No voice was raised in answer to Hawk's hail so they clambered across the high galleon and dropped onto the littered deck of the smaller vessel.
Aboard, all was in disarray. Tarred cordage snaked among broken spars and rotting sailcloth. The deckhouse door hung ajar on sagging hinges and its dingy interior reflected the deck's abandonment.
Separating, they undogged hatches and worked through the shallow cargo holds into the bilges.
Though the half-opened hatches afforded little light, Hawk could see enough to send hopes soaring. The ship had been built to weather gales. Her frames were close and thick. Giant knees, heavily tarred, were mortised and tenoned to provide great strength. Planking, more than two inches thick, gave her stiffness and Hawk saw no water seepage. He sniffed, seeking the sour smell of rot, but her bilges stank only of needed cleaning.
He stuck his knife point into each timber he could reach, testing for the punky feel of rot, but found only solid wood.
The ship's keel was a massive plank running without scarf and proving the shallow draft Finday had predicted. Hawk sighted along the timber, finding it fair without hint of sag or upward hogging.
Heavy stones clustered in the center hold afforded ballast for the otherwise empty ship. With her fine ends, Hawk expected her cargo too had been centered keeping bow and stern buoyancy unaffected.
Finished with his own inspection Hawk met an approving Finday atop the deckhouse, where they could feel the sun and look the length of the vessel.
"Found her name, Jonas. Stork. Poor name for a ship as careful built as this. Real craftsmen put this one together. She looks to be sound. Rigged proper, she'll sail like a feather. She'll be fast downwind and up to a beam reach. But without much in the water, I doubt she'll do well to weather."
Hawk nodded agreement. "She'll do, Finday. If we can get her, we'll strip her and refit. Then I'll show you how we'll make her sail into the wind." He nodded to himself as much as to Finday. "She's just what I've seen in my mind," Hawk slapped Finday on the knee. "Let's find out who owns her and see what can be done."
The Stork was known on the waterfront. She was company owned but had been unused for many months. Knowing docksiders spoke of her speed but complained of a sadly limited cargo capacity. They were quick to describe beamier vessels that could bring an investor more worthy returns.
Herr Olstahl spoke for the owners. A wasp of a man, Olstahl reflected little of the seas he dealt with, yet his business appeared prosperous with clerks pouring over thick ledgers.
Hawk and Finday were ushered into a carpeted office where many-paned windows looked across the ship-choked harbor. Herr Olstahl settled behind a heavy desk and spoke across steepled fingers. His English was strongly accented but was plainly a language he used often.
"Ah yes, the Stork." He answered Hawk's query, "A sound vessel. At the moment little used, but capable of excellent service."
Hawk wondered if Herr Olstahl had recently seen the ship he described. Hawk supposed it was the businessman's way to inflate the value of anything owned. Hawk's manner was more direct.
"Herr Olstahl, we have examined the Stork. We are aware of her condition. However, if upon closer survey she proves sound of hull, we would be interested in purchasing her."
Olstahl's lips pursed above his steepled fingers. "Ah, we, the company that is, have not truly considered offering the vessel for sale at this time. The Stork will soon be scheduled for refurbishing at our yard and, with a bit of sprucing up, will again be ready for sea."
Hawk had no faith in the company's refitting of the Stork. With her small carrying capacity, the aging ship's profits could never offset the repair costs. He called the man's bluff.
"Perhaps then, Herr Olstahl, we should withhold our offer until the Stork has been refitted, although it is doubtful that she would then meet our needs."
Olstahl was quick to continue the game. The Stork was virtually a lost cause for the company. To find a prospective buyer was most fortuitous and Olstahl had no intention of letting the American get away. "I see, Herr Hawk. It would seem a shame for a vessel with the Stork's swiftness to lie unused until our facilities were available. Allow me access to your plans and perhaps we can reach an agreement comfortable to both yourself and our company."
"Herr Olstahl, I am in need of a barge. Assuming her hull is sound, the Stork could be useful in such service. Her draft is shallow and she will tow easily.
