Winds of Fury

by Peter Duysings

  “What are the other concerns you have, Otto?” Heinrich spoke up.

  “One is our code of conduct. Although the code is not long, in fact, it’s quite short and simple; but it’s not simple enough for sailors who have been at sea for years to understand. They need more time to … let’s say … adjust to the fact that their habits need to change.”

  “Are you saying that there are those that do not like my rules?” Heinrich probed.

  “In short, some do have an issue with them. They question why there have to be changes when all the world’s seafarers work just fine under a system that’s been around forever.”

  “There are important reasons behind my set of rules; ones that will benefit every crewmember as you well know. One of those benefits will be our collective safety if we come in harm’s way.” Heinrich noticed some perplexed expressions on the faces of the men seated around the table. Heinrich didn’t think of himself wiser than any of the men sitting in the room, he merely thought differently.

  “Herren,” he began, “the greatest allies we have is our crew. We need the trust and loyalty of each one. If there is even one weak link, the rest of the crew could suffer. We are in a part of the world that we have never been before. We do not know what to expect, for instance, if the men come unglued at the first sign of danger, we could suffer the loss of the entire ship if pirates engage us. If a crew of cutthroats can attack a merchant ship in the Baltic as you know Otto and I experienced, it is much more forthcoming in the waters we will sail to soon. This new world of the Americas is a wild frontier. I do not intend to be caught off guard. If the crew is not in rhythm we are but a gaggle of geese. Do you follow my thinking?”

  Some men nodded but he also received back a few confused stares.

  “I am talking about teamwork. None of us in this room can perform all the tasks; hence we depend on each other and our men. Let me put it this way; each man is a part of a complete body. If any one of those parts fails, it cripples the entire body.”

  Heinrich paused and looked intently at each man. These men had sailed to many foreign ports, even some exotic ones where cultures clashed. He had sailed to these places with some of them, and there were plenty of times when it had taken group efforts to fend off conflicts. Ports were notorious for drawing foreboding consorts who sought sordid gain from visiting ship crews by violent means. There was no shortage of criminal elements and activities where there was commerce. He was trying to discern their doubt, disagreement, or indifference. What he saw was pondering minds ruminating over the words he had spoken.

  “Am I being clear enough?” Again, he looked at each one.

  Gradually, heads began to nod.

  “I am no Socrates, but I am a practical man. And I like to think that being practical also means being prudent. Everyone onboard must be ready to react in a crisis, to do that we must know that the other man is doing their job. I trust each one of you to back one another in any given situation. That, my friends, is what I am seeking in the hearts of the rest of the crew.”

  More heads nodded in assent. The group in his cabin knew exactly what Heinrich was talking about when it came to menacing situations in ports of call. Now Heinrich wanted to make his mindset known to the entire crew.

  “We will continue to discuss this subject, in the coming weeks and make plans how to ingrain it in the crew. Every chance you have to instill upon the crew our way of doing things, the better we can depend on each other in times of peril. Any other concerns, Otto?” Heinrich asked.

  “Just one more item, Heinrich,” Otto said using his first name, “that Klaus needs serious tutelage in how to assert his ballacheenees toward the other sailors.”

  “Balla … what?” Heinrich asked completely baffled.

  “I think he means testicles,” Dr. Siegfried Strobel interjected using anatomically correct terminology.

  “Ja, that’s what I mean exactly,” Otto said in frustration. “The lad is way too timid. He needs to be hardened to deal with life on the high seas.”

  Heinrich smiled while nodding agreement. “Ja, you are right, Otto. Young Klaus needs … aah, ballacheenees to be able to survive. Did I pronounce that word correctly? Have you been revising medical terminology, Otto?”

  Laughter exploded around the room, and Otto’s white Teutonic face flushed a crimson red.

  “I am … dead serious, Heinrich!” Otto exclaimed trying to be heard over the laughter. “Is there something you can give the boy, doctor?”

