I can’t be sure of where they come from or if they’re troublesome!” It was enough to alert my wits, for no man can be trusted who is not one of your company.
“Samuels! Raise the alarm! Cannoneers to your stations! Fox, keep your eye upon those vessels, lad. Sollertis can you tell what they be? Marks alert the orlop, men to their stations, go. Inform the cap’n on your way.” I could not tell myself what the vessels were as I glanced over them with my spy glass. They were enormous however, ‘twas with a weary mind I looked whilst the crew gathered to their stations.
‘Twas not long before we had been alerted to the ships that Arnold May identified them as Spanish Galleons, impressed as I was there was no time to dwell on their intentions, ‘twas vital to be prepared for a stand should they be hostile.
“What be the situation, Sailor?” Rike came from his quarters with haste to join me in looking over the Spanish vessels, Achilles stood by his side too peering out onto the horizon.
“Are ye sure they be Spanish?.. Tis Arnold, no?” The new recruit nodded at Rike.
“Unmistakable sir.” His accent was very plain and easy to understand.
“Have Samuels continue headin’ south west, Sailor, we’ll be seein’ where they head before we act on the situation. Keep the crew alert, lad, this seems awful suspicious.” Rike headed to the beak of the vessel and I went myself to the helm to inform Samuels of the plan. ‘Twas a strange atmosphere without Davey onboard in such a situation as this, although he would often yell at the cannoneers with language fouler than I care to recite, ‘twas too this behaviour that spurred the crews energy, driven by fear of our quartermaster, the men would be irate and ready for action.
“As fast as you can get her goin’, lad!” The captain yelled at me as I made my way, though our speeds had trouble increasing for ‘twas such a fine day, the seas were barely stirring and ‘twas with the weakest of winds we were pushed.
With anxiety we continued to watch the pursuing vessels, alert as we were the day drew on and we had not made any distance between the galleons. It was clear the captain had a troubled mind. He was to make a bold decision upon that afternoon. As we each stood at our stations, myself with Samuels at the helm of the vessel, he came to me with Sollertis and Achilles.
“Samuels, slow ‘er up, much as you can, upon my command turn starboard upon the bastards.”
“Sir?” Our navigator looked at our captain with fear in his face.
“We’ll let ‘em think we be givin’ way. Sailor ‘ave someone take the roger down, place a white flag upon the nest. When they be close enough we’ll blow ‘em out o’ the water. Sollertis is confident ‘is new bombs shall be doin’ the trick. ‘ave the rear mast collapsed, we need to lose some speed.” I had never once questioned an order of captain Rike, but I stood for a moment feeling a great unease strike me.
“Aye, capt’n.” I nodded, going myself to have Fox replace our jolly roger. Sollertis too went on his way as Samuels attempted to slow Roselyn by steering her in and out of the winds.
Captain Rike came down from the helm onto the upper deck of Roselyn. “Be calm, men! Away from your cannons, you shall not be usin’ ‘em upon this day, down to the orlop, go, you can be watchin’ the enemy from within. We do not wish to startle ‘em. Come, lads, quick as you can!”
We each fell quickly down into the orlop, through the cannon’s barrel holes we could view the ocean and the Spanish galleons who were still a vast distance away from us. The only men who remained on top deck were Samuels at the ship’s steering post and Fox who remained up in the crow’s nest, brave men they were.
Down in the orlop Sollertis burst from the door of his chamber with a small box and his three makeshift bamboo cannons which he struggled to carry in his arms. “Harvey! Help me lower them.” I relieved him of his awkward load and together we rested the box on the woodwork of the orlop deck, hastily the boatswain prized it open with a small blade. Within were three cannon balls. I quickly realised they were not regular, and indeed were the bombs Sollertis had been designing whilst we rested in Port Royal.
“You have only three, Sollertis?” I asked.
“It shall be all that is necessary, Harvey. Believe me,” he leaned towards me and whispered with a manic grimace, “should these bombs fail to fire, our boat will be no more.”
“How does the captain know they will work?” I retorted, alarmed by Sollertis’ calmness.