"If your company finds value in Stork's spars and rigging, we would be willing to have them removed and returned to your workmen. Frankly, we consider everything above deck useless for our purposes."
Olstahl's gaunt features drew even more sour, but any offer exceeded prior expectations. Only recently he had pondered the need to dispose of both the Stork and the decaying galleon alongside. Sale of the smaller vessel would solve part of the problem.
"And what would your offer for our vessel be, Herr Hawk?"
"Eighty-four pounds, Herr Olstahl."
Shocked, Olstahl's face reddened, "Surely you joke, Mein Herr." But he could see that Hawk did not. "We could never accept less than one hundred and fifty pounds. Her timbers are worth that as scrap."
Although his face showed apparent disappointment, inwardly Hawk relaxed. Gaining a ship's hull at such a price surpassed his wildest expectations.
The bargaining continued but Olstahl stuck stubbornly at one hundred and twenty pounds. Hawk supposed it a matter of appearance. Undoubtedly the man needed that sum to face his accountants.
In time they clasped hands on the amount, pending of course Hawk's further examination of the hull. Extensive rot would void the agreement.
The day became busy. Finday returned to the Stork to complete a hull survey while Jonas toured shipyards in search of a cooperative and imaginative shipwright. Their planned alterations were drastic and a shipbuilder unwilling to devote enthusiasm to their venture would surely inhibit progress.
Until Finday completed his surveys and the ship was paid for, Hawk could say little of his plans for the Stork. Herr Olstahl believed the Stork would become a dismasted barge. Hawk intended to leave that belief unchanged until the ship was theirs.
Finday wasted no time. He chose a half dozen boys from dockside, armed each with a sharpened nail and promised rewards for every unsound plank located. The youths were over the side in an instant while Finday continued to poke and prod from within. Boys reported soft spots and Finday joined them in the chill water. There were a few bad planks but Finday was pleased. Overall, Stork's hull was sound.
Before evening, money changed hands and Jonas Hawk, of Pennsylvania, owned the ship.
In a nearby sheltered cove, Hawk found his shipyard. A family operation, the workings of the Van Doon yard had been given to a son, and Jonas discovered in Jan Van Doon the inventiveness and willingness to experiment for which he had searched.
A longboat with a dozen rowers warped the Stork from her berth and brought her to ways in the Van Doon yard. A full day was required to fit a cradle to the slender hull and rig the necessary hauling tackle.
The stubbed mast was lifted from its step and set aside. Then, on a high tide, ox teams and windlasses slowly drew the Stork's battered hull into view.
As his ship inched from the water, Jonas fairly danced about it. He squatted and knelt, bent and leaned, studying the lines and trueness of keel.
Ashore, the Stork looked vastly different from other ships. Fitted with a dragon's head she could have passed for a Viking warship of a thousand years earlier.
Privy to Hawk's plans, Jan Van Doon also approved the ship's lines. He could see the inherent speed and appreciate the shallow draft that would allow sailing in waters usually closed to large vessels. As a freighter, Stork could not compete; but as a swift and maneuverable raider, she might excel. Van Doon's task would be to utilize the potential of the lean hull to keep it seaworthy, yet quick and easily handled. The challenge was great and Jan too hungered to attack it.
Van Doon workmen sw
armed aboard the Stork and began ripping away the useless, the ill planned, and the damaged.
Gathered above Jan's drawing table, Hawk and Finday heard the lusty cheer as laborers tossed the ugly deckhouse aside. The thud of mauls and screech of loosening pins was sweet to their ears.
Sketching quickly, Hawk roughed out his ideas. "Our rig will be two masted. We'll make her a schooner with her mainmast more aft than usual. Foresail and main will be nearly the same size for easy handling. We'll point her bowsprit high to keep her jibs out of the water. We can use a proper dolphin striker on her and have good headsails to pull her to weather.
"There'll be no topmasts as we'll be shorthanded at all times. Also, she's light, and we'd heel her off her lines."
He drew other papers from his jacket and spread them for examination.
