“What do I have to do to take this guy down?” Heinrich thought. He had hammered this guy enough to bring down a brick house and he was still not out of the fight! “Bravo, King Karl!” Heinrich actually marveled with genuine respect for the man. “Okay, now, let’s do this right and end it before dropping from exhaustion,” his mind compelled him on. As young, strong, and athletic he was, the exertion was beginning to take its toll on his stamina.
Heinrich stepped toward his opponent, who was also breathing heavily. When Heinrich was only three paces away, Karl took a deep breath and drove in hard with his staff held above his head. Heinrich stood his ground and brought up his staff with both hands to block the downward swing. The powerful blow impacted exactly in the middle of the staff and surprisingly did not break it. The concussion of the impact sounded as loud as a cannon shot. The massive shock caused a powerful jolt that shuddered Heinrich’s entire body and drove him to one knee.
With the big man looming directly above him and getting ready to deliver another crushing blow that would surely kill him, he plunged the splintered end quickly into the face. The sharp jagged end found its mark below the sailor’s right eye, piercing through the skin of his leathered face, right to the bone. The painful thrust stopped the big man in his tracks and for a moment he froze. Heinrich then drew the staff downward ripping a strip of the cheek and jaw. The shredded facial flesh and skin hung grotesquely in loose flaps, exposing the whitish bone. Blood flowed profusely dropping unto the old wooden dock.
The injured sailor suddenly jumped back, stunned, as he saw the pool of blood at his feet. His nervous system had yet to realize the extent of his wounds. The damage to his cheek would surely leave a gigantic scar, one that would be much more visible than the ones he had collected throughout the years in other brawls.
Heinrich immediately recognized the opening he had and sought to end this fracas once and for all. This brought on an adrenaline rush, of which he took advantage. With a smooth move, he brought his right foot back to provide leverage and plunged the jagged end into the man’s ribs. Karl howled in pain, while Heinrich’s crew yelled enthusiastically. Again, his staff struck; this time on top of Karl’s head as the man was bent over. The man’s scalp split and he fell to his knees. Another blow to the head jarred him even more senseless. Karl’s wooden staff finally fell from his grip and he collapsed facedown onto the dock.
Heinrich stood over Karl and instead of clobbering him again, he let his staff rest on the dock as his chest heaved heavily. ‘King Karl’ was lying completely still, out like a light. The king was dethroned and would forever abdicate from his self-proclaimed position. Karl’s men were shocked by the outcome and little-by-little they began to shuffle off. A few came over to check if the big man was still alive. Catching his breath, Heinrich hoped that the man had not perished. Fortunately, Karl was still alive. His followers picked up their vanquished champion and took him away to seek medical treatment.
The former brute was very fortunate to have survived the brawl. For the rest of his life, Karl was but a portion of the man he used to be. He would be seen working menial jobs on the docks, scraping out a living with an erstwhile penchant in being friendly with anyone he came in contact. He had been transformed from bully one day to a dimwit the next; he became so docile and amiable; people could not believe this was the same man. Although plenty of adults and kids teased him cruelly, there were many that had been brutalized by him in the past who actually felt a tinge of sorrow for his pitiful condition and even treated him with kindness now that he was no threat. One of those men was Heinrich Drope; out of guilt for causing the man’s rueful state. No one but Otto knew that he had set up a small fund managed by a close friend on the local police force who saw to it that Karl had enough care to live out his life without too much hardship.
Heinrich felt so exhausted as if he had wrestled the north wind itself. He was swaying on both legs when he noticed Otto standing next to him, handing him a tin cup of water. He gulped it down in two swallows and filled it again from a wooden bucket one of his sailors was holding.
“You are bleeding like a stuck pig. Go sit down over there on the stack of lumber.”
When seated, Otto handed him a rag to press on the cheek wound; then took off his scarf and began tying it around his friend’s head.
“As bad as you bled and look, makes it hard to wonder who won the fight. The cheek requires stitching as soon we get you home. You know that Greta will have your hide for fighting.”
Heinrich scowled and replied, “Ja, I know she will. She will scold me to no end as she sews me up.”
“Serves you right. I don’t know how that kind landlord of a woman can put up with your stupid buffoonery for all these years. Here, give me the rag.”
Otto inspected the cheek wound. Drope did not comment, knowing his friend was right. He thought that perhaps he did overdo it a bit this time. If he was going to captain his own ship and start a business, he needed to act the part.
“It’s a nasty cut. Keep holding pressure on it.”
Otto handed him the rag back and used another one dipped with water to wipe the blood from Heinrich’s face.
“Have you satisfied your blood thirst? You went too far with this.” Otto said to him, an edge of disgust in his tone.
“What would you do … what should I do with someone that arrogant and who disrespects the ship’s crew, you included, and Herr Weber as well?”
“Herr Weber?” How did he insult him?”
“You heard the brute say he had no respect for the man who gave me this ship.”
“Oh, Heinrich, sometimes I really don’t know what to make of you,” said Otto shaking his head in frustration. “I know you just like to brawl. You believe it’s every sailor’s desire to get into fights? That is simply preposterous!” These words came from a tough and muscular man build much like Karl, only shorter. If people made the mistake, and plenty of them had, that Otto was a pushover, many had paid dearly for having done so. Otto was a bull when need be. The difference was he tried hard to avoid a fight.
