by Peter Greene
Harrison now approached as Jonathan lowered his sword and backed away.
“Spears,” Harrison said. “I, too, will ignore this entire fiasco, if you are true to your word. And at this point, your word, and its value and quality, is a great foundation with which to begin a new life.”
Harrison extended his hand and assisted the boy to his feet. Together, Harrison and Spears walked back to the Danielle, and as night fell, they quietly and secretly walked up the plank and into Harrison’s cabin, where Spears’s wounds were attended to.
“Timothy Lane,” Jonathan said, dusting himself off and donning his midshipman’s jacket. “We are going to a quaint pub in the center of town to enjoy goat sandwiches, and I suggest you join us.”
Lane looked at them suspiciously, then slowly smiled, knowing they were sincere in the invitation. He thought the evening was getting a bit cool and, as all the excitement had worn off, he was looking for some peace and relaxation. And why not?
“Goat?” Lane said with a wry smile. “Sounds disgusting. I accept.”
The four sailors laughed, then arm in arm headed for the center of Ribeira Grande.
15
The Mouse Takes the Bait
The Danielle had sailed quickly out of the harbor before noon on a strong breeze through calm water. Conversely, the crew moved a bit more slowly than usual. The previous evening spent ashore had most likely involved a bit of liquor, and the skills of the men seemed greatly diminished. The Captain had even commented loudly about the sloppiness of the letting out of sail and expressed his utter horror at the haphazard way the crew attended to their duties. He assigned extra work to all and even ordered Lieutenant Holtz to add as much sail as possible and to be “quick and ruthless about it.” Despite the slow start, the Danielle was soon miles away from the Cape Verde Islands and headed southeast to Rio Muni and the fort that hopefully contained the manifest.
Before breakfast, Spears had his meeting with the Captain. Mr. Harrison accompanied the midshipman for support; however, the private conversation was really no shock to the Captain. He somehow knew of the duel and knew of its outcome, though Spears and Harrison could not figure out how he had gained this knowledge. Walker agreed that the best course of action was for Spears to request transfer. The Captain agreed to assist him in receiving an assignment on another ship. There was a brief discussion about absolute resignation, but the Captain would not hear of it.
“That is a discussion between you and your father,” he said, “and I will speak to him directly when we return to England. Until then, you are a midshipman under my command and you will act accordingly, as will those around you.”
As Spears exited the Captain’s cabin, it seemed to him there were many eyes trained upon him. Some seemed to sneer, some faces appeared to laugh at him, and he even thought a few heads shook in disgust. It was clear that the word of the duel and his defeat had spread throughout the crew. A cold chill now ran down Spears’s spine as he realized that once the Danielle returned to London, the entire Navy, maybe even the whole city, would hear the awful tale. His mood became dark and he retreated to his cabin, asking Lane to please leave him alone in his misery.
The next day, Jonathan and Sean were at the bow looking ahead as the Danielle sailed southeast. In the afternoon sun, the sails above their heads seemed to glow almost a golden–amber color, and the top gallants seemed to scrape the silver clouds as the ship flew across the deep waves. Jonathan had guessed the Dani had obtained almost nine knots and was surprised to hear from Lane that they had reached almost eleven, certainly quite a feat for a ship as large as theirs. The guns were glistening as they had just been polished, the deck secured and freshly holystoned and washed, and even the hands and marines seemed to be cleaner than usual. Jonathan could not help but smile as everything seemed right. Even Sean’s reading seemed to be greatly improved as he sat nearby, going verse by verse in his book.
“ . . . so Arthur pulled the sword as hard as he could . . . ”
Sean stopped and closed the book. He looked to Jonathan and smiled.
“It seems, Mr. Moore,” said Sean, “that everything is working out for us, just as it did for the young King Arthur in these stories Captain Gorman has given me.”
“Yes, Sean,” smiled Jonathan, still looking out over the waves, feeling the warm sun on his face and the cool breeze at his back. “It seems that with Spears at bay and Lane realizing what a spa-len-did group of friends we can all be, this trip is almost enjoyable!”