"We'll have only two guns but their range will be extremely long. They'll be mounted fore and aft as chasers." He pointed out a particular sketch.
"Each gun carriage will ride on a long set of wooden rails. When we are not using the guns they will be drawn back to keep their weight out of the ship's ends.
"When firing, the rails can be wedged high to let the gun's own weight slow and absorb recoil. That will save the ship's timbers from a lot of jolting."
The men worked at detailing the cannon mounts until Hawk opened another subject.
"I plan to steer this ship from the exact middle." He sketched quickly.
"We'll want the largest wheel we can get and the bottom curve will fit into a deck well. A bigger diameter wheel is easier to spin, and with few hands, we'll only be able to place a single man on the helm."
Van Doon put in, "The distance from the rudder is far, Jonas. The stretch in your steering cables will be severe."
They considered solutions. Hawk was adamant in insisting to steer from ship's center. Aft was to be unused except for serving the stern chaser. Centered, the helmsman could be heard and he could see much better all around.
Jan Van Doon worked out the mechanics. "First, we will begin stretching the best steering cable by hanging it with heavy weights.
"As the aft hold will not be in use, we will run a long tiller bar into the hold and attach our cables to it. We'll use lignum vitae blocks to turn the cable onto a large drum built to the steering wheel. As the steering cable stretches, a few turns on those pulleys will retighten everything."
As enjoyable as the designing was, putting plan to work devoured both time and money. Hawk willingly spent his gold, but he begrudged the time. He had waited patiently for exactly the right opportunity to escape the British but, with all now underway, his thoughts turned often to the Gulf of Mexico and Jose Gaspar.
Gaspar could be long dead and his treasure divided and forgotten. Other fears also rose to taunt Jonas. He intended, of course, to raise the pair of Brescian cannon from the wreck of the Ruth Covert. Suppose the two long guns could not be recovered, or suppose he incorrectly remembered their bore size and his projectiles would not fit? Suppose . . . But it was pointless to suppose and Hawk forced his energies to more useful pursuits.
Finday departed to assemble a crew. Hawk's requirements were few but positive. He would use no villains. The men must be experienced, tough, and versatile. They must be capable of complete loyalty to their captain and they must be able to work together without friction or discord. Later they might choose to captain their own ships within Jonas Hawk's trading company, so potential ship masters were preferred. Hawk insisted on a final skill. All must be swimmers. Salvaging the cannon to arm their vessel could require many hands. The water would be diving deep and they could not know how much underwater work would be required.
+++
"Leeboards!" Finday was appalled. "Barn doors, Jonas. That's what they look like. You can't use leeboards in the ocean. They'll do in calm waters, but heavy seas will rip them away as soon as they are lowered."
Jonas had expected the outburst and remained unperturbed. Wide beamed Dutch boats plying sheltered waters swiveled a mighty wall of wood into the water on their downwind side. Called a leeboard, the wall resisted the boat's tendency to skid sideward under wind pressure. Instead, the boat slid forward. A ship's keel performed the same function although it also provided deep ballast which helped keep the vessel upright.
Jonas' boat had no keel. Such a boat flew before the wind but faltered seriously attempting to sail into a breeze. Hawk judged leeboards could help.
"Of course, Finday, they will be of no use in heavy weather. Then we will have to bear off and hold what we can until fair winds. But, we are going to the Caribbean and the Gulf. Those are places of light air and milder seas. Our boards will be small but grab deeply. We won't go upwind like a schooner but we won't be at the mercy of every lee shore we get near."
Finday was not convinced but Jan Van Doon believed and the boards were fitted. For ocean going they could be deck stored. Once in southern waters an hour's work would swing and pin a board to each side. It was agreed that if they didn't work, the boards would be cast adrift and little lost for the attempt.
June came, brisk and clear, seeming warm after a winter of memorable cold. Bright with paint and varnish, the ship poised in her cradles, appeared anxious to again try her natural environment.
Jonas Hawk and his twelve grouped to one side, allowing the yard crew to work without interference.
