Chapter 12: A Pirate’s Life
Jeff awoke with a start. He sat up at the table in the infirmary and quickly realized that he had fallen asleep reading the medicine guide. As earlier in the day, he was stiff and sore from being in such an awkward position for so long. He groaned to himself as he stood up and stretched. He could hear the sound of the anchor being lowered and he stiffly walked out on deck. They had arrived at Port Royal once again and the Captain was preparing a landing party. Coxen waved him over, “Mr. Greene, you are welcome to join me, but I do not think you shall find the trip very stimulating. Captain Jamison and I are merely going to recruit some additional crew as quickly as possible and return to the ships.”
Jeff noticed that Jenny was not among the gathered landing party, so there was not going to be a chance for another visit to the cave. “I’ll just stay aboard then, Captain. Thank you.”
“As you wish,” Coxen replied as he turned to the rail and climbed down to the longboat.
After the landing party left, Jeff finally found some sparring partners for sword practice and filled the time honing his rapidly improving skills. At Harrison’s recommendations for his continued training, Jeff was even becoming quite good with his left hand and was comfortable fighting with either hand against assailants using either hand or both hands.
By the time the landing party returned and the new crewmen were assigned to their positions, the sun was low in the sky. For the next few days, the new crewmen were trained in a variety of skills, and Jeff was even called upon to spar with them as Harrison and his master of arms counterpart from Jamison’s crew brought them up to speed on hand to hand combat. When the Captains were satisfied that the crew was adequately prepared to fulfill their duties, they made plans to set sail the next morning for the first raid since Captain Craig’s failed betrayal.
The next several weeks blended together in Jeff’s perception. Sails spanning a few days would lead to a nighttime raid on some small Spanish colony along the coast. The Captain refused to let Jeff join the raiding parties, so he would wait impatiently on the ship for the longboats to return, actually hoping someone would get hurt just enough that he could make himself useful. Usually there were some minor injuries for him to attend to after each raid, but most of the time, he didn’t really have much to do. He did enjoy the occasional liaison with Jenny in the cargo hold, but they really couldn’t get away with that all the time, and she stayed busy most of the time preparing meals for the Captain and crew.
Jenny finally put him to work fishing to try to keep him occupied. Jeff was initially excited by the prospect, because he really enjoyed fishing, but with the primitive line and hooks that he had available, the fish were very slow to bite, so even this became tedious pretty quickly. Periodically, his pulse would quicken when there was a rumble of thunder or a flash of lightning, but the storms were always a good distance off, and none that he saw displayed any signs of the particular lightning and cloud formations he was looking for.
Early one afternoon, Jeff was in the infirmary changing the dressing on a wound that Crabtree had sustained in a raid a few nights previously when yelling erupted on deck. Jeff hastily finished up the dressing and the two men hurried out. Stevens was in the crow’s nest peering through a spyglass shouting down to the Captain, “Spanish colors! Five ships…No, six!”
The Captain yelled to Crabtree, “Signal the other ships! We have six Spanish man o’ war approaching from the Northeast!” Jeff watched the crews on all three ships scurrying around to try to get as much speed as possible to try to outrun the Spanish. Jenny came out from below deck and stood next to him watching the scene unfold. Initially it looked as if they were putting distance between them and the patrol ships, but the pirate ships were heavily loaded from their raids and soon the Spaniards were closing the distance. “Make ready the canons and load the aft guns with bar and chain!” the Captain ordered.
“Bar and chain?” Jeff asked Jenny.
“Cannon balls connected with a chain. We use them to try to damage the masts and rigging to disable the ships,” she explained.
Captain Coxen had Crabtree at his side relaying messages to and from the other two ships. “Aye! Split now!” he yelled across to The Crow, which had pulled alongside and was now sailing in the middle of the three pirate ships. Coxen turned the wheel and the Wandering Wench veered off to the left. At the same time, the Grand Booty turned to the right while The Crow remained on its heading. As the three ships separated, they each drew two of the Spanish ships on their course. The direction of the wind was least favorable to the Wench, and her pursuers were quickly growing near. Jeff watched intently as Captain Coxen actually turned around to watch the approaching ships and steered with his arms behind him.
“Prepare to fire the port aft gun on my order!” he yelled. Just then, a shot was fired from one of the Spanish ships and the cannonball splashed harmlessly into the water several feet from where Jeff and Jenny were standing.
“Perhaps we should find cover,” Jeff suggested.