  Siegfried gave Otto a pathetic look and shook his head. “I only have one set of testicles, and I am not ready to part with them,” and then went back to laughing with the others. Heinrich surmised that this pretty much ended the meeting.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TROUBLE LURKS

  As goods were procured, the sailors were allowed shore leave. With their stipends paid and money jingling in their pockets, small parties of sailors ventured off, most planned on carousing the town’s disreputable district. The first officer had briefed the crew that any overtly obnoxious behavior, specifically any that was reported to the port authorities would be dealt with severely. Otto sensed many of the sailors heeded the warning much too casually, as they would aboard their former ships. He realized they were not yet completely acclimated to the rules of conduct laid down by Heinrich. Otto stood at the railing watching the men gleefully disembark and wondered what infractions would be committed during their stay in port?

  Conditioning men to new standards, especially trying to displace the old ones that were so deeply entrenched was not easy. On shore leave, the men would seek out those things they had been denied onboard – specifically liquor and women. Sailors happily partook in what was available to them, but the outcome of their revelry was not necessarily what they had hoped. A typical sailor was solely focused on forgetting his troubles and the best way to eliminate those thoughts was to dive into a jug of liquor. Unfortunately, most times doing so led to even more debauchery.

  The first officer made it clear to the crew; any incidence that put a black mark on the ship’s reputation would result in dire recompense. He hoped he had communicated this succinctly enough that when, not if – when, any infractions occurred, their section heads would deal with the minor ones. He did emphasize if any severe issues arose he was the one who would personally deal with it.

  Otto was hell-bent that the See Wolf establish a reputation as a splendid vessel with a top-notch crew and staff. It made life so much easier when the local constabulary was not wary of a crew’s troublesome repute. More importantly, having a good reputation helped to establish and maintain critical business contacts. This was after all what they sought.

  * * *

  The first morning in port, Heinrich along with Otto and Conrad disembarked the vessel on a fact-finding mission seeking captains who had sailed the Caribbean. They planned to engage them in conversation, trying to get a feel for the mercantile markets in the region.

  “Hold up Herren,” Siegfried called out to them. He came down the gangplank and caught up to the three waiting for him.

  “Is there a problem, doctor?” Heinrich inquired.

  “Nein, not at all. I want to tag along with you. Tonight, I will be spending my time mending bodies when the sailors return from their adventures in town. I figure I will have my hands full treating those who strived so diligently to uphold our code of conduct,” Siegfried stated in a mock sarcastic tone.

  The men chuckled at the doctor’s remarks, knowing old habits were hard to break. They proceeded down the long dock.

  As twilight approached, they returned to the ship. They had talked to a number of shipmasters and had gained valuable information. All-in-all, it had been a successful day. Heinrich now had a much better idea about what to expect on their journey to the Caribbean islands. He decided to continue with his plan to stay in New York one more day to consult a few more shipmasters and let the crew have another night in town. Heinrich wanted the men to get their thrills before going
back to sea. Heinrich had no objection about his crew having their fun. He understood the sailor’s habits were hard to break, but as long as those habits did not negatively affect their future business or the morale of the crew, he would look the other way.

  The next day found Heinrich and Otto together with Conrad again combing the docks for information. Siegfried, his prophecy fulfilled, was indeed busy treating wounds sustained by some sailors in their forays in town. Fortunately, they were minor injuries, and so far, there were no grievances from the port authorities.

  Back on the ship, a handful of sailors performed tasks to be ready to sail early the next day. Ernst together with a group of sailors and the cooks were taking fresh onboard supplies. It was a big job and took most of the day to store the items.

  * * *

  Doc Strobel had a mind for details when it came to health standards aboard ship. Proper food supplies and personal hygiene was at the top of his list because both affected the crewmen the most when at sea. It required thoughtful and thorough research for him to prepare for the task. He had sought out all he could on the subject before sailing from Bremerhaven. He saw this job as essential to keep the crew healthy and happy.

