by Tim Collins
Captain Bartholomew yelled for the others to come out. There was no point in hiding now. Samuel ran over to the flagpole, lowered the British flag, and raised our pirate flag.
Our crew raced onto deck, and Ed and Ollie handed everyone ropes with grappling hooks on the end. They lobbed them into the rigging of the other ship until there was a tangled web linking us.
They all began to drag on the ropes, and I joined in. I grabbed one with both hands and yanked it back as firmly as I could. I probably didn’t make a massive contribution to reeling the ship in, but I felt like I was doing my part.
As the ship drew nearer, Samuel lit the fuse of a large wooden ball and lobbed it over. It landed on their deck with a loud explosion and thick smoke spread everywhere. Their crew yelled in panic as Samuel kept on throwing more balls.
I now know these balls were grenades filled with a mixture of gunpowder, rags, and tar. I’m glad they didn’t give me the job of throwing these. Samuel only had a couple seconds between lighting and throwing them if he wanted to keep all his fingers.
Ollie lobbed small metal spikes onto their deck as the thick smoke spread. I could hear the cries of the sailors as they threw themselves down to escape the explosions.
Captain Bartholomew lowered a wooden plank from the starboard side of our ship onto theirs. He drew his cutlass and rushed into the smoke. Ed, Ollie, and the others on battle duty followed him. I hung back with George, Nathaniel, and a couple of the others.
Every so often, a gap in the smoke would clear and I’d see a flying fist or swinging cutlass. I saw Captain Bartholomew firing his flintlock, then turning it around to bash one of the sailors on the head.
I heard slashes and screams from the smoke, then Captain Bartholomew telling us to climb on.
George stormed down the plank and I tried to follow her. But I felt it shift beneath my feet, and I had to stop and throw my arms out to the sides just to keep balance. I could hear the others behind me telling me to get a move on, and then I made the mistake of looking down at the waves.
My legs went weak. I felt like I had when I had fallen down from the sails. Only this time I wouldn’t crash down into the arms of someone on deck. I’d splash into the sea, no doubt to be scoffed by a hungry shark.
I wobbled left, I wobbled right, then I felt my feet being swept out from underneath me. I clenched my eyes shut.
It didn’t feel like I was plummeting down.
I opened my eyes again and saw that Nathaniel was carrying me onto the other ship. He lugged me over the deck and into the captain’s quarters.
“You search in here, and I’ll try the cargo hold,” he said.
He set me on the floor and dashed away before I could thank him.
I ran around the cabin, looking for the treasure. There wasn’t any hidden under the pile of clothes in the corner or inside any of the hammocks. There wasn’t a single gold coin or precious jewel in the whole cabin. I just hoped the others were having more luck.
There was a large pile of maps on the table. If I couldn’t find any actual treasure, I could at least find out where some was buried. I sifted through the whole pile, looking for a desert island with a big “X” in the middle. But all I could find were boring trade route maps.
I heard Captain Bartholomew calling us back. So much for my treasure hunt. I grabbed a compass from the desk and rushed out. It was better than nothing.
The crew rushed back across the deck, and this time I made it over the plank with no problems.
I was still scared of falling in, but I was much more frightened of getting caught by the sailors we’d robbed.
George and the others piled onto our deck behind me. It looked like none of them had managed to find any treasure either. No one was carrying any chests or jewels. They were clutching piles of cloth, medical potions, and barrels of food. It made me feel a lot better.
When we were all back on the deck, we cut the ropes tying us to the other ship and let our sails down. Samuel kept throwing his grenades at their quarterdeck as we moved off, trying to stop them from coming after us to get revenge.
The sailors should be pleased they escaped with their lives. Not many people meet a bunch of ruthless pirates like us and live to tell the tale.
Someone from the other ship fired their flintlock at us. The shot went wide, but I realized it might be a good idea to get off the deck.
I tried retreating to the crew’s quarters, but found that Nathaniel was setting up his surgery for those wounded in the battle. I decided this might not be a great place to relax either.
In the end, I went down to the cargo hold and watched the bilge water swaying from side to side. It was strangely relaxing after such a stressful day.
GET REAL
Pirates used early versions of grenades that were balls made from iron or wood filled with gunpowder. Rags and tar could be added to give off smoke and make things more confusing for the enemy. The metal spikes were known as caltrops. They had a triangular design that meant one of the sharp points always landed upward. Sailors usually had bare feet, so this was a simple and painful weapon.
Sunday, March 19th
We gathered in the crew’s quarters this morning while Captain Bartholomew examined the loot we’d taken. To my surprise, he was pleased with all the others for taking stuff like cloth and medical supplies. But my contribution didn’t go down very well. There were sniggers from the rest of the crew as I showed my compass to the captain.
“That was all I could find,” I said. “I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find any treasure. I even checked for maps of desert islands, but the only ones I could find were of trade routes.”
