Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1)

by Fletcher Best

  “Very good, Mr. Crabtree,” the Captain nodded. Jeff was curious to know what had become of Allison, but Crabtree and the Stevens did not seem inclined to volunteer any information and somehow it seemed inappropriate to ask as they were eager to partake of the food and drink.

  When everyone at the table had their fill, the Captain announced, “Thank you Mr. Turnbuckle, Mr. Gibson, Mr. Thomas, for joining us. We should be getting back to the ship.” The three elders arose and thanked the Captain for his hospitality. Turning to Jeff, the Captain asked, “So, Mr. Greene, have you made your decision?”

  “Yes, Captain. It seems to me that my best chance of getting back to my own time, slim though it may be, is to be aboard a ship. If you are still willing to have me, I would like to remain with you and your crew.

  “Aye! Very good, Mr. Greene. Men, welcome the newest member of the crew. We shall initiate him properly when we get back to the Wandering Wench!”

  Jeff was a bit nervous about what the initiation into a pirate crew might be, but he smiled and bowed to each of the men as they offered their welcome to the crew.

  “Now then, we should be getting back to the ship,” the Captain instructed as he headed for the door. Jeff and the others followed him out of the Tavern and down to the longboat. The two Stevens took the oars and Crabtree took the rudder as they pushed off from shore. The Captain turned to Jeff and said, “Well, Mr. Greene, tomorrow we will sail to Tortuga to join with two other ships in the Brethren of the Coast before we set off on our raids. You have come along at a fortuitous time as you will have a chance to earn a good deal of money and we will have a more competent ship’s surgeon when needed.”

  Graves spoke up, “Begging the Captain’s pardon, but am I not the ship’s surgeon no more?”

  “No, Mr. Graves. I do thank you for your service as the surgeon, but your skills shall be needed elsewhere. Mr. Greene will be taking over as surgeon.” Jeff heard Crabtree mutter thanks to God at the announcement as he waited for some sign of anger or resentment from Graves, but there was none.

  “Aye, Captain. Never did like dealing with all them medicines anyhow,” Graves said matter-of-factly.

  It was late afternoon now and the sun was beginning to drop quickly in the sky. The sea was calm and the trip back to the ship went quickly. As they approached the ship, there was considerable activity onboard. The Captain took note of it and was quick to climb the cargo net when the boat pulled alongside. “Captain!” Harrison yelled from the bow, “Ye will want to take a look at this!”

  As Jeff and the others from the longboat made it onboard, the Captain was already standing on the bow, looking out to sea with his spyglass. The Captain turned and yelled up to the crow’s nest, “Mr. Pike, can you see their colors?”

  “Aye, Captain! They be Spanish!”

  “Damn the foul luck!” the Captain exclaimed. “Mr. Pike, keep watch on them!”

  “Aye, Captain!”

  Coxen made his way to the center of the deck. “Men, gather ‘round.” Jeff stepped forward with the rest of the crew encircling the Captain. “It appears that at least 4 Spanish man o’ war are heading straight for us. It is to our good fortune that it is late in the day. They won’t make it here before sundown and they’d be fools to try to make it inside the reef without the sun. Most likely they’ll anchor a good distance out and wait to attack at first light. They will likely spread out and block us in to the island. Our best chance is to try to slip past them in the dark, and hope to steer clear of the reef. I do not wish to alert them to our plan, so set about making ready the ship to set sail on a moment’s notice but keep the sails wrapped loosely. Also gather any cargo that is of questionable value and keep it close to the rail so that we can dump it easily.”

  “Aye, Captain!” the crew said in one voice.

  The Captain turned to Jeff as the rest of the crew quickly dispersed. “I had hoped that you would have little to do as ship’s surgeon, Mr. Greene, but it may be that tomorrow will be a busy day for you. I also regret to inform you that if we are unsuccessful in escaping those ships, you will not likely live long enough to find your way home.”

  “I understand Captain, but I may have an idea that will help us escape…”

  Chapter 7: Success Or Death

  “Go on,” the Captain urged.

  “Do you still have the mask and snorkel that was on my kayak?” Jeff asked urgently.

  The Captain wrinkled his brow, “Are you referring to that piece of glass with the odd waxy rim and pipe?”