“Don’t worry, I’ve seen the Captain do this a hundred times. You’ll want to see this,” Jenny assured him.
The Captain slowly turned the wheel to line things up and then shouted out, “Port aft gun, ready?”
“Aye!” came the reply.
“Fire!” the Captain yelled. A moment later a loud blast came from the rear of the ship and Jeff felt the deck shiver below his feet. The shot found its intended target and a moment later the front mast of the closest Spanish ship listed sharply to one side and then slowly collapsed over the left side of the ship with the sails dipping into the sea.
The second Spanish ship had been close behind the first and her Captain was too slow to react to the sudden loss of speed of the ship in front. The two ships collided with a loud crash. Men were yelling on both ships as they struggled to separate themselves. The Wandering Wench pulled away and had made quite a bit of distance before the second ship was able to resume the pursuit. But the Spanish ship was not gaining ground and soon Jeff could see why. The collision had apparently opened up the hull and the Spanish ship was sinking.
Coxen laughed heartily as he turned to face the wheel and set a course toward The Crow and her pursuers. “Amazing,” Jeff commented to himself as much as to Jenny, “Two birds with one stone, eh?”
“Aye,” replied Jenny. “I’ve seen the Captain take down many a ship that way. Usually it is just one at a time. That’s the fourth time I’ve seen him get two.
“Really?” Jeff asked incredulously.
“Aye. Captain Coxen is one of the most feared pirates on the Spanish Main for good reason.” In the distance, the sounds of cannon fire from the other ships could be heard. As Jeff squinted against the sunlight reflecting off of the waves, he could see the flashes and smoke from the Spanish ships in pursuit of The Crow.
The Wandering Wench was gradually closing the distance and it appeared that Captain Jamison was changing course on The Crow to allow Coxen to catch better wind and intercept them faster. “Prepare the starboard guns! Alternate bar and chain and shrapnel!” Coxen yelled out.
“Aye, Captain!” the men yelled from below deck.
The trailing Spanish ship had taken notice of their approach and was now firing at them, but Coxen was staying just out of the range of their guns. Cannonball after cannonball splashed into the water within a few feet of the Wench. “Prepare to fire the shrapnel on my order!”
“Aye,Captain!”
After a volley of Spanish cannonballs once again fell short, Coxen turned the wheel, causing the ship to jog just within range. “Fire!” the Captain yelled. A deafening roar erupted below deck as several cannon were fired at once. A cloud of shrapnel, consisting of nails, broken glass, pottery shards, and assorted other sharp objects showered the Spanish ship. Jeff could hear the screams of the men who had been hit. “Prepare to fire the bar and chai
n on my command!”
“Aye, Captain!”
Coxen maneuvered the ship slightly further out from the Spanish ship and watched. The Spanish were still firing, but only from two ports now, instead of the eight that had been firing. Apparently the shrapnel had done its job and there were fewer hands to man the guns. The two guns on the Spanish ship fired nearly simultaneously and again the shots were too short. Knowing that they would be briefly defenseless as they reloaded, Captain Coxen moved in for the kill. As he moved in close alongside the Spanish ship, a few men on her deck fired small arms in a vain attempt to hold off the Wench. “Fire!” Coxen bellowed. The starboard guns roared and four bar and chain shots sailed across the deck of the Spanish ship. One shot connected on the center mast, which exploded in splinters before collapsing. As the rigging dragged in the water, the ship slowed to a crawl and the Wench sailed quickly past.
Coxen barely took notice of the victory as he set his sights on the second ship in pursuit of The Crow. As he closed the distance behind the Spanish ship, a bar and chain shot fired from The Crow sailed past its intended target and barely missed the front mast of the Wench before bouncing across the deck and over the side rail. Coxen turned the ship to port to get out of the line of friendly fire. “Make ready the forward guns with bar and chain and prepare to fire on my order!”
“Aye, Captain!” Jeff watched nervously as the Wench drew close to the Spanish ship. “Aren’t we a little close?” Jeff asked.
“Aye, but the Captain has positioned us in the dead zone where their guns cannot hit us. We’re too far forward for the aft guns and too far back for their port guns. They are too intent on The Crow to really engage us,” Jenny explained.
Suddenly, Coxen turned the wheel and the ship turned straight toward the middle of the Spanish ship. “Fire!” Coxen yelled. The forward cannons erupted and a moment later, the center mast and rigging splashed into the water as Coxen turned the Wench away from the Spanish guns.
