Pirate

I left the cabin and went on deck, where I climbed aloft and looked out at the islands off the port side. There were three, and the larger looked to be a few hundred yards around, fair size, but you never knew if the mangroves concealed solid land or swamp. The deep water went to within feet of a small beach. There was a little light left, and I called to several of the men sitting on the deck to haul one of the canoes out of the hold.

We rigged the block and tackle to the canoe and, with four of us on the line, hauled the craft into the clear, swung it over the side, and set it in the water. I wanted to take Rory so I could tell her my plan without the prying ears of the crew, but she wasn’t in sight. Instead, I decided on Blue. If there was any man amongst us who could judge the habitat, it was him.

We climbed down the rope ladder and dropped into the boat, where we each took a paddle, and made our way toward the island. We quickly reached the small beach I had seen from the rigging, where we landed. I got out of the canoe, realizing we had arrived sans weapons, but there was little threat on this mangrove-covered spit. Blue took the lead as we went to the edge of the brush and entered the interior.

I felt clumsy as I followed him. Where he seemed to navigate the web of palm fronds and mangroves, I stumbled between them. To my surprise, we reached a small clearing near what I expected was the center of the island. It wasn’t large, but was high and dry. It appeared to have been used previously, as there remained evidence of a fire ring, fish bones, and stone tools. I picked up a small scraping stone and examined its crude construction. Everything appeared to be ancient, probably left from an Indian band camped here long ago.

“This is a good place,” Blue said, as he walked the perimeter of the clearing and peered into the brush. “Maybe no water, but the land is solid and there are no bugs.”

He was right. I had expected to be assaulted by mosquitos, but now realized there were none. This island seemed to rise from the water, unlike the moist swamp land the tortuous insects favored. We returned to the beach and paddled the canoe back to the ship just as the sun was about to disappear. I glanced back at the sun, partially cut off by a palm tree extending toward the water, and felt for the first time in weeks that it was good to be alive. That is, until I saw the fiery look on Rory’s face as I climbed the ladder and stepped on the deck.

“Why are we anchored and not in port?” she accused.

“Easy girl,” I said more confidently than I felt. “It’s too late in the day to navigate these waters. We’ll pull anchor and be in port tomorrow.” She glared at me again and went below.

“Girl’s got it for you,” Rhames said.

I wasn’t sure what he meant and ignored the comment. “The land is arid, and there is a clearing toward the center of the island. Tomorrow we can send a group to set up camp there. It’d be a mistake to make port like this.” I looked around at the unwashed and dirty group, our clothes torn and bloodstained. He nodded approval and volunteered to be in charge of the shore party, partially, I expected, because he was the most notorious of our group.

I went below to check the old crew’s stores and see if there were clothes that would fit us, when I heard sobbing coming from behind Rory’s cabin door. I knocked lightly, half-hoping that she would turn me away, but I needed a few minutes with her to explain my plan. To my surprise the door opened.

She was disheveled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I expect you have a plan to get me off this boat?”

“I do, but there is some subterfuge involved.”

“What else would I expect from you?” She turned away.

I explained my plan then left the cabin, feeling amiss about leaving her. Part of me wanted to stay and comfort her; the other, to be far away from her accusations. Before we reached port, I needed to inventory the hold and take some coin for provisions and negotiate a passage for Rory. I grabbed Rhames and asked that he accompany me below. The last thing I needed was to be seen going into the hold alone and arouse the suspicions of the crew.

We took a lantern and climbed the wooden ladder into the hold. I set the lantern down and looked around at the dim and damp space. Our last canoe was on top of several bales of tobacco, the treasure chests off to the side. Across the way were several barrels and crates.

“We should take the treasure ashore in case something happens,” I said as I went to the chests. “It is high enough to bury it there.”

We set the chests below the hold, where they could be lifted in the morning. I opened one, reached in, and took out a handful of gold and silver coins. “I’m taking these to buy her way onto another boat.” I looked up to see if anyone was in earshot and told him my plan.

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