“Idiot!” shouted Captain Bartholomew. “Those are exactly what we want! If we know where the trade routes are, we know where to attack merchant ships.”
“But why bother with all that boring stuff when you could dig up some treasure instead?” I asked. “We’d never need to attack another ship again if we found an entire chest full of gold.”
“What are you talking about?” asked the captain. His face was bright red. “No one leaves money lying around in the ground! If you want to stay on my ship, start living in the real world.”
I was sent to my hammock, and I wasn’t even allowed to eat any of the food the others had plundered. They said I wasn’t allowed my share because I didn’t perform my duties properly. Nathaniel took pity on me this evening and gave me a hardtack biscuit, so at least I didn’t go totally hungry.
I wasn’t that sad about missing out on boring food anyway. I was more upset that our captain had no interest in searching for buried treasure. That was the bit I was most looking forward to about being a pirate.
GET REAL
Although pirates search for buried chests of gold and jewels in stories such as Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, it didn’t happen very often in real life. Pirates were much more likely to divide their money up and spend it straightaway than bury it in a secret place.
Real pirates were more interested in trade maps than treasure maps. Trade routes could direct them to ships loaded with valuable cargo such as spices or cloth.
Chapter 6
-
Pirate Haven
Monday, March 20th
I found out something very exciting today. I’m going to be on dry land again soon. Captain Bartholomew has decided to take us to a small town called Port Anthony that’s known as a haven for pirates, where we’ll be able to stock up on supplies.
It’s going to be so strange to be on land again. I’ve been at sea for five weeks now, and I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have solid ground beneath my feet.
I hope the pirates I meet in Port Anthony are more like the ones I was expecting, with one-of-a-kind slang, rowdy songs, and talking parrots. Maybe I can switch to a different crew and go off hunting for treasure like I wanted to d
o in the first place.
GET REAL
Pirate havens were ports where the authorities left seafaring criminals alone. They could sell stolen goods, recruit new members, and stock up on essentials. Some of the most famous ones were Port Royal in Jamaica, Barataria Bay in America, and Tortuga, a Caribbean island that now forms part of Haiti.
Tuesday, March 21st
Stepping onto land again was just as weird as I expected. When I first boarded our ship, it took me ages to get used to the movement of the boat. Now being somewhere that wasn’t lurching from side to side felt just as odd. I found myself swaying as I walked.
Port Anthony was a maze of shacks spreading from the beach up to the surrounding hills. I saw hundreds of pirates sitting outside bars and drinking from pewter tankards or haggling with store owners as I staggered around.
I accidentally bumped into a man with a red beard who was sitting on a barrel and he accused me of drinking too much grog. I told him I’d never even tried it, but he just laughed. Judging from his breath, he’d tried it a lot.
The pirates in the haven looked pretty much the same as the ones on my ship, with straggly beards, dirty faces, and missing teeth. But a few of them looked more like the sort I was hoping for. I saw one man with a huge black beard twisted into pigtails with ribbons in them. I wanted to find out if he also spoke like a proper pirate, but when he fixed his small black eyes on me, I was too frightened to speak.
I suppose the man wanted to look scary, and it must help him when he’s threatening people. But it made me glad the pirates on my ship are actually quite normal. I reckon ribbon-beard man would do more than banish me to my hammock if I messed up.
I was just getting used to dry land again when I spotted Ollie, who was carrying a huge barrel. He said we were getting ready to leave again, so I followed him back to the ship.
On my way, I found a trader who was happy to swap my compass for a bag of limes. It’s just as well because when I got back on the ship, I found that nearly all the others had bought nothing but grog. Nathaniel had bought some barrels of biscuits, Samuel had bought some rope, and Captain Bartholomew had managed to find some trade maps, but the rest of them had only bothered to stock up on the disgusting drink. If you ask me, that was hardly worth going all the way to a pirate haven for.
GET REAL
Grog was the name for a mixture of water and rum that was popular on ships. Water can taste horrible when it’s been stored for too long, so many sailors added rum to make it drinkable. To stop sailors from arguing over shares of rum, it was mixed with water before it was given to them.
Chapter 7
-
A Storm
Breaks Out
Wednesday, March 22nd
Things have gotten very rowdy on the ship since they bought that grog. Instead of getting on with their duties, the crew sat on the deck for most of today shouting at each other.
At least it gave me another chance to talk to George, as she’s the only other one who isn’t interested in the stuff. She says the crew always gets sloppy when they’ve got a fresh store of grog, but she doesn’t mind because it gives her a chance to try out some different jobs.
She let me help her today, and I feel like much more of a proper sailor now. She showed me which ropes to pull to control the sails. It really made my arms ache, and sometimes the ropes passed so quickly through my hands that my palms felt like they were burning. She also taught me how to secure the ropes by tying different kinds of knots. The more the rest of the crew drank, the less they cared about their duties, and soon we were pretty much running the ship.