Captains Coxen and Jamison now turned their attention to assisting the Grand Booty. As they closed the distance, it was apparent that the inexperienced crew was in trouble. The Spanish ships were flanking her and appeared to be delivering a punishing attack from both sides. Captain Coxen yelled out, “Mr. Crabtree, signal Captain Jamison and tell him that we will take the ship on the starboard side and ask him to take the port.”
“Aye, Captain!”
“Ready the forward guns with bar and chain and level the angle!”
“Aye, Captain!”
Jeff turned to Jenny, “Level the angle?” “He wants the guns aimed straight ahead rather than on an incline. He means to target her rudder,” Jenny explained. The Wandering Wench had found the wind and was quickly closing on her target.
Meanwhile, The Crow was on an intercept course for the port side Spanish ship and Jeff could hear Jamison barking orders to prepare for his attack. As Jamison lined up with the Spanish ship, The Crow opened fire, sending a barrage of cannon balls at her hull. The Spanish returned fire, but now was fighting a battle on both sides as the crew of the damaged Booty was firing at them as well.
Captain Coxen had now moved into position and called out, “Prepare to fire on my order!”
“Aye, Captain!” Jeff watched intently as the Captain seemed to be reading the waves and timing the rise and fall of the ship’s bow for the perfect moment.
“Fire!” Coxen yelled, and a moment later the report of the forward guns rang in Jeff’s ears. As before, the Captain’s timing was perfect and the shot found its mark – a direct hit on the shaft of the ship’s rudder. The wood splintered, but held strong.
Coxen turned the ship hard to port in anticipation of return fire from the Spanish ship and the course change came just in the nick of time. Jeff saw the flash from the aft guns on the Spanish ship as they roared to life and two cannon balls whizzed by just a few feet off the rail. The Spanish ship had now abandoned their attack on the Booty and had focused all of their attention on their pursuers. “Prepare to fire forward guns the same!”
“Aye, Captain!”
Coxen turned the Wench back on course behind the Spanish ship for a moment, but crossed behind her as the sound of the Spanish Captain’s voice relayed the impending firing of her guns. The shots from the Spanish guns again went wide, but this time on the other side of the Wench. “Prepare to fire on my order!”
“Aye, Captain!” Coxen moved in behind the Spanish ship and once again waited for the timing of the waves.
“Fire!” The forward guns boomed and this time the rudder shaft was shattered. The Spanish ship quickly veered off course and was drifting away from the fight even as Captain Coxen set his sights on the remaining ship that was now being hammered relentlessly by both The Crow and the Grand Booty.
“Make ready the forward guns with bar and chain and set angle to maximum height,” Coxen called out. “Aye, Captain!” Coxen steered the Wench in behind the Spanish ship. The Spanish were too busy with the ships on either side of her to even notice the pursuit from behind. As the Wench closed the distance, Coxen gave the order to prepare to fire. As he set his course to a slight angle to the stern of the Spanish ship, he gave the order to fire. The deck shook as the forward guns unloaded. Both shots hit their mark, with one splintering the center of the aft mast and the other tearing through sails and rigging further forward. The Spanish ship quickly lost speed and the three pirate ships sailed past her.
Once they were out of range of the Spanish guns, the ships sailed alongside each other to take stock of the situation. The Wench of course was unscathed, but both The Crow and the Booty were not so lucky. The Crow had sustained some damage to her rigging and had a few mildly wounded crewmen. One of the new crewmen on the Booty had been killed and two others had been severely hurt, while the rest of her crew had all sustained some injuries. The ship had serious damage to her hull and was slowly taking on water. Captains Jamison and Coxen decided the best course of action would be to sail for a cove a few hours away where they’d be hidden from any Spanish patrols and hope to reach it in time to save the Booty, or at least offload her cargo before the ship sank.
Jeff volunteered to go over to the Grand Booty to provide care for their wounded, and quickly gathered his medical supplies when the Captain agreed. The ships stopped just long enough for Jeff, the two Stevens, and two additional crewmen from The Crow to make their way to the damaged ship in the longboats. As he climbed over the rail of the Booty with his medicine chest, he was shocked at how much blood there was splattered all over the deck. The dead crewman appeared to have been killed instantly by cannon shot to the chest, but he was not the sole source of the gore. All of the crew on the Booty appeared to be bleeding, just some more than others.