Excepting their captain, each had passed his thirtieth year. As seamen, Hawk's crew was alike in widespread stance, weathered features, and critical eye. They were hard looking men with grim mouths and no nonsense air. Finday had chosen carefully. There were no bullyboys or men of petulant temperament. Any of the twelve could have captained the vessel but all had also served before the mast. Aboard ship they could be depended upon to perform any duty with complete skill, yet with proper deference toward whoever might command.
In other ways, Hawk's crew might appear a motley assemblage. One was a Malay and another a Spaniard. A single Van Doon had been included. The rest were British or American.
Again Finday had chosen wisely. If their venture succeeded, each might captain a company ship and each could own a percentage of the company. Though their ships might ply many oceans, Finday had looked ahead and each chosen had special knowledge of a trading route. They would present a powerful combine capable of tearing loose a rewarding share of business.
When satisfied with Finday's selections. Hawk had gathered his men in the low ceilinged quarters aboard their partly restored vessel. Without, a bitter wind cut through the best protection but the ship's cabin was warmed by a charcoal brazier covered with sand in the oriental manner.
The cabin was softly lighted by a number of ship's lanterns. To a bulkhead, Hawk had pinned a crude map showing only the placement of the areas he would speak about. The men lounged on small chests, at ease aboard any vessel, pipes drawing, and judging their young captain.
They saw a man barely beyond youth, but that was not uncommon in a service where fortunes rose and fell with every voyage. Hawk was of average size and quick of movement. Dark featured and as weathered as they, Hawk's eyes were bright with intelligence. That, they cared about, for all seamen discovered the dangers of dull masters, whether facing an ocean's violence or a port's business cunning.
When Hawk spoke he was direct and certain. He was convincing and, to a man, his crew's confidence leaped. Each expected that this time he had come onto something most only dreamed about.
Hawk stood before his map, a small stick ready as a pointer. He spoke swiftly and wasted no time on things they already knew.
"Two years ago I located a pirate treasure in the Floridas. Undetected, I hid a small portion of it. If we recover that portion your share will be enough to consider your time handsomely recompensed.
"The real treasure was carefully secreted. It is an immense fortune. If we take it, we will all be wealthy.
"We will sail in August directly for the Canaries. The great southern storms should be past by November. Then we will
sail the trade winds to the West Indies. We will have arrived and be reprovisioned by the end of February and should reach the Floridas during March."
Jonas' pointer followed his words but remained vague above the Floridas. For now, only he and Finday would know the treasure's position. Later, trust would be built and loyalties bound. Then all would be told.
Jonas continued, "First, we will recover the small treasure.
"In March the winds along the Floridas will still bring good sailing and the water will have warmed enough for us to recover our cannon from a shallow water wreck. These are special guns, worth the effort. Until we have them aboard and mounted, speed will be our only defense. Thereafter, we will have a wasp's sting both fore and aft.
"Before we sail for the large treasure we will divide the smaller. If all goes wrong, each of us will be able to protect his own." Nods of approval followed; for all recognized hazards that could separate them or even lose their ship.
"When we have the real hoard aboard, we will flee as though the hounds of hell chase us." Grim smiles greeted the point.
Jonas sat at their level, the intent faces highlighted by soft lantern light. He leaned forward, emphasizing with gestures, and his men too huddled closer, feeding on words that spoke of fortunes in yellow gold.
"This treasure is mostly in Spanish coins. The coins are in bags. Some bags are leather and others canvas. Each is perhaps half a yard long and about four inches across. There are also a few boxes, none too heavy to carry.
"When I saw it, there were about six feet of bags, laid closely, and it was three layers deep and . . . there was room for more." Men sighed and one said, "Whew" in deep appreciation.
Then Jonas told the hard of it.
Of course, it could be gone now. It has been a long time. If it is there, the treasure might be well defended. We will gain it by stealth, not by overpowering pirates.
"We are likely to have it very easy or almost impossible. If we are smart and lucky, we will get what we came for. If we are not—maybe they will get us.
Hawk's Feather (Perry County Frontier Series) Page 9
