The approaching ship was still very far away and cresting the horizon, but it was plain to see from her mirroring movements the Robin was being pursued. Using his folding spyglass, the captain could tell it was a sloop about the same size of the Robin with one large mast and a smaller secondary mast.
The mystery sloop was gaining on the Robin but not by much. Most pirate ships stayed within a few days sail of the coast and traveled light to increase their speed. These ships were stripped down to the essentials and modified for speed. What pirates do not ever reduce is the size of their crews and cannons. Though the Robin’s compliment was fifty souls, a pirate ship of the same size would have around two hundred men. The Robin’s crew was keenly aware of this fact and knew if the ship were boarded, all would be lost.
Captain Gibbons finally came to life in an authoritative role, usurping that of the quartermaster’s. Until now, Mr. Mandrik was in charge of all the ship’s daily activities, but with danger abound, the captain ran everything with supreme, authoritative power. Captain Gibbons barked a stream of orders and the crew quickly fell into a sort of organized chaos. The rigger men were quickly dancing high in the masts as the sailors wrestled with line and tacking, trying desperately to get full sail.
Mr. McLain shouted at Patrick to get under deck and prepare. Patrick froze and McLain saw the fear in his wide eyes. "Get a hold of yourself, man! Focus on your duties. We'll be fine." Patrick nodded and rushed below deck with Mr. McLain.
While rushing along below deck, the master carpenter/surgeon hastily explained what was expected of Patrick. "You'll heat this tar and oakum and be ready to patch holes. The rest of the crew not fighting or sailing will be helping you peg down spare planks and bail water. After the fighting be over, the real fun begins and we'll start treating the dying."
Patrick knew he should be paying close attention to McLain's words, but horrible visions of his head hanging off the mystery sloop’s bowsprit kept invading his mind.
Back topside, the sun was quickly being swallowed by the sea and it was becoming hard to make out the pursuing ship in the long shadows on the water. Captain Gibbons yelled to Mr. Mandrik, “Darken the ship and make haste! All lights are to be extinguished immediately and no sailor will talk over the level of a hummingbird or I will have his tongue.”
“Aye, Cap’n," the quartermaster confirmed his orders. "I will blacken dis ship like night fall, sir.”
The moon was now half waxed and with good eyes, one could make out the dark shadow of a ship against the shimmering blue reflections of the moonlight. Even with his spyglass, the captain could not make out the style of the rigging to determine its weaknesses. Captain Gibbons attempted hard turns and angles to lose the pursuing ship in the darkness. The Robin desperately zigzagged for hours in hopes the pursuing ship would be lost in the darkness. The deck crew worked silently, only occasionally speaking in hushed tones, as they wrestled with keeping the sails full. Every so often, a stream of Irish accented obscenities would drift down from the riggings cracking the silence. Shamus did not seem to understand the concept of a hushed voice and the sounds of cursing would carry across the black water. Barely keeping his temper, Mr. Mandrik reminded the Irish fool to control himself or his tongue would be nailed the mast.
Two hours after sunset the Robin was rewarded with a bit of luck as a bellow of clouds rolled in covering the moon and starlight. The overcast blessedly lasted until sunrise. The deck crew was drenched with sweat as they responded to the captain's every order. The captain took the Robin hard off course in the hopes that it would be lost to the pursuing ship’s sight come morning. The approaching vessel had also darkened herself and was lost to the black of the night. Both ships would have to wait till sunrise to see the results of this seafaring chess battle of strategy.
The Robin’s crew waited in paralyzing fear as the sun slowly overtook the water. The first ray finally caught the water and in minutes lit up the sky. The captain and the crow’s nest lookout were shouting back and forth to each other. The lookout attendant was now very sick and had vomited bile all night into the barrel he was standing in. The sea’s sickening motion was strongly amplified in the crow's nest and very few sailors could take more than a few minutes let alone an entire night's watch. Mr. Mandrik commonly employed the crow's nest as a punishment device for disobedient sailors. The lookout, sickly and green, shouted weakly, “Captain Gibbons, I can’t find her anywhere. I think you sigoogled her.” Indeed, the captain did outflank the mystery ship and could not find her on the horizon.
A great shout of joy went through the crew, but the captain sternly warned them, “Stay focused, gentleman, and stay on course.”
Captain Gibbons then ordered the sailing master to join him on the poop deck. On the highest deck on the ship, the sailing master pulled out an antique astrolabe, held it up into the sun and stared. He then turned his back to the sun and held up a Davis backstaff determining the altitude of the sun. Then the practically blind man pulled out his old quadrant and determined the Robin's longitude by staring directly into the sun with it. With extreme caution, the sailing master gingerly removed the sextant from its protective case. The sailing master knew it was the most valuable item on the ship and if ever dropped, the sextant would be ruined and he would be punished harshly. Because of this, he always attached his sextant to a makeshift lanyard around his neck for safety.
“How far off course are we now?" Captain Gibbons questioned, "How many days did I just add on to our journey?”