  Once at sea, the most common scourges were scurvy and head lice, with food poisoning ranking high as well. No one was excluded from these pestilences. Scurvy was best avoided by eating fresh fruit; however, long voyages made that rather difficult as fruit rotted rapidly. The See Wolf’s purser, Peter Albrecht, made sure the cooks were given enough money to purchase the food articles needed and the doctor advised supply of fresh fruit including a large load of limes to staunch the ever-present scurvy. On a long voyage, almost everyone on board was inflicted; consequently, sailors lost many teeth and succumbed to severe gum disease, which at the time the medical community didn’t realize could also cause blood poisoning. One of the ways sailors treated head lice was to put tar in their hair and spread it around. The term tar head or simply tars were hence coined from that practice.

  Diseases aboard ship also beleaguered seafarers; many were contracted in ports while the crew was on shore leave. Dysentery, typhus fever, and syphilis all could be traced to contact on shore. Determining which sailors were truthful when they said they had already had measles or chicken pox to gain employment was difficult to ascertain. Onboard in cramped quarters, diseases spread like wildfire. In 1798, medical science could not treat these sicknesses effectively. Siegfried had read up on some of the methods that Captain James Cook, the British explorer, had practiced only a few decades earlier in trying to deal with health matters aboard his ships exploring the Pacific Ocean. He firmly believed that cleanliness throughout the ship was the most effective method of preventing disease. So, he researched Cook’s proven techniques and planned to try them out on the crew of the See Wolf.

  The hygiene methods he instituted were cleanliness, ventilation, and fumigation. This meant scrubbing down the vessel with vinegar on a regular basis. Ventilation was not easily provided due to the layout of the ship; there were very few passages that could be opened to the outside. The fumigation was done by burning charcoal or sulfur to dispense with the vermin on board, such as rats hidden amidst the holds. No one was allowed under deck for at least three hours after the hatches had been uncovered to allow the dissipation of the noxious vapors.

  Changing to dry clothes often was another hygiene practice, which required additional storage, but was much appreciated by the men. When on land, the crews were to bath and wash their bedding and hammocks. Even on-board ship, the crew would air out their bedding as weather permitted. Captain Cook even had his men exercise when on land. Siegfried knew that this was near to impossible to get this crew to do. Cook had the advantage that his crewmen were naval seamen and thus military authority dictated his men follow the rules.

  Scouring the cooking pots and utensils in the galley was another way to diminish the occurrence of dysentery. Freshwater and food were replenished whenever possible. Adding charcoal powder to water helped to purify it. Daily drinking requirements were established for the crewmembers. The addition of more vegetables at meals was a key feature to aid their health. Fresh food also helped reduce the intake of salt. When that was not available, the crew ate the stored meat that had to be salted to retain its edibility. Captain Cook used sugar instead of oil in cooking as it was thought to aid against scurvy.

  Hot coffee made for a much better stimulant than liqueur, although not as popular. Ship tasks were safely performed while sober, so no grog was permitted unless there was a special occasion, which only the first officer or captain could decide. This was a bitter pill to swallow for the average sailor.

  Siegfried was of the mind that certain purging methods used by other medical profession did little to remedy ailments. He despised the technique of bleeding as an effective way to aid a patient. His firm belief was that loss of blood only led to the weakening of the body, not purging the ailments. To him, the treatment did more harm than good.

  * * *

  It was long past curfew when the five contemptible sailors, those the ship’s section heads had on their watch list, finally returned. They reeked of alcohol. Able seaman Schneider, who was on gangplank duty, advised the sailors that the first officer demanded to see them at once for their curfew infraction.

  “Bah, forget him,” said one of them in disgust.

  “Iffin he’s a problem wid us, he can jus’ wait ‘til mornin’,” asserted another with a sneer.

  After they brushed past Schneider, a commanding voice stopped them in their tracks; it was Otto’s booming baritone. The unruly men saw Otto’s firm stance fifteen feet in front of them; his angry stare bored into them. The pale glow of the moon provided just enough light to show the five drunken sailors huddled together like a pack of rodents. In their current state they were in no mood to be admonished by anyone; not even their first officer, they only wanted to find their bunks and sleep the few remaining hours of the morning before having to rise.