Now I’m glad the others wasted all their money on grog. It’s given me my best training as a seafarer yet.
Thursday, March 23rd
I was helping George with the sails again this morning when a storm broke out.
Thick black clouds blew over and strong winds whipped against the starboard side of the ship. We began to sway as strong waves swept across the deck. Heavy rain lashed down and everything went dark.
George rushed down to the crew’s quarters. Over the noise of the rain, I could hear her yelling. She returned on her own.
“I can’t wake any of them up,” she said. “It must be the grog. We’ll have to prepare the ship on our own. Help me with the sails.”
She clambered up the ropes and I followed. I tried to forget what had happened last time I climbed them. That had been a reasonably calm day and I’d still managed to fall off. Now I had to do it in a high wind and there would be no one to catch me.
At the top of the ropes, George ventured onto the yard and tugged up the topsail. I reached out and helped her tie it. It was lucky she’d given me the lesson about knots the day before.
We scurried back to the deck. The shortened sails helped us cope with the winds, but the huge waves were still rolling us around madly. The ship plunged up and down so fast I found myself slamming into the deck. I was amazed the others were managing to sleep through this.
“We’ve taken on too much water,” said George. She rushed over to the pump and heaved the handle up and down.
“Don’t worry!” I shouted. “I’ll get my bucket.”
This was the moment all my bilge water training had been leading up to. I ran down the stairs, managing to stay on my feet as the ship shunted me from side to side.
I grabbed my bucket and took it down to the bottom of the ship. The bilge water was so high it almost came up to my knees. I filled it with water and ran back up the stairs, as more foaming waves washed down.
There was no way I could remove the water faster than it was coming in. But I had to try. If we took on too much water, we’d sink.
I emptied my bucket over the side of the ship.
“That’s not going to be quick enough!” shouted George. She abandoned the pump and ran to the barrels of grog on the starboard side. She picked one of them up. “We need to lighten the load or we’ll sink.”
“You can’t get rid of those,” I said. “That’s the grog!”
“It’s a choice between grog and death!” she cried.
“I think the others would still choose grog,” I said.
“Well they’re not here, so they don’t get a say!” she shouted.
She tossed the barrel over the side.
I wanted nothing to do with this. There wasn’t anything in the pirate rules about wasting grog, but I expected the punishment was getting whipped, keelhauled, and then marooned.
I continued removing the bilge water with my bucket while George tossed the precious grog over the side.
Luckily for us, the storm calmed down as quickly as it had swept in. With my brilliant bucket skills, I could now remove the water faster than it was coming in. After just a few hours, the bilge water was almost back to its old level.
It was around this time that the others finally stirred.
Ollie stepped up onto the deck, looked at us in confusion, then ran to the port side and threw up.
“Thanks for helping us in the storm,” said George.
Ollie’s only reply was another burp.
Soon all the crew were on deck too. One by one, they found a free space on the side of the ship to lean over and throw up.
It was pretty disgusting, but I suppose I should be grateful they aimed their sick over the side of the ship rather than letting it flow into the bilge water. That would have made my job unbearable.
Friday, March 24th
After all the drama of yesterday, the sea’s been totally calm today. I wish I could say the same about the crew.
As soon as they discovered that George had gotten rid of their precious grog, they got really angry with her. Then she got annoyed with them for being ungrateful and went to her hammock to sulk. I did warn her they’d rather drown than lose their grog.
I felt like I should defend Geo
rge, but I didn’t think the crew would listen to me, so I went to see Captain Bartholomew instead.
I found him in his quarters studying the map he bought in the pirate haven. I explained how George’s quick thinking had saved everyone, and suggested he explain it to the crew.
To my surprise, he agreed. He gathered everyone on deck and demanded they all apologize to George individually.
Some of the crew looked annoyed, but Captain Bartholomew managed to lift their mood by talking about the next attack. He said his new map has loads of trading routes marked on it, and the merchant ships would be easy pickings for us. He said we’d be able to steal so much valuable stuff, they’d never run out of grog again.
The crew let out a massive cheer at this, which I thought was odd. Don’t they remember how sick the grog just made them? Or do they enjoy being sick? It’s very strange.
Anyway, the captain’s speech did the job, and every single member of the crew went downstairs to apologize to George. A few of them even thanked me too, which I wasn’t expecting.
I almost feel like I’m becoming a proper pirate after my shaky start.
Saturday, March 25th
I don’t know why the crew was so upset about losing their grog. Things have been much better since George got rid of it. Everyone has been doing their duties properly, and no one has been barfing over the side.
I finally got through all the bilge water this afternoon, so I hung around with George and got her to go through some more of the stuff she’s learned about ships.
