apart from having lost all her mast and rigging. We may have to tow her to Savannah,” Mac said.
“How far are we from there now?” Coop asked.
“Had we not come across this ship we’d been off the coast tonight. Now, I’m thinking two maybe three days,” Mac replied.
A shout was heard, a woman’s voice, so Mac and Coop ran back toward mid ships. Rosita was standing there; hand in her mouth obviously frightened.
“What is it?” Coop asked.
The girl didn’t speak, she just pointed over the side. There must have been close to one hundred dead slaves thrown overboard. Now the sharks were among them, gray fins everywhere. Mac and Cooper both gasped. No wonder the girl was frightened. It was a feeding frenzy.
“I wouldn’t put a boat in the water with that going on,” Cooper said.
“Me either,” Mac said.
Cooper looked across the way to where the Dashing Debbie lay hove-to. He was glad Sophia was not on deck to see this. In fact, he wished he hadn’t and said as much to Mac. Will they drift away, he wondered but didn’t ask.
Moree was soon back, “Orville said this was his first voyage on this ship so we asked his Dago mates. They said the captain didn’t waste space for such on a short voyage. So we can look but I doubt we find anything useful.”
“You speak Spanish,” Cooper asked.
“A little but Orville speaks it good. That’s what got him the job,” Moree replied. He had a chew in his mouth so he walked a few steps over to the rail to spit. “Jesus, sweet Jesus,” the man from Georgia exclaimed. “Don’t reckon I ever seen such a sight as that.” Hearing Moree, several other men came over to look. “Stay away from the bottle and the rails tonight, mates…otherwise!”
By the time the slave tiers were cleaned and the rest of the slaves fed, the sun was going down.
“Might as well get some lanterns lit and set about. I’ll make a signal to the captain and let him know we’re staying aboard this tonight,” Mac volunteered.
“Think he’ll guess why?” Cooper asked.
“He’s an old hand, Coop. He’s bound to have seen at least some of the sharks and he’s sure to have seen the bodies go over the side. He knows why we are staying,” Mac said.
Cooper called to Spurlock and had him set up a watch. “Don’t know that I trust our new hands,” Cooper told Mac.
“No, they’re probably like most sailors, full of mischief and bear considerable watching,” Mac replied. This caused Cooper to grin.
“Let’s go search the captain’s cabin. Could be if we promise a little reward Rosita might be helpful,” Cooper said.
“I’ll give her a reward,” Mac teased. “No wonder the captain kept her close. She’s a pretty little wench. She’d definitely keep the bed warm on cold and damp nights. Bet she’d stir a few at the quadroon ball in New Orleans. Cream colored skin, brown eyes, and a body made for pleasure. She looks more Spanish than not.”
Cooper listened to Mac ramble. “Aye, she was a pert little something but compared to Sophia…well, there was no comparison. Call the wench, Mac, and if need be I’ll volunteer for the first watch.”
“Well, Coop, you are a good mate, damme if you ain’t.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
It was a new day. The sun came up over the horizon revealing an empty sea as far as the eye could see. The sharks had had their fill and swam on looking for another meal. The slaves moved on deck, twenty-five at a time, and were hosed down gently with sea water. Only one more slave had died during the night. Like the others he was cast over the side. Rosita and the two Dons cooked up more of the skillygalee. The slaves filled their bellies.
“It won’t take long before we are out of food. I never knew you could pack so many humans in one ship. I heard once a man named Brooks carried six hundred and nine from Africa. Almost that on this tub,” Cooper snorted.
“It was supposed to have been a short cruise,” Orville explained, only to get glared at by Cooper and Mac.
Boats put out from Dashing Debbie with a new crew to relieve the men from the previous day. Cooper went over for a visit and to inform Captain Taylor of his and Mac’s discovery. He was welcomed aboard warmly by Sophia, who, after a warm greeting backed off and exclaimed, “You need a bath.”
“Time for that later,” Taylor said, shooing the women away.
“We have four hundred and nine of the pitiful buggers,” Cooper said very bluntly. “How the slavers put up with such is beyond me. I’m no saint, Captain, but to treat a human in such a way is more than I can understand.”
“Not much we can do about that, now is there, Coop?” Taylor asked.
Eying his captain for a moment, Cooper looked down, shaking his head. “No sir, there’s not. The ship’s register says she’s the something Inez. She’s out of Santiago, Cuba bound for Bermuda.”
“Not any more she’s not,” Taylor said. “She’s now destined for Savannah. We need to get a tow on her right away and put as many miles behind us as possible. Every day will mean more slaves lost.”