“Well, he wishes to.” The boatswain smiled at me and I knew he was confident in his own abilities. Sollertis’ face was rather distinct, other than the sheer look of insanity that seemed to seep from his eyes, he was very rugged looking. I believe his constant working and lack of resting was the result, for he looked incredibly worn down, even from my days as a child, ‘twas something I had always noticed. It was clear he rushed almost everything that was personal to him so he may continue with his work. The only time he appeared to rest would be at his chessboard, allowing any man on deck to play him, even in his free time he wished for his mind to be constantly challenged. He seemed always to express a look of suppressed madness, as if his brain was constantly burning with ideas that often even he himself could not begin to understand or create.
“Which of ‘em’ll I put ‘em inner, bos’n?” One of the cannoneers asked lunging forward to grasp a black pearl.
“NONE!” Sollertis flinched, protecting the bombs before releasing an uneasy laugh. “That you will, Everett, leave well alone that which does not concern you. These must be placed with utmost delicacy. Captain, we must steady her up, should the boat be turning when we shoot we may well miss our targets, or worse.” The captain looked at Sollertis, then at the wall of the orlop, he swallowed and I knew even he was concerned over the potential outcome of Sollertis’ plan.
“What’s you mean be worse, bos’n?” Everett asked.
“Nothing to fear.” The boatswain replied looking up at Rike. We all stared at the captain in silence. He looked at the floor for some time before a number of men jumped. Fox burst through the hatchway that lead to the upper deck startling the entranced men.
“They’re gettin’ close, captain!” He was sweating and out of breathe, Rike looked up at him.
“Tell Samuels to line ‘er up with ‘em, lad, and let ‘em come close, then quick as you can lad down ‘ere.” Fox went with haste as we continued to peer through the cannon holes out at the incoming Spanish vessels.
“Do you think they be chasin’ us for the Martona, cap’n?” One of the crew asked.
“Aye, lad, ‘tis most likely, though they be makin’ a foolish mistake, there be not a chance in Davey’s locker that I be givin’ up this ship.” The entire crew cheered and I remembered where I was and who I was amongst: Fearless, loyal pirates.
“Withdraw these three cannons, men, and remove the barrels from the woodwork. Hurry!” In a moment of desperation the entire crew worked together to move the three centre cannons away from their firing holes within the orlop’s starboard, in the struggle a large deckhand named Adam Liner stumbled backwards and crushed one of the fragile bamboo cannon shafts under his heavy weight. I recall expecting an enraged Sollertis to begin cursing the man however it seemed in the moment his concentration upon the present dilemma was far more important.
“Two shots it is! Thank you, Liner. Please make sure the barrels are clean, men, and then pack the powder. Not a thing must go wrong.” Sollertis rose with one of the bombs. The crew began to pack gunpowder into the two remaining bamboo cannons, whilst the cannoneers worked away the rest of us lifted the metal shafts of our regular cannons off of their woodwork and with a great struggle rested them upon the orlop’s surface.
“Be careful with them, they are extremely fragile.” Sollertis’ eyes darted back and forth between the bamboo cannons ensuring none of the cannoneers were too rough with them. The very moment the powder was packed we hastily rested them on the woodwork of our regular cannons. Sollertis sweated immensely, watching the men. He clutched his inventions tightly before placing t
hem with utmost delicacy into the fragile bamboo shafts.
“This must be done with precision.” Sollertis glared at the cannons, he began to breathe more heavily. Sweat poured from his forehead.
“They be restin’ on our woodwork, sir.”
“Raise them, with care, for us all, with care.” As the boatswain whispered Fox once more yanked the upper deck hatchway up causing more men to flinch.
“They’re turnin’ starboard upon us, cap’n! They’re preparin’ fire!” He yelled down.
“Sollertis!” The captain glared at the boatswain.
“Wait!” He snapped staring out through his spyglass. We each stood in silence with fearful anticipation, helpless in the current situation thoughts of my childhood flooded my mind and the faces of those whom I had ever held dearest throughout my life. After two heavy breathes he at last gave the command. “Fire.”
Softly he spoke and the cannons were lit. The crew cowered as the flaring sound of the ignited gunpowder combusted with the resonance of a great clap of thunder, releasing Sollertis’ bombs across the Caribbean Sea. I have heard hundreds of cannons fired in my time, yet the sound these made was like nothing I know. Through the deafening sound of the blast the splitting of the bamboo along the powder lined seams could be heard, it was the sound of life, for had those