As with almost all sailing masters, his eyes were filled with white, cloudy fluid and could barely see in daylight. He held aloft the sextant and sighted the sun and horizon. He looked through the telescope and dropped the shade glass in place as he stared directly into the sun. He knew his eyes would burn and itch hours later for this daytime reading, but he also knew the captain needed it quickly. He would have preferred to wait till the night, relying on the stars for better accuracy, but the grave circumstances demanded a day reading. The sailing master then took a reading with a sundial and compass. He then did a dance, consulting his charts and instruments repeatedly. Never trusting just one instrument, he utilized a combination of old and new navigation technology.
After a few minutes of studying, he looked at the captain with his cloudy, white eyes and reported calmly, “Captain, we be about three days off course now, but I think I can plot a new course across open waters to catch some of the time up.”
“Very good, sir,” Captain Gibbons barked. "Get to plotting!" The Captain knew how risky to chart straight across the open ocean rather than island and coast hop, but he feared pirates more than storms right now.
The crew settled into an uneasy state of alert with all eyes continuously fixed on the horizon. The captain finally relieved the seasick lookout and gave him time to sleep and slowly, the crew returned to their normal watches. With no sight of the pursuing ship to be seen, Captain Gibbon’s knew if he could just get a few more days out to open waters, the Robin would be safe.
They followed the sailing master's course throughout the day and the seas became choppy. As the sun began to set, the seas became even more turbulent and the sky filled with menacing gray clouds. Angry winds filled the sails and started bending the masts sideways until a steady rhythm of rocking was established.
Patrick was woken up by the surgeon’s chest violently sliding into his hammock. The hammock was swinging wildly and Patrick abandoned it as fast as he could. The scarred man was unnerved as heavy items shuffled across the floor while the ship careened. He had taken to sea life fairly well but had not yet earned his sea legs. Until now, he had only felt mildly uncomfortable by the rocking of the sea, but now he was rapidly getting sick. Curiosity took him up deck side to see if they were under attack.
As he came through the hatch, he was pelted with stinging rain. The deck crews had just pulled the sails down and were tying down everything on deck. The crew screamed orders at
each other through the howling wind. A sailor was moaning, like a prophet of doom, that crossing the ocean during the late spring was dangerous. Rain came down in blinding, sideways sheets and Patrick could only see a short distance around the ship. The nightfall was not helping. Against the judgment of the captain, the quartermaster was frantically dropping anchor to no avail. They were now in deep waters and the anchor would find no home.
Patrick realized very quickly that things had just turned treacherous for the Robin. The wheel was spinning wildly as the ship rocked back and forth and started spinning in a circle. Two men grabbed the wheel in an attempt to steady her but even with their collective strength, they could not hold on. Isaac seemed to materialize out of the darkness and rain and he grabbed the spinning wheel. The captain joined the three men and they collectively slowed the out-of-control helm. A scream came from the wooden rudder but it held together. For the rest of the pitch-black night, the crew wrestled with the storm to stay afloat. The quartermaster soon realized what a horrible mistake it was to try and drop anchor and it was causing the Robin to list wildly. In less than an hour a frenzied crew managed to ratchet the anchor back in place.
While struggling against the wheel and the angry sea, Isaac was arguing with one of the sailors when a giant wave crashed over them. When Isaac opened his eyes, the man had simply vanished. Isaac scanned the deck and found the lost man nowhere.
"MAN OVERBOARD!" Isaac screamed as the crew began to echo the call. Men scrambled to help Isaac with the wheel, while others ran to the rail to scan the black waters. A voice desperately screaming for help could be heard from below but he could not be found in the blackness. Fortunately for the man in the drink, flashes of lighting cracked illuminating the dark waters and he was spotted off the starboard side. The crew quickly threw a rope down to the man who was fighting desperately to stay afloat. The sailors missed the throw repeatedly. He was just out of reach of the line, but then Shamus tried and threw the rope so straight that it hit the flailing man in the face. The sinking man quickly tied the wet rope under his arms and around his chest.
A wave rose up and swallowed the man. He sank into the dark and out of sight. The Robin’s bow then swung wildly and slammed into the man. As the deck crew pulled the rope, a limp body rose out of the water. The body was unceremoniously dragged up the starboard wall and on to the deck. The saved man was groaning and his eyes could not focus. "Crewman Willis," Mandrik called out, "take dis man down and see to 'em."
The remaining sailors frantically tied themselves to a rope which was lashed to a tall mast for safety.
Patrick was ordered to return below deck just as they battened down the hatches. Endless screams and shuffling could be heard from above deck. Patrick tried to focus on his patient but the man passed out on the hammock and was snoring. The surgeon’s mate joined most of the crew below in rotating moments of fear and vomiting in the dark. He mustered his constitution and then took to his bilge pump duties. The night was long and frightening, and the men kept their minds off dying by bailing bucket after bucket of water that had seeped in from the heavy rain.