Cooper wondered if the captain was thinking from a humane point of view or of profit but he did not ask. “We found the captain’s funds with the help of his little mulatto. Mac promised her one hundred dollars if she could help us find it. She led us straight to it. Two boards near the stern come up and there are several bags of Spanish coin. About seventeen thousand, Mac figures, before her finder’s fee.”
“She take any persuasion,” Taylor asked.
“Well, she and Mac were alone for an hour or so.” Cooper had made his way to the entry port as he spoke. Reaching it, he turned and smiled, “I’m not really sure who was persuading who, Captain.”
“Be off with you, Coop, before you get Sophia stirred up.”
***
Rigging the tow was simpler than Cooper realized it would be. A boat was rowed over with a rope attached to a line. Quang too
k a boat hook and pulled the rope up and fed it through the hawsehole. By pulling this way a heavier towing hawser was gotten on board and fastened around the capstan.
Mac then set the men working so that the hawser would not chafe. Cooper looked on, learning and making mental notes. I would like to see how it’s rigged on the other end, he thought. When he mentioned this to Mac, his friend promised to draw schematics demonstrating a couple of methods but related there were illustrations in the book on seamanship he’d purchased in New Orleans.
Prior to getting underway Taylor came aboard with several lanterns. “If we have a soldier’s wind we may continue the tow through the night.” Three vertical lanterns from either ship meant ‘cut the tow line’.
“Do you want to take the extra cargo back with you, Captain,” Cooper asked. “It might lessen the temptation from the ship’s original crew if they see it leaving the ship.”
“Good idea, Coop, I’ll divide it with Sophia if we lose you somewhere.” Cooper stopped and stared at Taylor.
“Close your mouth, Coop, he’s kidding,” Mac said, and then added, “we won’t cast you adrift while I’m on board.”
“Bloody arse,” Cooper hissed, “both of you.” He then let a smile creep onto his face. “I’ve no worries. Once Sophia had a real man she’d not look twice at the likes of you.”
“Disrespect…disrespect is what it is, Mr. MacArthur, and to think I’ve took him under my wing like I have.”
“Aye, Captain, it’s his youth I’m thinking,” Mac said.
Shaking their heads as if in deep quandary, Mac walked Captain Taylor to the entry port with Cooper following close behind. As Taylor started down the battens, he grasp the handrope and shouted, “Sophia was right, Cooper. You do need a bath. You stink, lad, you stink.”
All of the crew started laughing at Coop. “We’ll rig the deck pump before you go over again, Coop,” Mac said gently slapping his friend on the shoulder.
***
The weather and the tow held and aside from it getting tricky a few times when they tacked, the voyage was uneventful. At noon on the third day, they arrived at the mouth of the Savannah River. Just inside Tybee Roads, the Inez was cut loose from the tow and anchored.
“I’d not want to tackle Horseshoe Shoal with a tow,” Captain Taylor admitted.
“What fort is that?” Mac asked.
“Fort Pulaski,” Taylor advised. “I will send a boat over to tell them what we are about. Still, don’t be alarmed if a guard boat comes over.”
“Humph,” Mac snorted. “Anchored under the lee of a fort’s big guns, what’s not to be alarmed over?”
Taylor smiled, “A British sailor no doubt would be anxious in such a situation. Bring the slaves on deck and sluice them off. We will ferry them into Savannah and put them in the barracoon. I need to see my business associates and our Savannah lawyer. We will have a set of rooms at the River Street Inn. The men will be put up at the East Bay Inn. You may want to clean up there before going to the River Street Inn. I’m not sure they’d allow you in …as you are now.”
“So I’m not fitting for the River Inn?” Cooper asked, acting hurt.
“Let’s just say you’d not be out of sorts at the East Bay Inn. It’s been around since 1762, and the River Inn is brand new. I would imagine their patrons would be a little sensitive for you to enter reeking as you do,” Taylor said.
“They should smell the slaves that have been cooped up in the hell hole then,” Cooper snarled, not joking this time.
“Yes, well there is little either of us can do to change society. I can see a change coming, mind you, Coop, but it’ll take another fifty or sixty years,” Taylor said.
***
Savannah was a different city all together compared to New Orleans. Cooper and Mac had just seen the last of the slaves removed from the ship when a boat carrying a number of men showed up with a note from Captain Taylor. They would relieve the crew and go about washing the Inez down and fumigating the ship with brimstone.
Now that they were presentable, having been scrubbed clean in flower of lilac water; the men hailed down the only cab they saw. Flyers were posted on store fronts and on the sides of buildings. Each one letting the good citizens of Savannah know a play was to be held at the coffee exchange. The golf club was giving lessons and a horse race was scheduled on Sunday at the Jockey Club Race Track. There were bills advertising slave auctions everywhere as well.
“Damme,” Cooper said. “We traded one odor for another.”