The two Stevens and the crewmen from The Crow set about taking over the duties of the battered men of the Booty while Jeff started attending to the wounded. The two men with severe wounds had been pulled to the back of the main deck and were propped against the rail next to each other in an ever-increasing pool of blood. Both were barely conscious, fortunately for them, Jeff thought, because the pain from the injuries he was looking at would have been intense. The smaller of the two men was bleeding heavily from a wound in his abdomen. Jeff knew his chances of survival with the treatments available were bleak, so he turned his attention to the other man. He was missing the outer half of his left hand and was covered with large wooden splinters and debris poking out from all over his body. All of his wounds were bleeding, but none heavily, and Jeff believed he had a chance, although preventing infection was going to be a challenge.
Jeff opened the medicine chest and began pulling shrapnel from the man. Each time he removed a piece of wood, Jeff would pour some lime juice in the wound to try to disinfect it. Even in semi-consciousness, the pain of the treatment would prompt a grimace and moan from the patient. Once all the shrapnel was removed and the wounds had been dis
infected as best they could be, Jeff bandaged up the man’s hand and the worst of his other wounds. Jeff hoped that it would be enough to keep the man alive for the time being and turned his attention to the rest of the injured crewmen.
Jeff worked as quickly as he could to treat the worst of the injuries on the remaining crewmen. Each man seemed a little more hesitant than the last as they watched the reactions of their mates to Jeff’s care. But all of them knew that death by infection was a horrible way to die and so they took their chances with Jeff’s lime juice treatment. As he worked, he noticed that some of the men had formed a bucket brigade to bail water from below deck. At first, he was too busy to tell if they were making any headway on the leak, but as time wore on, it definitely seemed like the ship was riding lower in the water. They were definitely sinking, it was just a question of whether they could reach the cove soon enough to save the ship. Jeff had only treated about half of the injured men when he looked up and saw land ahead. They were going to make it.
When they finally arrived at the cove, Captain Coxen himself came over to the ship to assess the situation and decide what to do with the Grand Booty. Jeff was still busy caring for the wounded when the Captain returned from below deck and approached him.
“How is the crew, Mr. Greene?”
“Most of them will live. The one with the gut wound over there, is probably dead by now. I haven’t had time to check. The one beside him, may or may not make it.”
The Captain sighed, “You have done good work here, Mr. Greene. The ship is salvageable, but we shall have to beach her to make repairs. I am going to run her aground on a sandbar shortly. Finish up what you are doing and make preparations for yourself and the injured to hold fast as we shall be coming to an abrupt stop.”
“Will do, Captain,” Jeff nodded.
The Captain made his way to the navigation deck and took his place at the wheel. Jeff finished bandaging his last patient and quickly packed up the medicine chest and secured it with a length of rope. Jeff then made his way over to the two critically wounded crewmen to check on their conditions and to secure them for the grounding of the ship. As he suspected, the one with the abdominal wound no longer had a pulse, but the other man seemed to be holding his own. Jeff found a length of rope and secured him to the rail so that he would not suffer further injuries in the grounding. Captain Coxen called down to the crew, “Prepare to run aground, men!”
“Aye, Captain!” the chorus of men shouted back as they took places holding on to various structures on the ship. Jeff kneeled down at the rail next to his patients and got a good grip. A few moments later, the ship groaned as it came to a sudden stop on the sandbar.
The next few hours were spent transferring the injured men from the Booty to the other two ships for further treatment by Jeff and his counterpart on The Crow and sending planks, boxes of nails, and various tools to begin repairs on the Booty. By the time the men and supplies were all moved, the sun was beginning to set. Jeff had just finished checking up on the most seriously injured and was relieved to find that everyone seemed to be doing well. Even the man Jeff had removed all the shrapnel from was fully conscious again and upon noticing the condition of his hand had even suggested that the others men should call him “Lefty”.
Jenny stuck her head in the door of the infirmary, “Captain told me to come and find you. He wants you to join him in his cabin for dinner when you are done here.”
“I’ll wash up and head that way,” Jeff affirmed as he stepped toward the door.
“Perhaps after dinner you can help me with moving some things in the cargo hold?” she asked suggestively. Jeff smiled.
“I’d be happy to help you move things!”
“Very well then, Mr. Greene. Until later…” she said as she turned to leave.
Jeff cleaned the blood from his hands before changing his shirt and making his way to the Captain’s quarters. Before he could knock, the Captain opened the door, “Come in, Mr. Greene. Thank you for joining me.”
“My pleasure, Captain,” Jeff acknowledged.