The majority of the ship’s crew was still hanging around, proud that their very own captain had just fought – and won. Most of them got a glimpse of their master for the first time and were impressed. Otto couldn’t stand it anymore and irritatingly told them to go home and fight with their wives if they were so excited about a scuffle. The men continued chattering as they went off.
For the first time, both Otto and Heinrich saw some of the sailors that had come along with ‘King Karl’ still lingering on the dock waiting. Waiting for what? Three of them were some of the ones Heinrich had actually taken an interest in as potential crewmembers before the fight. Heinrich got up and approached them. Otto stayed by his side as if concerned for his safety.
“So, men, what is it you wish to speak to me about,” Heinrich said cutting directly to the chase for they weren’t there for the fresh sea breeze.
A tall and lean sailor stepped forward and spoke.
“Kapitän, I know you’re hiring a crew. My name is Manfred Rhine, like the river. I’m a crewmember on the Blue Goose; have been for seven years now. She’s got a new master and fancies himself as some marquee de grace and expects everyone to kiss his boots. I’m a simple man that likes to think I do a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay and beyond that, I don’t much care to suck up to any man, that thinks his arse smells better than the next man’s.”
Heinrich listened patiently as the fellow spoke, occasionally nodding in understanding. He liked the man’s candor; he definitely had a backbone.
“I always put in a hard day’s work and know how to work under authority. But I am also my own man; when I am off duty I do as I please as long as it doesn’t harm anyone. I like to think I am a free man in that regard. I would like the chance to be part of your crew if you will have me.”
Heinrich noticed the man had not broken eye contact with him the entire time he spoke. That was a worthy trait in itself. The
man made neither qualm nor excuses and showed he possessed a strong will. Heinrich took an immediate liking to him.
“This man is my first officer, Herr Kleist. He is my shadow and knows whatever goes on onboard my ship. Otto, won’t you please see to it that Manfred Rhine signs the register as a new crewmember. I believe we could use him.”
“Thank you, Kapitän,” Manfred said with delight. “You won’t be sorry for it,” he stated and now addressed his new first officer. Otto told him to hold tight while he got the register. Heinrich turned toward the rest of the men, each waiting their turn. The next seven men had their say and all but two had been accepted on board.
“Not a bad day after all, hey, Otto? We have six new crewmembers. We now have three weeks to complete the crew before we sail off.”
“I do have some more men in mind that Captain Hegel told me about. I will see to it first thing tomorrow.”
“I don’t envy your job in getting a final crew together.”
“It’s going to be a tough job to do within the time we have, Heinrich. The good thing is that I can count on many of our old crew to assist me and it also helps to have hired on experienced sailors. If they can’t cut it by now, they’ll never come around in three weeks. We will certainly find out, my friend,” Otto explained. “That is if you don’t scare every able-bodied man away.”
“Oh, come on, Otto. You heard the man’s awful disrespect. He was asking for it. Besides, I will make sure he gets back on his feet.”
“I will keep you to your word. You could have settled it a different way instead of feeding your foolish pride!”
“Talking about feeding, let’s say we find us a home-cooked meal. My stomach is starting to growl after all this excitement.”
“I suppose that means you want to go home with me to avoid Greta and Helga has to put another plate on the table tonight,” Otto said disgustedly.
“What are good friends for if you cannot depend on them to keep a man out of trouble?”
“Bah, you do just fine finding trouble all by yourself. You don’t need me to help you with that. Don’t think you’re escaping a scolding by coming to my home. You know Helga will be just as tough as Greta.”
“Ja, I know. But, maybe you can persuade Helga to talk to Greta about how sorry I am and lessen her anger at me.”
Otto expressed indignation and scoffed, “That will cost you extra, my friend. And I will see to it that I collect that debt.”
Heinrich winked at his good friend and the two ambled down the long dock, across the cobbled-stone square, and into town to enjoy a scrumptious evening meal and later, he would drown his guilt at a tavern before going home very late after Greta turned in for the night.
CHAPTER TEN
NEW WORLD
Wind billowed into the sails beginning to drive the schooner briskly through the water as it had left its moorings. The dock was crowded with people who had come to bid the See Wolf off. The majority of sailors aboard were single men. Only a dozen or so had wives, and few of them had children. Heinrich and Otto had made an effort to choose crewmembers that had few ties. Not knowing how long they would be away, he felt it was better to have single men onboard. For those few who had families, saying goodbye was a tearful occasion.
The sailor’s families knew it was inevitable that the day to sail would soon be upon them and although they cherished the time together, they dreaded the day of parting. Over years of saying goodbye, it never seemed to get any easier; at departure, tears flowed freely, and embraces were prolonged. Before setting sail, Heinrich provided plenty of time for the men to say parting words and give tender hugs to loved ones.
Once the crew had boarded, they only had time for a quick wave of goodbye as the ship left its berth. As soon as they were underway, sailors were scurrying about, busy with their tasks. But once the excitement of the launch subsided, the sailors would crave to be in their lover’s arms; their final caresses would be played over and over in their minds. Likewise, the sailor’s families experienced longing hearts, but they would have to settle on their fond memories.