“Stop whining, Coop. You heard the lady, ‘If it was good enough for King Louis of France, its good enough for the likes of you’. Besides,” Mac added, “we may get some stares but they aren’t holding their nose and running away.”
“Well, there’s that,” Cooper admitted. A change of clothes had been left at the East Bay Inn. “I guess we do look presentable even if we smell to high heaven,” Cooper said, not letting the subject die.
“Just for that,” Mac informed his friend, “you will pay the cab fare.”
Cooper had his back to the driver, so he didn’t know they had reached their destination. Mac briskly jumped down from the cab and waited by the inn’s entrance. They inquired at the desk as to their rooms. The clerk was a pleasant, busy man who obviously had been expecting them. “We have a note for you, gentlemen, I believe,” he said.
“Who from?” Cooper asked.
“A Captain Taylor, I believe,” the clerk said.
Mac looked at his friend, and then at the clerk. “You know or you believe?”
“I’m quite sure it was the captain, sir. I believe he’s in the tavern, sir, with some other gentlemen.” The clerk now looked nervous and was not sure how to take this sweet smelling British sailor.
Cooper and Mac walked through a doorway into the inn’s tavern, or as a sign decried, Ye Ole Public House. The tavern was dimly lit but each table had a candlestick holder with three candles. A huge fireplace smelled of a recent fire. Seeing his men, Taylor called over to them. As they approached the table, three other men stood up.
“Gentlemen, meet my two finest officers, David MacArthur, formally of the Royal Navy, and Cooper Cain. Cooper is just learning but has the makings of a good ship’s captain. Mac, Cooper, meet Gregory Clark, he’s one of my lawyers. He will be asking each of you a few questions about the Inez. How we found her, her state when we came upon her, any crewmen or passengers left aboard and the state in which they were found. Also, please inform Mr. Clark as to the live cargo, the condition they were in, the number dead and so on including how we were able to bring the ship into the Tybee Roads.”
Cooper and Mac were both quick to pick up on Taylor’s comment about live cargo and not valuables found. Taylor then introduced his Savannah business associates, Mr. John Will and Michael Brett. Pleasant conversation was had over a round of ale. Will and Brett took their leave with the promise of a fine dinner and a play the next evening.
Clark apologized about detaining the men but felt certain statements and affidavits had to be completed before the ship and cargo could be considered salvage and disposed of. An hour later, he advised the men that that was all he needed for the time being. He would now make his way to the East Bay Inn where Spurlock had the three sailors from the Inez under close watch.
As Rosita was nothing more than a traveling companion for Inez’s captain, it was doubtful they would need any testimony from her. “Indeed, what information could she possibly have,” Mac repeated to Coop when they were away from the lawyer.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Sophia and Cooper nestled together, spent from their passion but too excited to sleep. Sophia lay in Cooper’s arms. “I had a good time tonight, my love,” she said.
“I’m glad,” Cooper yawned.
“I was a little anxious when I was told we were going out with the captain’s friends,” Sophia said.
“Why?” Cooper asked.
“I wasn’t sure what they’d think of me,” she replied.
<
br /> “They thought you were the absolutely most beautiful creature. That’s what they thought,” Cooper reassured his wife.
“Coop, have you ever been to a play before?”
“No,” he answered.
“Me neither. What was the name of the group?”
“Why,” he asked.
“I’d like to see them again,” she said.
“Are you worth the dollar a ticket?”
“Hmm,” Sophia whispered. “Only you can answer that,” she said, taking his hand and laying it on top of her breasts.
“I guess you are worth it,” he said, feeling her nipple harden. “The company was Charles Gilferts Charles Town Theater Company.”
“Did you think they were good, Cooper?”
“I enjoyed it.”
“I loved it,” she told Cooper.
“I’m glad,” Cooper replied as Sophia’s hand traveled down his abdomen.
“Did you like Tondee’s Tavern?” she asked.
“Yes, I thought the food was excellent.”
“Did you like the wine?”
“Uh huh,” he said.
“It made me a little tipsy.”
“I think you’re always a little tipsy,” he replied. “Ouch, don’t pinch so hard.”
“Then be nice or I’ll move my hand.”
“I’ll be nice.”
“Would you like to live in Savannah, Cooper?”
“I’m not sure yet. Eli is going to look at some land that’s for sale. I think he’s trying to talk Debbie into making a move from New Orleans.”
“Why love?” Sophia asked.
“To put his past behind him. Here, he’s only known as a sea captain and not as a pirate,” Cooper said.
“Does the men he does business with know?”
“I’m sure they do, but it’s customary for merchants to turn their heads. Look at all of them doing business with LaFitte and his brothers.” After a pause, Cooper whispered, “Sophia?”