“Aye,” said Sean. “What could possibly ruin it?”
At that moment, Steward approached them from the stern, carrying two cups of steaming hot cocoa. He smiled at the boys and handed them each a cup.
“Compliments o’ the Captain, lads,” he said.
“Bless you, Steward!” they said and began sipping.
“Aye, but thar’s a catch,” said Steward, now frowning. “‘Seems there is planning afoot, a plan to prove the pirate Kozak right or wrong. And as it is a plan made by Captain Gorman, it involves sneaking, skulking, and probably a good chance of danger.”
“What else could one expect?” said Sean. “It is a Gorman plan.”
“So what is the catch, Steward?” asked Jonathan.
Steward smiled. “The plan involves you! Back to the Captain’s table with the both of ya, on the double!”
With that the boys quickly stood and marched back to the stern to join the officers in the Captain’s cabin.
Jonathan and Sean entered the room, and as their eyes adjusted to the dark, they could hear laughing and the clinking of plates and cups. As usual there was food present, and the main dish, seemingly piled as high as was safely possible, was a plate of fried and toasted anchovies, complete with lightly browned cheese and some type of dipping sauce in an adjoining saucer. Captain Walker and Gorman were sitting at the table, close to the fish, and were happily selecting one at a time, dipping their choice in the sauce and then devouring the fish in what seemed to be a single bite. Koonts was there, sipping coffee and enjoying a small cake of some sort. Holtz and Harrison also sat at the table and mostly looked at the others as they ate. To the boys, the Captain’s and Gorman’s fascination with anchovies was a mystery, a conundrum, and also at times, quite disgusting to watch. No matter how many napkins and “pardon me’s” accompanied their feasting, many others in attendance often had to turn their heads.
Jonathan and Sean stood at attention, waiting to be addressed, asked to sit, or even to be dismissed. And after a moment or two, Steward appeared with a plate of small ham sandwiches and a tub of fresh mustard. This sent Holtz and Harrison into action as they each took a portion for themselves.
“Ah!” said Walker. “Moore! Flagon! About time! Please be seated and we can begin. I heard you have tried goat and found it agreeable, so I would assume an anchovy would be acceptable?”
After a pause and a look into each other’s eyes, the boys squirmed. Both remembered their first experience with the little creatures and it was not pleasant.
“Thank you, no, sir,” Jonathan replied respectfully. “Sean and I just finished a buttered egg sandwich with pepper from Claise. Most enjoyable.”
“Oh?” said Walker, as if he could not comprehend any situation where one would refuse one of the delectable tiny fish. “Maybe next time, yes?”
The boys sat down as the Captain selected another fish.
“Gorman,” he continued, “what have you ascertained?”
Gorman stopped eating, blotted his lower lip with a napkin and took a quick sip of coffee before beginning.
“Thank you, Captain. Yes, I have spoken with Kozak over the past few days. He is a more devious character than I had expected. Some of what he says seems truthful, some does not. But I do know this: the only way we can proceed is to take a look at the manifest and determine if Kozak is telling the truth.”
“Yes,” said Holtz, with no intention of adding any additional content.
“The manifest is most likely
where Kozak has stated, in Fort de la Selva,” said Gorman. “I have seen the fort myself—not a large one at all, with maybe a dozen or so guards. It lies at the entrance to the river.”
“We may be seen by any number of small ships; some may even be Spanish,” said Koonts, warily.
“True, Mr. Koonts,” said Gorman. “However, I do believe we can sail in the dead of night, Captain. There will be a moonless night on the eleventh. If we drop in a jolly boat while in the darkness off the coast, Mr. Watt can stay a dozen or so miles north and avoid detection. The landing party can row eastward to the fort.”
Captain Walker shook his head and leaned back in his chair. His eyes wandered the room and finally rested upon the main lantern hanging above the table in the beams.
