Pirate

I saw Rhames rise in his boat and sniff the air. “Reckon the best thing to do is stay together. There’s no cover for miles if there is any at all. We’re going to have to ride it out.”

What he said made sense. Lashed together, we were heavy and stable. By themselves, the individual boats could capsize in a big wind. I doubted there would be any waves in this kind of water; the sawgrass sticking through every few inches would buffer any build-up. I turned again to the wind and realized that we could use the storm to our favor. The rain would surely raise the level of the water, allowing us to coast over the mud shoals we were constantly fighting, and the wind from the north would push us south, toward the Keys.

“Pull the poles,” I yelled over the building wind. “Check the lashings and make sure the boats are tied together.” In minutes we were floating freely. A loud boom filled the night and an intense light flashed across the sky. The wind picked up another notch as the thunder rolled.

I felt Rory brush against me and looked at her face. A crease formed above her brow, and although it was not panic, there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

“What is it?” I asked. She had been as strong as any man so far.

“It’s nothing.” She turned away. “Just a storm like this one was what put us in your sights.”

I remembered the day. A strong winter front had blown through, but we were protected by our island. At first light we could see a large merchant ship, main mast down and leaning over the transom, its sails draped in the water. It was easy prey, and we took the ship and its cargo without bloodshed.

“We’re safe as long as we stay together.” I tried to reassure her and felt her skin brush against mine as she moved closer. Another blast of thunder and flash of lightning, this time so vivid we could see each vein as it pierced the night sky. The first drops of rain fell, fat on our faces, and we huddled together in the boat. Under normal circumstances I would have been delighted by her closeness, but as the wind started to roar, I feared for our lives.

It was impossible to navigate as the line of clouds passed over heads and blocked the moon. We were destined to go where the storm took us, and held onto the gunnels as the wind pushed us through the sawgrass. Lightning flashed, and I thought I saw it strike in the distance. Minutes later it struck again, and I could see what looked like the glow of a fire on the horizon. The flames grew higher as the wind howled. Suddenly the storm was upon us, and rain started to fall in earnest. Driven by the wind it came in sheets, blocking all visibility.

“Bail the boats,” I yelled into the wind. Rory must have heard me, as she reached for an empty coconut shell and started scooping the water that had already accumulated in the bottom of the canoe.

“We can’t stay out here in this,” she called back to me.

I had been wrong about the sawgrass stopping the wind from forming waves. Small whitecaps were illuminated with every lightning strike, and the raft of boats bounced wildly in the chop. If we hadn’t lashed the boats together, I feared we would have capsized by now. “Where the lightning struck. Did you see the fire?”

“Yes, but …”

“It must be land.” I didn’t wait for an answer, but took one of our paddles and used it as a rudder to steer the raft of boats in the direction I had seen the blaze. I did my best to hold course, but the blade was too small and the bulk of the boats too much. Rhames must have seen my attempt because, he joined me.

All night the storm blew, and we each took turns steering. By daybreak we were tired and waterlogged. There had been no rest, as the rain accumulated in the boats and whoever was not at the helm was forced to bail. The sun, still below the horizon, turned the sky a deep red to our left, and I was at least reassured we were still headed in the right direction. As it rose, the red faded and the orange orb floated into a deep blue sky. It was cooler now, but at least the wind and rain had stopped. We were moving fast as well, the water seeming to have some current to it, and soon I spotted a lone, dead tree on a spit of sand.

“Land,” I yelled, as if we had been at sea for months. A half hour later we unlashed the boats when we were within a few yards of the shore and each poled our craft to the beach.

I was the last ashore and watched as the group collapsed on the ground, exhausted. As I stepped over the gunwale, I felt my leg give out and found myself facedown in the water. Blue and Lucy ran to my aid and hauled me to the beach, where the others gathered round me. It must have been the adrenaline from the storm wearing off because I had felt no pain all night, but now it was back and as harsh as I could imagine. They rolled my pants leg up, and I saw a few men look away at the sight of the claw marks. Red and swollen, the four lines looked like they were about to burst.