Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1) (9 page)

“Morgan!” snorted Coxen, “That pompous
arse! Do you know he had the nerve to issue a writ for my arrest
for doing the very things he used to do himself?” The Captain
paused as he noticed Mr. Thomas glaring at him. “My apologies, Mr.
Thomas. I know you are still loyal to Captain Morgan and I am
speaking out of turn. Please continue.”

“Yes, well, as I was saying, I was
sailing with Captain Morgan. We had been raiding Spanish outposts
here in the Bay of Honduras. One night, the warm summer breeze
suddenly blew cold and the odd-colored lightning buzzed overhead.
The clouds formed what looked like a cave around us and the walls
were closing in. I could feel the electricity causing the hairs on
my neck to stand up and as the clouds squeezed closer, everything
went black. I passed in and out of consciousness for what seemed
like several minutes and when I would open my eyes, I looked to the
shoreline and I did not recognize it. There were many lights I had
never seen before, including some red, blinking ones that looked
like dragon’s eyes that appeared to be attached to tall, thin
structures that went high into the sky. When I fully regained my
wits, the clouds were starting to break up, but then suddenly
closed in again. When we finally came through the storm, the
shoreline was dark once again and the strange lights were
gone.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas,” Jeff said,
“It sounds like you may have gone through time like I did, just the
other direction and just for a short time.”

“Aye. Perhaps,” the old man
nodded.

“Thank you all, gentlemen,” the
Captain spoke up. “Do you have any more questions for them, Mr.
Greene?”

“No, I don’t know what else to ask at
this point, Captain. And yes, thank you very much for sharing your
stories, gentlemen,” Jeff responded.

“Very good then. Now, shall we share
some food and drink?” the Captain asked. Everyone nodded in
agreement. “Wench! Bring us a pitcher of rum, a pitcher of ale, and
a pot of whatever that is that I smell cooking in the
kitchen!”

“Aye,” the tired-looking woman
acknowledged as she headed off to the kitchen.

Jeff watched her depart and noticed an
angry-looking man bump into her as she made her way through the
crowd. He seemed to have fixed his stare on Captain Coxen and was
slowly approaching the table. Something about the man put Jeff on
edge and he wanted to be prepared in case there was trouble.
“Please excuse me,” Jeff said as he stood up from the table, and
casually walked toward the man. As Jeff passed by him, he could see
the man’s hand on the handle of a large knife contained in a sheath
that hung from his belt. Jeff quickly turned and followed close
behind him. The man walked up behind the Captain and drew his
knife.

“Captain!” Crabtree yelled as he
spotted the man, but he and the rest of the crew were out of
position to lend any assistance. But Jeff was ready. Before the man
could attack, Jeff grabbed his arm and brought it swiftly down onto
his knee, knocking the knife from the man’s hand. Jeff immediately
followed with a ridge-hand chop to the man’s throat. He staggered
backwards and crashed to the floor on his back as Coxen and the
crew jumped to their feet.

“Mr. Allison! What’s the meaning of
this?” the Captain boomed.

“Fuuuck… Ye… Coxxxen!” the man gasped
through his bruised throat.

“Mr. Crabtree, please remove this
vermin!”

“Aye, Captain! Shall I kill
‘im?”

“No, Mr. Crabtree, though it goes
against my better judgment, simply insure that he will not be able
to cause any further trouble between now and when we
sail.”

“Aye, Captain!” Crabtree acknowledged
as he bent down and yanked Allison to his feet. “Stevens and other
Stevens, come with me to take this trash out.”

“Aye!” the two said in unison, before
joining Crabtree in shoving Allison through the crowd and out the
door.

Coxen turned toward Jeff. “Thank you,
Mr. Greene. That was very well done!”

“Friend of yours I take it,” Jeff
said, nodding his head toward the door.

The Captain laughed. “A former member
of my crew. He was caught taking additional rations of rum and so I
dismissed him. He may hold a bit of a grudge though since we left
him naked in the street with the word ‘thief’ painted on his
back.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t order
Crabtree to kill him. He did just try to kill you,” Jeff
remarked.

