Pirate

The sea sparkled in the predawn hours with the moon reflecting off the small waves. The wind continued to blow from the northeast, but was a light breeze now. From our days at sea I knew that times like this were rare. Out of a fortnight on the water, two days might be like this, two would have the men leaning over the rails emptying their stomachs, and the rest would be somewhere in between. I was able to relax with Rhames and Mason onboard, both better sailors than I.

Around dawn Rory came on deck and sat by me. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“I’d give a gold piece for yours,” I countered. This drew a spell of silence, but she finally relented.

“Were you serious about swearing off the pirate life?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure where this was going, but answered honestly. “I was never really a pirate, but abducted like you.”

“I know, but you let the crew murder those men back at the river.”

“I’m in a bit of a tenuous position. They trust me for my brain, not my brawn. I can’t fight like them and can only watch when the bloodlust strikes.” I felt awkward telling her my weakness, but it was the truth. When the men got that look in their eyes, I could only stand back and watch.

“This man Mason, he seems more like you.”

A wave of jealousy passed through me, and I waited to respond. “He’s told me of this equipment that lets a man breathe underwater.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“We’ve got a taste of wrecking now and with the Navy prowling around, there’s no future in pirating. It’s kind of like looting a ship, but they need your help.”

“So you intend to be a wrecker?” she asked

“Something to think about. But from what Mason has told me, with many of these shipwrecks the heavier cargo often finds its way to the bottom. Treasure fleets have been running these waters for hundreds of years.” I leaned back and looked at the stars, dreaming about finding one of the old Spanish armadas loaded with the wealth of the lower Americas.

We sat in silence for a while and watched the sun come up. Key West would be about six hours ahead if I guessed our speed correctly. I needed to know her aim before we reached port. “Are you still planning on seeking out a ship?”

She sat and stared at the deck. “It’s crossed my mind that I might be safer not rushing into things.”

My heart leapt in my chest and I tried to hide my excitement. “Well, Lucy would be happy for the company.”

“And not you?” She leaned closer.

We sat that way, watching the waves until Mason called from the helm.

“It’s your watch,” he called to me.

I moved slightly and realized she was fast asleep. As gently as I could, I eased her against the bulkhead and went to the wheel.

“You need to learn to sail this craft of yours,” he said, and moved from the wheel. For the next two hours he coached me, teaching the nuances of riding waves and staying on course. Before I knew it, the mass of Key West loomed in the distance, and he asked my plan.

“We need to make a run in the deeper water past the entrance to the harbor and hope the frigate’s not watching. There are two islands off the coast a bit. I mean to anchor in between them.”

“You know what kind of water you’re talking about? I know the spot. It may look deep to the eye, but that’s the turtle grass darkening the water and making it look deeper than it is. Hold the course, I’ll be back,” he said, went to the companionway, and disappeared.

A few minutes later he emerged with a lead and held it out to me. “It’s wax melted on it,” he said.

I looked confused and he continued. “The wax will tell you what kind of bottom you’re in.” He went forward and dropped the wax-coated weight. A few seconds later, he pulled in the line and brought the weight to me. Sand coated the wax. “See that? Hard bottom. It’ll come in handy up ahead.”

I got all hands on deck as we reached the key and stayed at the wheel, with Mason behind me. I called orders to trim the sails as I turned close to ninety degrees and headed north. I wanted as much speed as she could muster as we passed the mouth of the harbor, and I wasn’t disappointed as the boat groaned under the load of the wind and heeled over. In less than a minute we were past the entrance, hopefully unseen.

Mason took the lead to Syd and had him toss it as the rest of the crew dropped the sails, leaving only the main, and prepared to anchor. Syd called out the depths and bottom as we approached the gap between the islands. As soon as he called mud, I knew we were in the grass and ordered the anchor dropped.

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