“Do have a seat at the table and I shall pour you some rum,” Coxen said motioning toward the table. “I wish to commend you on the fine job you have done in tending to the injured men.”
“Thank you, Captain. Some of them aren’t out of the woods yet, but so far things are looking pretty good.”
“Splendid!” the Captain smiled.
The two men made small talk and shortly Jenny arrived with the evening meal. Both men ate hungrily and then relaxed with a pipe afterwards. As the remnants of tobacco burned up in their pipes, the Captain said, “Well Mr. Greene, I know Robinson is waiting for your assistance in organizing the cargo hold, so you should take your leave of me now.”
“You know about that, huh?”
“Of course, I gave Robinson the assignment and suggested that he enlist your help. I trust that you do not object.”
“No, not at all,” Jeff grinned. As Jeff opened the door to leave, Coxen added, “I will see to it that your work is not disturbed.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll make sure to do a good job!”
The Captain smiled, “I know that you will. Good night, Mr. Greene.”
“Good night, Captain.”
Jeff made his way to the cargo hold where Jenny had moved crates around to produce a hidden spot in the back. Jeff was pleased to find the sacks were covered with some fine bed linens that had been part of the haul from a recent raid. “Shall we get to work?” Jeff asked as he closed the door to the hold behind him.
“Yes,” Jenny smiled. It’s a big job. This might take all night!”
In the afterglow of the first round on the makeshift bed, Jeff turned to Jenny and said, “You know, if I do get the opportunity to go back to my time, you could come with me.”
Jenny looked at him and sighed, “I won’t say that I’m not flattered and even tempted, but no. Jeff, I do cherish our moments together, but it would not be right for me to join you in your time. What would I do in the 21st century? Things in your time would be so strange to me. This is my time and it is where I belong.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jeff agreed, “It would be quite a challenge to get you assimilated in my time. Just trying to get you a legal identity would be impossible!”
Jenny leaned over and kissed him. “Some things are not meant to be. But for as long as fate allows us to be together, let us enjoy it,” she said softly.
“Yes, by all means. I for one am ready to enjoy it again! How about you?” Jeff asked, to which Jenny smiled and pulled him to her.
After a few more hours together in the cargo hold, Jeff and Jenny snuck out to their bunks to get some sleep. The next morning, he helped load a few remaining supplies on the longboats and watched as they rowed over to the sandbar to begin repairs on the Grand Booty. The rest of Jeff’s morning was spent attending to the wounds of his patients. He was happy to see that everyone was still doing reasonably well and that none had any signs of serious infection.
As he headed out on deck to get some air before lunch, he could hear sounds of hammering and sawing coming from the sandbar. The Booty had suffered quite a bit of damage and Jeff figured it would be at least a few days before she was seaworthy again. As Jeff periodically checked up on his patients, day gradually turned to night once again, and on this night, some of the men from Jamison’s crew came over to the Wench to share some dinner, rum, and tall tales. The party went on late into the night and Jeff dragged himself off to his bunk after several of the men simply passed out on the deck.
After a few days, Captains Coxen and Jamison agreed that the Grand Booty was in good enough shape to make sail, but she would need more extensive repairs before she was ready for another fight, so further raiding would be postponed. Despite the fact that there was a writ out for Coxen’s arrest there, they decided that the only real option was t
o head for Port Royal, Jamaica to get the needed repairs and to sell off some of the spoils of their raids. But first was the matter of getting the Grand Booty off of the sandbar.
Re-floating the Booty proved to be no easy task. Although the beaching had been done at a relatively low stage of the tide and most of the cargo had been offloaded, even at high tide, the heavy wooden ship rested firmly on the sand. Several ropes were tied off to the ship with the other ends tied to longboats crewed by the strongest-armed men available. Meanwhile, several other crewmen set about digging away the sand from under the hull. The men in the longboats rowed as hard as they could as the men on the sand bar dug at the sand. At first it looked to Jeff like the efforts would all be in vain, but to his surprise the ship finally started creeping back off the sandbar and soon was being towed slowly out to the deep water of the cove. After the intense efforts of their men, the Captains opted to delay their departure for Jamaica until the next morning in order to give the crews time to rest.
Just after dawn the next morning, the three ships set sail for Jamaica. As most of Jeff’s patients were now healing quite well on their own, there was once again little for him to do. Fortunately the sail to Port Royal would only take a few days and from what Jenny and the others had told him, unlike the Port Royal on Roatan, the one in Jamaica was a very large town for the 17th century and there would be much to do and see when they arrived.