Pirate

We made our way around the exposed seaward side of the island and were well into the protected waters of the sound when we paused. I looked across the large channel at the land on either side, wondering where to go. A mile across the water in the direction of the mainland was the cover we sought. Dozens of small islands surrounded by shallow water were scattered along the coast. Exhausted, we knew we were in a life or death situation, and we worked through the pain of our aching muscles, pulling hard on the oars. Thankfully, we paddled with a flood tide, made even stronger by the full moon. If the tide had been outgoing, we would have been treading water, but instead the extra two knots helped push our boats toward land. Rhames sat by my side, grunting with every pull and giving me cross looks as his strokes, more powerful than mine, kept moving the boat toward starboard, where I sat. I knew the estuary as well as any man and navigated while he watched the horizon behind us for any sign of pursuit.

As we reached land, we collapsed on our oars, exhausted by the effort of the hour-long row. We floated into a cove in the lee of a horseshoe-shaped island hidden from view from the seaward side. I had seen no boats yet, but we all knew they would come. The legend of the treasure on our boats was widespread, sought by both pirates and the United States Navy.

“Well, Nick? What do you think?” Rhames said, after he caught his breath.

I was shocked by the question. He was technically second in command after the captain, but most knew it was more for his loyalty and brutality than for his wits. My only guess was that after several years of bringing him orders from the captain, that he looked to me as Gasparilla’s surrogate. I took the chance and retained the authority. Leaving our state of affairs to pirate law—meaning the consensus of the group—would probably result in several deaths and the loss of our treasure. When we were safe we could choose a leader, but for now I had an idea.

“They’re bound to follow. I saw the captain go overboard with the anchor chain around his waist and his cutlass in his hand.” The statement was met by murmurs of approval. Pirates lived hard and died young, with the exception of our captain, who was sixty-five this year. I remembered the look on his face as we approached the disguised ship and thought he might have had second thoughts about retiring. Dying with your cutlass in your hand brought you to a pirate’s version of Valhalla, and those who fell in battle were revered. “I saw the ship go down, but there are no boats after us yet. We’ve got a good head start, but they’ll be on our scent soon enough.” I looked from man to man trying to gauge them from the looks on their faces. These were men, although equals by the code, who were used to taking orders.

I tried to anticipate the next move the Navy captain would make. The frigate would have put their longboats in the water as soon as the Floridablanca went down. I was guessing they had at least twenty boats—twice ours, each holding half-a-dozen well-armed men. The sun, although it was only a third of the way into the sky, was near its winter zenith, indicating noon. That would give us about five hours of daylight to reach a safe haven. Considering our head start and the tide change, which would hamper their efforts this afternoon, I figured they would be no further than where we now sat by dusk.

“We’ve got to head inland.” All eyes were on me, and I heard my voice crack, belaying my nervousness. “The Peace River is at the end of the bay. There is a woman there that the captain trusted.” I heard several ayes and the men readied to row. I looked over at Rhames and he nodded at me, a small smile on his face. Surely he knew that once we reached land he could overpower us and take the treasure for himself. There was not a man amongst us that would contest him—and he had the only pistol.

As we rowed through the small islands toward the point of land that marked the entrance to the bay, I started to question my decision. My mouth was already dry, and I realized we had no food or water. Fortunately, the December air was cooler and less humid than the summer months, but we would have to find drinking water by dark. The cover of the islands was behind us, and we were exposed as we neared the headland. I looked past the point to the open water that lay beyond. Several times, the captain had taken me and several other men through here to a farm called Spanish Homestead, where he favored the Lady Boggess. My plan was to reach the homestead and seek her sympathy and protection, either because of her hatred of the Navy for killing her husband, or through bribery.