Chapter 11
The Sea Dancer
Atlantic Ocean
Monday
When Captain McGregor finally opened his eyes, the sunlight came as shock, the bright morning sun shining down on them from a clear blue sky.
Captain McGregor blinked, raising his hands to shield his face, and turned on his side away from the sun, so that he could look around.
He blinked several times, put his hands back on the deck and pushed himself up into a sitting position.
All around him, men were slowly waking up and coming to. Some men were already bending over the gunwales of the ship, retching repeatedly.
Captain McGregor tried to stand up, and immediately a wave of nausea swept over him.
He staggered quickly to the stern and vomited into the sea below: once, twice...three times, until there was nothing more to come up, and his stomach hurt.
McGregor turned around and staggered over to the tiller, bending down to help up the young sailor on the deck beside it. No sooner was he up, than he too staggered to the stern of the boat, followed rather swiftly by Richard Tyler.
McGregor walked down onto the main deck, and walked amongst his crew, helping some to their feet and ushering them promptly to the gunwales.
By now, the Captain was beginning to feel slightly more clearheaded, and he was beginning to notice detail.
The first unmistakable piece of detail to assail his brain had been the sunlight: it was daytime - and by the position of the sun it was probably around nine of the clock in the morning. Which meant that he and his crew had just slept through the night.
Secondly, the storm was gone. Vanished. Not a trace of cloud hung in the sky, the air was warm, the timber underneath his feet was dry, and there was a pleasant breeze.
And thirdly, the ship was partly underway, the front sail was half-filled, propelling it through the water slowly north-west.
Some of the crew were gathering around him now, rubbing their heads, cleaning the vomit out of their beards, and looking like the sorriest bunch of men he had ever clapped his eyes on.
"Captain McGregor," one of the gunners opened his mouth to ask the most obvious yet important question. "What happened, Cap'n?"
"Aye, Cap'n," the other men joined in. "What happened?"
Richard Tyler and James Silver had now both joined the group, standing beside him, but their eyes as much on him as any other mans.
The Captain looked up and saw a seagull flying overhead, squawking loudly: they were close to land.
"Can ye not recall, lad? Last night we prayed to God, and gave thanks, and now He has delivered us safely to calm oceans, unharmed and alive! Thanks be to God!"
Even as he spoke the words, Captain McGregor was not sure how much he believed them. In truth, the reality of what had transpired that morning evaded him. It was beyond his understanding. Yet, he could not admit that to his men. They had elected him to lead them, and lead them he would. To admit no understanding of what had occurred may unsettle some amongst them and serve no ultimate purpose.
"Mr Silver. Please take Mr Tyler and one of the crew below, and check and witness that our booty is intact! And hurry ye back, so that ye can give the others assurance and some cheer!"
Mr Silver tapped the closest of the pirates on the shoulder, and the three of them disappeared below decks, returning a few minutes later wearing the first smiles of the day.
" 'Tis all present and correct, Cap'n!" the quartermaster shouted, and a loud cheer went up from the men on the deck.
"Mr Silver, get the men to fall in on deck. All of them, so that the ship's doctor, Mr Bones, can inspect them all, and see who is fit for duty, and who is not. Mr Baker? Yes, you man. Take the helm. Mr Tanner, ye are still the Sailing Master, are ye not? What are ye waiting for? Set a course for home!"
Another cheer went up from the men. They all understood what that meant.
Soon they would distribute the booty, and by nightfall each man amongst them would be rich.
As Mr Tanner went below to get his charts and then returned on deck to check their position and work out the course, the seaman on deck set to trimming the sails, swabbing the decks and getting everything shipshape. The Captain was a stickler for cleanliness and everything being in its place.
"Mr Tyler, Mr Silver, please follow me below decks to my cabin."
Captain McGregor stood at the large glass window at the back of his stern cabin, looking out at the wake of the Sea Dancer as it began to pick up speed.
As the other two men entered his cabin, he bade them sit at the table, and they obeyed. They sat silently, waiting for the Captain to speak.
The Captain said nothing, his back now turned to them, lost deep in thought.
At last, he turned around.
"Mr Silver, please give me the benefit of your wisdom and experience. In your own words, what would ye say happened last night?"
"That I cannot say, Cap'n Rob. But I am of the mind that whatever happened was not of man's making."
"Aye, Cap'n. Can you recall the Albatross we saw? Or did I dream it all on my own?" Richard Tyler agreed.
"If it were a dream, or even a vision conjured up by Lucifer himself, then we all shared it, Mr Tyler. I say it was real, but as to what it was, that I also cannot say."
Neither man said anything for a few moments.
"Tyler, please fetch Mr Tanner below. I would like to hear his report on where he believes us to be. And more importantly, how far we are from home!"
Silver disappeared, but quickly returned with the Sailing Master in tow behind him.
"So, Mr Tanner. Where the devil are we, at your best estimate?"
"With the present wind, probably two day's from home. Almost exactly where we were when the storm caught us, give or take twenty leagues."
"Good. At least we haven't lost too much time."
