Pirate

That was all he said, but it was all that was needed. In agreement we turned to the west and led the small convoy through the chain of islands. By noon, the wind had started to die and the rowing became easier but, as our anxiety about the seas diminished, our hunger and thirst began to dominate our thoughts.

“We have to find some food,” I said to Rhames, who only grunted.

“We get a turtle, it’ll hold us for a while.” I pointed toward an inlet that looked like it turned into a small river. “They won’t think of looking in there, and I have an idea.”

He pulled hard on his oar, and we swung toward the mouth of the inlet. The other boats followed, and we made landfall on a gravel beach about a hundred feet in. We gathered around the boats, the group again looking to me for leadership.

“They’re going to think that we are heading for the Spanish Homestead and the Lady Boggess. We should be safe in here. Red, take five men and follow the river in. We need fresh water and food—oysters, turtle—even a gator. Some coconuts would be good as well.

“What about you?” Red asked. “You gonna sit here and sleep?”

I met the first resistance to my leadership easily. “Rhames and I are going to create a diversion.” They all looked at me again. “We need to empty one of the chests.” They eyed me suspiciously, but I ignored them. “We meet back here at sunset—and be ready to row.”

“What about the loot?” Red asked.

He was quickly becoming my opposition, “We empty one chest and combine its contents with the others. You take the rest.” That seemed to satisfy him, and we split into two groups. Rhames and I waited as the men took three of the boats and started to move inland. We set the empty chest in the boat so it was visible above the gunwales.

“Well, I hope you have a plan,” Rhames said.

I sat on the beach with my back to the boat. “We need the tide,” I said and closed my eyes to give the illusion that I actually knew what I was doing. Unable to sleep, my mind was trying to finish cooking the half-baked plan that I had sold the men on. I was counting on the tide to float the empty boat toward the Peace River, giving the Navy men reinforcement for what they already thought—that we were heading to Spanish Harbor. We would hike back here after sending the boat. With their attention upriver, I intended to regroup at sunset and head west, using the night for cover. The chain of islands that protected us ended a mile from here, and we would be exposed for several hours once we left their cover and be visible to the frigate until we reached the channel leading to the Caloosahatchee River. From there, we could continue down the coast and seek refuge in the marshes.

We would need to leave close to midnight and before the moon rose. We would pass the river mouth, exit the protection of the waterway, and head for Estero Bay. The portage required to enter the bay from the north ought to discourage pursuit. The bay offered excellent vantage points to observe anyone entering from sea, and its many islands offered refuge. We could regroup and plan there.

Rhames was asleep when I woke him an hour later. “Time.” He seemed to like simple commands.

He rose and shook his dreadlocks out. With his help, we pushed the boat into the shallow water. We jumped into the lead boat and started to row, the empty hull with its barren chest following behind. The wind had died a bit, but was still brisk, and helped push us toward the mouth of the Peace River as we exited the protection of the inlet. I motioned for Rhames to hold water. The wind and tide were working in our favor now. We stayed in the lee of the islands and out of view of the longboats I expected to be close by. At the headland we beached the boat. As I was about to push the sacrificial craft into the current, Rhames stopped me. “It’s a bit of a walk back there.”

I nodded, and we pushed the boat off the bank. We stood there as the tide and wind took it around the headland and into the river. I heard someone yell and turned to look back into the bay, where a handful of longboats were speeding toward the river mouth. The boat had been spotted. With no time to watch our plan unfold, we started a fast hike back toward the inlet, trudging through the marshy muck that permeated the shallows. As we approached, I saw a small stream of smoke coming from the beach we had departed from and picked up our pace.

7

“Douse it now!” I yelled, as we pushed through the brush and onto the beach. Rhames didn’t wait, he ran to the firepit and hurled sand onto the flames. The men had killed and brought back a large loggerhead turtle, which now lay on its back in the embers. Worried we might have been spotted, I sent two men with one of the boats to the mouth of the inlet to stand watch. The Navy ship lay less than a half-mile away and, although we were screened by the island and brush, they could still see the smoke.