“It is risky,” he said taking a breath and letting it out slowly. “And once we arrive there undetected, if at all possible, we still must sneak into the fort and obtain the manifest.”
“I have a plan for that,” Gorman continued. “Some sneaking and tight spaces at the end through a few windows and gutters, but not impossible—if we remain unnoticed.”
Walker seemed to think hard, his face turning from frown to grimace and he wrestled with the plan and its chance of success. Eventually his eyes fell to the boys.
“Moore? Flagon?” the Captain said. “Captain Gorman once again needs assistance from a pair of smaller crewmembers to squeeze and skulk and commit a little burglary on foreign soil. If caught,” Walker said, pausing for effect, “you will surely be executed. The choice is yours.”
Jonathan and Sean again looked into each other’s faces and soon two smiles appeared. They had been through so much together, and since the “taming of Wayne Spears,” as they called their last adventure, life was getting a little dull aboard the Danielle.
Do you have an appetite for some excitement? Jonathan’s expression seemed to say to Sean.
It’s what I live for! Sean’s face seemed to reply.
“This is strictly voluntary,” said Walker. “If you do not agree to it, no one will think any less of you.”
“We would think less of ourselves, Captain,” said Jonathan. “Please inform us of the details!”
As the day wore on, Spears was summoned by Steward to the galley by the Captain’s cabin and was given a platter with leftover fish and a piece of hardtack, the stale bread that seemed to appear at almost all of the prisoner’s meals. Coffee was also readied, and the food was carefully carried by the young midshipman to the brig.
Wayne Spears had mixed emotions about facing the pirate once again. He was both ashamed at his failure and also angry with Kozak, as it was appearing to the midshipman that possibly he had been ill-advised by the man. It was Kozak that mentioned the murder; it was Kozak that seemed to push him towards the desperate duel. With these thoughts, Spears finally decided that he would simply drop off the food and ignore Kozak’s comments and questions.
He quickly opened the hatch from the main deck, descended two levels to the bottommost hold and then into the dark and lonely brig.
“Ah! Wayne! A feast you bring me to celebrate your success?” said Kozak. Spears just slid the plate under the barred door and turned to walk away, not even looking Kozak in the eye. The pirate realized in an instant that Spears had somehow lost the fencing match, and that somehow, Moore had again come out on top.
Maybe Spears is in very deep trouble, maybe he has been suspected of the attempted murder, thought Kozak. And maybe he needs a way out. The game is not finished yet!
"So things did not go as well as they were planned, Wayne? It is not your fault. It is no one’s fault but my own.”
This comment caught Spears by surprise. Kozak was not blaming him, not chastising him. He was accepting the blame himself.
“Yes, I have been thinking of the bad advice I gave you, and frankly, my dear boy, it was not sound counsel. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there is a better way to prove oneself.”
“I need to prove nothing to you or anyone else,” growled Spears. “Just leave me alone. I will figure this out on my own.”
“Of course you will,” Kozak said. “I am just happy that you seem to be all in one piece. And I hope Mr. Moore is likewise well?”
Spears turned to look at the pirate with a scowl on his face. “Spin your webs somewhere else, Kozak!” he snapped. “You are nothing but a despicable lout. How I let you talk me into this foolery—well, it has caused enough trouble for a lifetime. I need not your help or suggestions!”
Kozak turned his hands to the sky in surrender and bowed his head deeply.
“Of course, Wayne,” he said softly. “I am truly sorry and I know you will think of something to make it all right again. And when you do, I wish you the best of luck. Hopefully, an opportunity will arise, one with which you can take advantage. Opportunities can be long in coming, as life aboard a ship of His Majesty’s Navy turns slowly. It could be a year or longer before you return to London, where I am hopeful something will come your way.”
Spears thought of these words. Indeed life aboard a ship did cause the world turn slowly. At times, the monotony of the waves, the chores, and the endless bells tolling each hour bled together. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months, and soon, one lost all track of time. It seemed to Spears that this journey had lasted several years already, with no end in sight. Would an opportunity to prove his worth arise soon? Or would there be month after month of nothing but waiting and disappointment?