Just then there was a knock on the cabin door.
"Who is it?" Captain McGregor called.
"Mr Bones, Cap'n. With the report you wanted on the condition of the men."
"Enter."
The door opened and a small, plump bald man entered the cabin carrying a little black bag, a monocle in his left eye, and a rather round, protruding belly.
"And what is the situation, Mr Bones?"
"We now have a hundred and twenty officers and men aboard, Cap'n McGregor. We picked up a few from the Albatross. You decreased their number by two... ," the doctor coughed. "...And Smith, the apprentice Boatswain was swept overboard. Two men and a cabin boy died last night. I don't know why, but they had blood pouring out their ears and..."
"Spare me the details Mr Bones. You are the quack, not I. If they are dead I believe you. Frankly, I am surprised there are not more. I was amazed that anybody would survive the stress that the events of last night enacted upon us all! And the rest? Are they fit and well?"
"No, one had a broken leg, and another a broken arm. I will set them this afternoon, if you will allow a measure of grog to be issued to these men so that I can operate?"
"Certainly. Take what you need, but not a drop more. And make sure you give it to the patients and not yourself, Mr Bones! Do y'hear?"
Everyone knew that Dr Bones hated the sight of blood, and that whenever he had to treat someone where blood was involved, he would often find courage to operate in the bottom of a glass of grog: a practice which was not welcomed by the other pirates, who were the main source of all his patients.
Mr Bones coughed, as if trying to get the Captain's attention.
"Is there something else, Mr Bones?" Captain Rob asked.
"Two of the men are sick."
"How sick, Mr Bones? The men are often sick."
"Sick. Fever, headache, chills... I've separated them from the men. They can't help us anymore just now. I will be keeping an eye on them."
"You do that, Mr Bones. And keep me informed as to their condition."
Mr Bones turned and walked back out of the cabin, the others look
ing after him. As soon as the door closed, Silver and McGregor burst into laughter.
"I wager a piece of eight that he will be drunk within the hour!" Mr Silver said.
"Done. I've warned him about that before. And it will not bode well for him if he is!", the Captain accepted the bet.
In actual fact, Mr McGregor felt sorry for the funny little man. He had once been the ship's doctor aboard a merchant ship that McGregor and his men had taken captive off the coast of Africa en route to the Caribbean. In spite of the fact that he disliked the sight of blood, he was a good doctor. Given the choice of being set adrift near the African coast or joining his happy band of buccaneers, Mr Bones had chosen the latter, and had since quite taken to the pirate life. He now had the respect and admiration of the men, even though they were quick to make fun. Mr Bones was not his real name, but rather it was one given to him by the ship's men: it was much easier to say than Percival Snythe.
"On a more serious matter, Cap'n, we do have another problem," Mr Silver said.
"Which is?"
"Water and provisions. As you will recall, we were running low before the attack on Puerto Bello de la Cruz. You instructed Captain Wainright to gather what he could from the merchant men and other ships in the harbour, but we lost the Thistle before we were given the chance to bring our share across to the Sea Dancer. I didn't want to alarm the men, but we've only enough left for another two meals. We were dependent upon Wainright to..."
"Which means, Mr Silver, that we won't head straight home yet. We will have to stop somewhere en route to borrow some supplies. Study your maps Mr Tanner, and let me know where you suggest?"
"The men will be disappointed..."
"I will not have my men starve. We cannot eat gold."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n."
"Don't worry, Mr Silver. Your gold is not going anywhere. But we'll not distribute it until we have food in our bellies, and grog in our goblets..."
Before the Captain could finish his sentence, a tremendous deep roar filled the cabin, shaking the windows, and rattling the plates and cutlery in the Captain's ornate mahogany dresser.
Richard Tyler and James Silver jumped to their feet, and rushed to the window, following the Captain who was already staring out after the source of the sound.
"Ye Gods!" Richard Tyler exclaimed loudly, as a big, glistening metal bird flew past overhead and disappeared quickly into the distance. "Another Albatross!"
Taking the rungs two at a time, Captain McGregor rushed up the ladders to the quarterdeck, just in time to see another metal bird swoop overhead, roaring so loudly that his ears rang for several seconds afterwards.
McGregor followed the trail of the bird, watching it taking only seconds to fly from their ship to the edge of the horizon: one moment it was there, and the next it was gone, leaving no sign that it had been there.
All his life Captain Rob McGregor had heard sailors telling tales about the strange sights that they had seen out at sea: mermaids, trolls, great serpents and fantastic sea monsters large enough to swallow ships. But never had he heard any tales told about monsters in the air.
From now on, Rob McGregor would have a story to tell that would beat any other. As would any of the other hundred and twenty men on the Sea Dancer who had just seen and heard the same monster.
Captain Rob turned around, looked Mr Silver in the face and laughed.
" 'Tis your turn, Mr Silver. You tell the men whatever you want. I'll leave this explanation to you!"
And with that, the Captain left the quarterdeck, leaving Mr Silver surrounded by pirates who all had the same, single question: "What in Heaven and on earth, was that?"