  A thin devious smile formed on Kessler’s face, the unscrupulous leader of the five, seeing the first officer, facing them alone. He thought that Otto was seriously misguided if he was planning to tangle with all of them by himself. Then, quietly, a form emerged from the shadows just behind Otto but remained hidden in the darkness. Kessler guessed the man most likely was one of the boatswains backing up his first officer. The sailor’s head throbbed from the incessant drinking he had done, but he assured himself that it wouldn’t be a problem if it came to a brawl; he and his mates could deal with this situation, after all, they were seasoned brawlers who knew every dirty trick in the book.

  Kessler searched the shadows for other men; but he only saw the usual small complement of sailors busy with their nightly chores, sneaking peeks in their direction, and determined they would simply play the part of curious onlookers if a fight broke out, not wanting any part of it. Much further away, as he strained to pierce the veil of darkness with liquor-induced blurred vision, on the afterdeck toward the stern, he saw a solitary dark figure outlined by the glow of the moon leaning his arms on the bulwark railing. From his particular angle, he couldn’t distinguish who was there, but no matter, if the first officer wanted a face-off, now was as good a time as any. Even better he reminded himself as there were five of them against two. The mousy Schneider at the gangplank would not jump into the fray; he knew better than to involve himself.

  “You men are three hours past curfew,” Otto charged. “What makes you so special? You are all under -”

  “Aaah, go squawk ta someone who cares, ya fat oaf,” Kessler snorted. He glanced at his mates looking for a reaction. He got it in fine form as the others snickered at the remark.

  Otto swallowed the gall caused by these obnoxious sailors who were not worthy to be part of his crew. He had decided the curfew violation was the last straw and he advised Heinrich he was going to kick these men off the boat that very night. Heinrich told Otto it was his call to make.

  “I want y
ou miserable lanyards off this ship right now! Whatever personal property you have will be tossed onto the dock where you can pick it up,” Otto barked out vehemently as he gestured at the gangplank with a muscular arm. “Get your arses off my ship this minute!”

  “Listen here, big fella,” Kessler slurred. “We’s figurin’ ta sleep da night an’ iffin’ ya want us off da ship, it can wait ‘til ‘morrow.” Harsh laughter cackled from the five.

  Otto was out of patience, and he stepped forward until he was but a few feet from them. The shadowy figure to his rear stepped out of the shadows and planted himself alongside Otto; the reprobates recognized the boatswain, Fritz Huber.

  “If I have to physically throw you off this ship that is entirely up to you. You are no longer part of this crew.”

  “Da big bad first officer has spoken, men. I’s guessin’ we’s better behave an’ do wad he says before he takes us over his knee fur ah spankin’,” Kessler spat out with disdain followed by a loud burp. The others now were folded over with fits of laughter.

  “That is enough! Disembark this ship immediately,” Otto’s voice shattered the still night air.

  “Light the lanterns,” Otto ordered. Sailors at the corners of the main deck lit lanterns that cast long shadows in their glow.

  One-by-one, other sailors inched their way closer to the disturbance. Schneider had come up the gangplank and stood at the bulwark nervously fidgeting, but couldn’t pry his eyes away.

  “I supposin’ ya thinkin’ o’ whippin’ us all wid dat liddle horse whip ya carry ‘round,” Kessler said with contempt.

  Otto brought out the riding crop that he had carried since his first days aboard the schooner. He thought it fashionable using it for a pointer in his daily supervisory tasks. It had become his trademark, the flexible stick with a small leather popper on the end. Without another word, Otto lashed it across Kessler’s cheek with a wicked slap. Stung severely, Kessler’s hand swung to the injured cheek, as he pulled his hand away, he saw it was smeared with blood. The visage of his fiery scowl bore into Otto. Otto merely tossed the crop aside and balled up his fists. There was no doubt to everyone present what was coming next.