Kozak watched the boy and could tell that he was thinking over his options. It was time to spring the trap and see if the mouse took the bait.
“I was only wishing,” said Kozak, “that I had told you of my other plan, instead of the ill-advised debacle I presented to you. I should have known you were a man of determination and industrial spirit, not a fool bent on revenge.”
Spears now supposed that listening to another plan might not be a bad idea. He would only listen to Kozak and certainly think deeply about the consequences that any success or failure might bring. Waiting for another opportunity could take years and maybe Kozak could present a way out.
“And just what is this plan you have kept for yourself?” asked Spears.
Kozak now knew that he had Spears at his lowest low, with no way out. Anything, no matter how drastic, that offered a glimmer of hope to regain his honor or prestige would be acceptable. The pirate sprang his trap. And the mouse took the bait.
HMS Danielle sailed on into the night and all the next few days towards Rio Muni and Fort de la Selva. Watch replaced watch and crew members attended to the sails and ropes with extra care. Lookouts were posted in the tops and the crow’s nest. All knew they could encounter Spanish ships at any minute, so even the guns were prepared for action, the gun crews sleeping by their battle stations. After the sun set, no lights were allowed on deck that might alert the enemy as the Dani slipped silently southward.
Colin Stredney, in the crow’s nest, had spotted the few lights of Rio Muni and at just a few minutes past midnight, Captain Walker had ordered all sail taken in except the spanker.
“Why is it called the spanker?” Sean asked Harrison as they watched the sail being tightened.
“I really have not a clue, but I remember it because it is on the rear end of the ship, and like a bad child—”
“That’s where you’d get spanked!” interrupted Sean. “I get it! Spa-len-did!”
The ship more or less drifted for two hours in the darkness. Mr. Watt, with Captain Walker at his side, could see the faint lights of the Rio Muni settlements a few points off the port bow. They drifted past dark Bioko Island and continued eastward near the mainland. There, they could see a stubby outcropping of land where the fort resided. The plan was to release a small boat, row to the rocky beach, then come ashore just a short hike from the fort.
16
El Fort de la Selva
At just two hours after midnight on the twelfth of April, Sean and Jonathan were awakened by S
teward and, after some groaning and yawning, the boys arose. They gathered their swords and a few other effects, then allowed Steward to lead them silently out of the orlop and up the ladder to the main deck.
The moon was not yet up and the stars shown brilliantly white. There were so many, seemingly millions upon millions of sparkling lights, that Jonathan and Sean gazed in wonder.
“You can see the light they shine on our faces, Jonathan!” said Sean.
Jonathan smiled. He remembered his recent night watches when he would marvel at the stars and planets. Even Mr. Watt, usually silent and grumpy, would sometimes tell Jonathan of their names and colors, and how he used them to guide the ship. Jonathan could even see the milk-like stripe that spanned the sky on extremely clear and calm nights, and he wondered if each of those stars had planets like earth and if there were strange seas and lands to explore.
“I love the night watch, Sean,” was all he could say.
The Captain, Gorman, and Koonts were on deck watching Hudson, Hicks, and Harrison attending to the jolly boat amidships. With the help of Steward, they angled the boat over the side and manned the ropes.
“Good morning, boys!” whispered Harrison. “Or maybe it is still good evening. Either way, it is dark and it seems that this is becoming a standard of your service in His Majesty’s Navy! How many early morning boat trips have you taken with Captain Gorman?”
The boys smiled and looked at Gorman as he checked his own supplies: his sword, two pistols, a telescope, and a small pouch that hopefully contained food. He was not in his uniform, but he had donned dark trousers and a dark shirt, and had even obtained a black cloak that he wrapped around himself.
“Once again into the breach, dear friends, once more!” Gorman said, silently laughing. “Yes, we do seem to repeat our means of success; however, this one is slightly more dangerous than the last two. Steward, do you have the clothes for the boys?”