As their families watched the ship sail away, its appearance became smaller and smaller by the minute. Family members lingered on the docks long after the crowd had departed, focusing on the speck in the distance. Soon it vanished.
* * *
The sun was shining bright this midsummer day in the year 1798, making the surface of the water shimmer. Heinrich, Otto, and Günter were proudly standing on the quarterdeck near the helm; the wind blowing in their faces. The long-hulled vessel was an eye to behold as she swept along, the fluttering of her sails could be heard over the roaring sea. The shallow draft allowed her to skim the water at a swift speed. The schooner headed due west on the North Sea.
The legend as to how this type of ship got its name was thought to be from an old Scotsman witnessing the newly designed vessel splendidly carving its way through the water. He had exclaimed in excitement, “Look how she scoons on the water.” Scoon was a Scottish term meaning to skim or skip. The term schooner was adopted.
The See Wolf had been freshly painted black up to the bulwarks. The bulwark, stanchions, and forward boom were stylishly painted a quartz-gray the rest of the way up, while the rails were the same black as the hull. There was a mix of gray and black highlighting other areas, such as cannon slats. The captain’s quarter was the roomiest cabin onboard; its windows on one side faced starboard, while another side looked across the main deck facing toward the bow. Most schooners had the captain’s quarters in the center of the main deck. Heinrich preferred to be at the stern where he could easily reach the helm. To him, access to this area was essential, not a convenience. The helm and the quarterdeck provided an excellent view of the entire vessel forward. To lead, one must know the pulse of the ship, and that was precisely what Heinrich had in mind.
As the ship exited Bremerhaven’s harbor, the North Sea sprawled before them. Their route was southwest towards the English Channel, sailing parallel to the mainland several miles offshore. As they passed the coastline of the Netherlands all they could see were dense masses of perpetually relocating fog. Occasionally land could be seen between the walls of rolling mist, but for the most part, the shore stayed hidden. After swinging around the Dutch coast near Den Helder, the ship headed south seeking the Straits of Dover to make its run between the European mainland and the Isle of Britain.
Eight days into the voyage, Heinrich awoke early and stood at the stern attired in a fur-lined cap and a thick wool coat, hands sunk deep inside the large pockets. His eyes were watering due to the wind that beat into his face with fury. They were sailing past Calais on the French coast of Normandy. As windy as it was, this was nothing compared to the tempest of the North Sea; this was rather mild in comparison. The schooner was making good speed as they traversed the English Channel.
* * *
Herr Weber had been true to his word to ensure the vessel was in tip-top condition. The broken rudder was replaced, and the ship was outfitted with new masts. It was a prize gift that Weber had bestowed to Heinrich as a beloved father to a son. To be the recipient of a marvelous vessel, including a large sum of startup money befitting a prince was quite humbling. He still felt guilty that his loyal devotion to the old man was exceeded by his personal desire to strike out on his own. Leaving had been the toughest decision of his life. He had sworn to himself he would make it up to the old man somehow, not only for such a benevolent generosity but also for being a devoted father-figure all these years. Weber was the father Heinrich never had. He was certain Weber wouldn’t want anything in return other than for Heinrich to succeed in his quest.
He could hear Weber saying to him; “No way, my dear lad. Don’t be such a fool! I want and expect nothing from you except to promise me that you will always be strong in wisdom, have a generous heart, and be of noble character. Less than that would break my heart. Now be off with you and make your dreams come true. Live the life that I would have chosen if given the cha
nce. I look forward to the day we see each other again, as I will miss you immensely; and Frau Weber will too. Maybe I have not said it enough over the years, but you are a son to me no less than any father’s son.”
Heinrich smiled at the thought of his last encounter with Weber. His departure from Bremerhaven was bittersweet. He would miss all those good-hearted people that had taken him in with open arms and nurtured him with such genuine kindness. He was miles away, yet his heart and mind had not altogether left the place that had been home to him for so long. He was suddenly shaken from his thoughts as he sensed someone standing nearby. Otto stood to his right and had stayed silent, sensing his friend was in deep thought.
“Otto, is there something you wish to speak to me about?”
“Only to tell you that Günter has charted our course through the channel and at your convenience we would like to discuss the next leg of the journey.”
“Sehr gut. Tell him I will be down in just a moment.”
“The crew is doing just fine; by the way, I believe our selection of men has been a success so far.”
“I agree. But they have not been tested as yet. That will come in time.”
“Ja, captain. There is much that lies ahead of us. We will surely see what mettle they are made of,” Otto said and then departed to see Günter.
Heinrich hesitated for several minutes glancing around the ship as men went to and fro with an air of confidence. Nodding his approval to the helmsman, Ebert Fiedler, he turned and went to meet Otto and Günter in the navigation room in the afterdeck house. The three discussed possible routes to cross the Atlantic. They had planned to do this after assuring themselves of the schooner’s robustness on the open sea; the ship had passed with high marks, now the decision on the best course to North America would be made.
Winds of Fury Page 10