“Aye. When I was a younger man, I
would have killed him myself on the spot. For that matter I would
have had him hanged for his original indiscretion. But the years
have quenched my bloodlust and now I only kill when I must. In any
event, I am glad that you were watching my back when all I had
asked of you was to watch your own.”

“Anytime,” Jeff nodded, but aren’t you
worried about Allison trying again to kill you?”

“Ah, Mr. Greene, with a past like
mine, there are many who I’m sure would gladly take my life if
given the chance. Worrying about Mr. Allison would be like worrying
about one drop of rum in a barrel!”

“I guess I see your point,” Jeff
agreed.

The serving wench was approaching with
pitchers. “Back to the business at hand,” the Captain shouted.
“Drink up, men! But save some rum for Crabtree and the Stevens.
They’ll be thirsty when they return!”

The serving wench quickly departed and
soon returned with a pot and a stack of dishes and spoons. “Goat
stew,” she reported as she set the items in the center of the
table.

As she left, Crabtree and the Stevens
re-entered the tavern and returned to the table. “We sorted things
with Mr. Allison, Captain. We’ll see no more o’ him,” Crabtree
reported as the men took their seats.

“Very good, Mr. Crabtree,” the Captain
nodded. Jeff was curious to know what had become of Allison, but
Crabtree and the Stevens did not seem inclined to volunteer any
information and somehow it seemed inappropriate to ask as they were
eager to partake of the food and drink.

When everyone at the table had their
fill, the Captain announced, “Thank you Mr. Turnbuckle, Mr. Gibson,
Mr. Thomas, for joining us. We should be getting back to the ship.”
The three elders arose and thanked the Captain for his hospitality.
Turning to Jeff, the Captain asked, “So, Mr. Greene, have you made
your decision?”

“Yes, Captain. It seems to me that my
best chance of getting back to my own time, slim though it may be,
is to be aboard a ship. If you are still willing to have me, I
would like to remain with you and your crew.

“Aye! Very good, Mr.
Greene. Men, welcome the newest member of the crew. We shall
initiate him properly when we get back to the
Wandering Wench
!”

Jeff was a bit nervous about what the
initiation into a pirate crew might be, but he smiled and bowed to
each of the men as they offered their welcome to the
crew.

“Now then, we should be getting back
to the ship,” the Captain instructed as he headed for the door.
Jeff and the others followed him out of the Tavern and down to the
longboat. The two Stevens took the oars and Crabtree took the
rudder as they pushed off from shore. The Captain turned to Jeff
and said, “Well, Mr. Greene, tomorrow we will sail to Tortuga to
join with two other ships in the Brethren of the Coast before we
set off on our raids. You have come along at a fortuitous time as
you will have a chance to earn a good deal of money and we will
have a more competent ship’s surgeon when needed.”

Graves spoke up, “Begging the
Captain’s pardon, but am I not the ship’s surgeon no
more?”

“No, Mr. Graves. I do thank you for
your service as the surgeon, but your skills shall be needed
elsewhere. Mr. Greene will be taking over as surgeon.” Jeff heard
Crabtree mutter thanks to God at the announcement as he waited for
some sign of anger or resentment from Graves, but there was
none.

“Aye, Captain. Never did like dealing
with all them medicines anyhow,” Graves said
matter-of-factly.

It was late afternoon now and the sun
was beginning to drop quickly in the sky. The sea was calm and the
trip back to the ship went quickly. As they approached the ship,
there was considerable activity onboard. The Captain took note of
it and was quick to climb the cargo net when the boat pulled
alongside. “Captain!” Harrison yelled from the bow, “Ye will want
to take a look at this!”

As Jeff and the others from the
longboat made it onboard, the Captain was already standing on the
bow, looking out to sea with his spyglass. The Captain turned and
yelled up to the crow’s nest, “Mr. Pike, can you see their
colors?”

“Aye, Captain! They be
Spanish!”

“Damn the foul luck!” the Captain
exclaimed. “Mr. Pike, keep watch on them!”

“Aye, Captain!”

