Pirate

We had several hours to wait until the sun was up and it would be safe to navigate. I brought him some food and water, which he ate and drank greedily. I left him after a time and went to adjust the boat to her new anchorage. Satisfied the anchor held the boat in deep enough water and in the center of the channel, I went below and we told our stories while we waited for daylight.

They had been a crew of a dozen, running fish, turtles, and tobacco from Havana to New Orleans in an older wide-beamed ketch when a storm had brought them into Key West. They had left the port after the weather cleared and noticed a boat shadowing them as they moved up the coast. They were apprehended and boarded several hours later, with half their crew dying in the fight. The pirates took the cargo and scuttled their boat, forcing the remaining men to the hold, where they hadn’t seen daylight in what he guessed was a week.

“Four were dead, and there’s another below. He’s alive.” I finished our story, leaving out the murders of the pirates.

“What are your intentions, then?” he asked, just as the first ray of light showed above the line of water to the east.

My plan at the moment was to find a deep-water pass to the Gulf side and our island, but without an accurate chart or guide, that would prove impossible.

“Time to get underway, we need to move,” I said, as I rose from the bench. We went to the deck and I took the helm, while Syd and Swift went into the rigging. Without a command, they unfurled the mainsail, and the light breeze moved the boat forward on the rope holding the ballast. They climbed down and went to the bow. Swift took in the slack, wound it around the winch, and with Syd’s help, hauled the weight toward the boat.

There was no way to secure the object, so as it came aboard we dropped it into the hold. I couldn’t help but notice the sheen to it, but had to wait until we were clear of the shoals before examining it. The boat was floating free and, with a light touch, I was able to steer toward deeper water. Once I felt we were safely in Hawk’s Channel, the band of deep water running between land and the reef, I turned the helm over to Syd and went to inspect the object.

Mason followed me into the hold, and I brushed my hand against the metal, using my shirt to clean the scum from its surface. It shone back, a silver hue.

35

I set the mystery of the ballast from my mind, as the need to navigate through the narrow channel became paramount. The sun was high enough to show the shallows a light green, and I called out directions from the rigging. The breeze was light from the northeast, causing us to trim the sails as we beat into it. The channel was wide, but I dared not press the edges as the huge hunks of coral that formed the reef would tear the bottom from our boat. The area I judged to be safe was too narrow to tack, which caused us to creep forward into the wind, with the sails luffing instead of full.

I climbed down from my perch after we were clear of the last obstacle and ordered a course to the east. There was some room to maneuver in the channel between land and the reef, but if we were to make any progress today we would have to cross the reef line into deeper water. I went to the helm and glanced around the deck for Mason, but he was nowhere in sight. Syd was a the wheel and must have caught my look.

“Went into the hold to tend his mate,” he said as I approached.

“Bad deal those men went through.”

“Aye,” he replied.

“We need to cross the reef and head for deeper water if we are to make any distance today.”

“That’s serious business.”

I looked out to sea and knew his concern. Since the beginning of Spanish conquest, hundreds of years ago, ships had followed this stretch of water between the islands to our left and the Bahamas somewhere over the horizon to our right. It was common knowledge that the reef had claimed more ships than pirates had. “All the same. If the Navy is giving chase we need to stay ahead of them.”

He cut the wheel to starboard and the sails snapped as the wind filled them. I could see the veins in his arms as he fought the wheel against the weather helm. “Back her a few degrees and she’ll ride better.”

Syd moved the wheel back to port.

“What’s all this?” Swift called as he came on deck. “Can’t a man get some sleep?”

“Course is set now, but you might stay a bit. We are going to cross the reef in a few minutes,” I said.

“Bloody hell. That reef’s more dangerous than a bent-tooth whore.”