Coxen made his way to the center of
the deck. “Men, gather ‘round.” Jeff stepped forward with the rest
of the crew encircling the Captain. “It appears that at least 4
Spanish man o’ war are heading straight for us. It is to our good
fortune that it is late in the day. They won’t make it here before
sundown and they’d be fools to try to make it inside the reef
without the sun. Most likely they’ll anchor a good distance out and
wait to attack at first light. They will likely spread out and
block us in to the island. Our best chance is to try to slip past
them in the dark, and hope to steer clear of the reef. I do not
wish to alert them to our plan, so set about making ready the ship
to set sail on a moment’s notice but keep the sails wrapped
loosely. Also gather any cargo that is of questionable value and
keep it close to the rail so that we can dump it
easily.”

“Aye, Captain!” the crew said in one
voice.

The Captain turned to Jeff as the rest
of the crew quickly dispersed. “I had hoped that you would have
little to do as ship’s surgeon, Mr. Greene, but it may be that
tomorrow will be a busy day for you. I also regret to inform you
that if we are unsuccessful in escaping those ships, you will not
likely live long enough to find your way home.”

“I understand Captain, but I may have
an idea that will help us escape…”

“Go on,” the Captain urged.

“Do you still have the mask and
snorkel that was on my kayak?” Jeff asked urgently.

The Captain wrinkled his brow, “Are
you referring to that piece of glass with the odd waxy rim and
pipe?”

“Yes, that’s it!” Jeff
replied.

“I have it in my desk,” the Captain
said, walking toward his cabin. Jeff followed the Captain into the
cabin and Coxen retrieved the mask and snorkel from his desk
drawer. “What exactly is this device, Mr. Greene?” the Captain
inquired as he handed it to Jeff.

“It’s for seeing in the water. You
place it on your face like this…” he said as he put on the mask,
“…and then you can breathe through the tube when you
swim.”

“Swim?!” said the Captain, “In the
sea?”

“Yes,” nodded Jeff.

“Mr. Greene, you do know there are
monsters in the sea that will devour you, do you not?”

“Yes, Captain, there are sharks and
such, but with some precautions, swimming in the sea is not that
dangerous.”

“If you say so, Mr. Greene, but I
shall not be one to test that.”

“That’s fine, Captain, but with this
mask, I might be able to do something to slow down or disable those
ships so we can escape.”

“What do you have in mind?” the
Captain asked with curiosity.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’d
like to take a swim around the ship to see what the options might
be. Those Spanish ships would be pretty similar in design as
the
Wandering Wench
, would they not?”

“Aye,” the Captain nodded, “They have
more guns and are thicker-hulled, but otherwise they are much the
same.”

“Good,” Jeff replied, “If you’ll
excuse me, I’ll go take a look at the ship in the water and see
what I can come up with.”

“Be off , then,” Coxen said with a
wave of his hand.

Jeff walked across the deck to the
rail and began to climb down the cargo net. “Where ye be goin’,”
Crabtree asked, just before Jeff’s head disappeared below the
rail.

“I’m going to look at the ship in the
water to see if there’s a way to disable the Spanish
ships.”

“I’m afraid that be a waste o’ time
Mr. Greene. There’s no way we’d get a longboat close enough to do
anything before we was blown out o’ the water.”

“I’m not thinking of going in a boat.
I’m thinking about swimming to them.”

“Yer out o’ yer mind!” Crabtree
exclaimed.

“Perhaps, but I think it’s worth a
try,” Jeff replied as he reached the end of the cargo
net.

“Suit yerself,” Crabtree said as he
turned away from the rail.

The sun was getting low as Jeff
entered the water. He swam along the hull, looking for some sort of
vulnerability. He first thought about drilling or punching holes in
the hulls, but quickly realized that it would be next to impossible
to do with hand tools without being discovered. Seeing the keel, he
next thought of somehow attaching something to it to create drag,
but discarded that option as being unreliable and difficult to do
without scuba gear. As he swam around to the stern of the ship, he
placed his hand on the rudder to steady himself as he stared down
the length of the hull, searching for an idea. The rudder shifted
back and forth slightly in the water and suddenly it came to him.
Jeff excitedly swam around to the side of the ship and called up to
the deck, “Mr. Crabtree!”