  “Yes, that’s it!” Jeff replied.

  “I have it in my desk,” the Captain said, walking toward his cabin. Jeff followed the Captain into the cabin and Coxen retrieved the mask and snorkel from his desk drawer. “What exactly is this device, Mr. Greene?” the Captain inquired as he handed it to Jeff.

  “It’s for seeing in the water. You place it on your face like this…” he said as he put on the mask, “…and then you can breathe through the tube when you swim.”

  “Swim?!” said the Captain, “In the sea?”

  “Yes,” nodded Jeff.

  “Mr. Greene, you do know there are monsters in the sea that will devour you, do you not?”

  “Yes, Captain, there are sharks and such, but with some precautions, swimming in the sea is not that dangerous.”

  “If you say so, Mr. Greene, but I shall not be one to test that.”

  “That’s fine, Captain, but with this mask, I might be able to do something to slow down or disable those ships so we can escape.”

  “What do you have in mind?” the Captain asked with curiosity.

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’d like to take a swim around the ship to see what the options might be. Those Spanish ships would be pretty similar in design as the Wandering Wench, would they not?”

  “Aye,” the Captain nodded, “They have more guns and are thicker-hulled, but otherwise they are much the same.”

  “Good,” Jeff replied, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go take a look at the ship in the water and see what I can come up with.”

  “Be off , then,” Coxen said with a wave of his hand.

  Jeff walked across the deck to the rail and began to climb down the cargo net. “Where ye be goin’,” Crabtree asked, just before Jeff’s head disappeared below the rail.

  “I’m going to look at the ship in the water to see if there’s a way to disable the Spanish ships.”

  “I’m afraid that be a waste o’ time Mr. Greene. There’s no way we’d get a longboat close enough to do anything before we was blown out o’ the water.”

  “I’m not thinking of going in a boat. I’m thinking about swimming to them.”

  “Yer out o’ yer mind!” Crabtree exclaimed.

  “Perhaps, but I think it’s worth a try,” Jeff replied as he reached the end of the cargo net.

  “Suit yerself,” Crabtree said as he turned away from the rail.

  The sun was getting low as Jeff entered the water. He swam along the hull, looking for some sort of vulnerability. He first thought about drilling or punching holes in the hulls, but quickly realized that it would be next to impossible to do with hand tools without being discovered. Seeing the keel, he next thought of somehow attaching something to it to create drag, but discarded that option as being unreliable and difficult to do without scuba gear. As he swam around to the stern of the ship, he placed his hand on the rudder to steady himself as he stared down the length of the hull, searching for an idea. The rudder shifted back and forth slightly in the water and suddenly it came to him. Jeff excitedly swam around to the side of the ship and called up to the deck, “Mr. Crabtree!”

  A moment later, Crabtree leaned over the rail. “Aye?”

  “Is that broken mop handle from my fight with Harrison around somewhere?”

  “Aye, it be in the fire wood box.”

  “Would you be so good to get it and throw it down to me?”

  “Aye,” Crabtree said as he backed away from the rail. A minute or so
later, he returned with the mop handle and tossed it down to Jeff.

  “Thanks!” Jeff said, swimming back toward the stern of the ship. Crabtree simply shrugged and returned to his duties.

  When he once again reached the rudder, Jeff sized up the broken mop handle to the space between the rudder hinges. He gently slid the splintered end of the handle into the space and tested the rudder movement. There was no longer any play in the rudder. He pulled the handle back out and swam back from the rudder. “Mr. Crabtree!” he shouted.

  Crabtree appeared at the rail, looking annoyed. “Aye?”

  “I’d like to look at the movement in the rudder. Would you turn the wheel to steer to starboard?”

  “Aye!” came the gruff reply. Jeff watched as the rudder turned in response to the wheel. “Good! Now back the way it was,” he called up to the deck. The rudder returned to the starting position and Jeff swam over and slid the handle into the hinge space. “Now to starboard again!” he yelled. This time nothing happened. Just to be sure, Jeff yelled once more, “To starboard, Mr. Crabtree!”

  A few moments later, Crabtree appeared at the rail. “What have ye done?! The wheel no longer turns to starboard!” Crabtree growled.

  “Good!” Jeff replied as he swam back over to the rudder.

  “Good?!” Crabtree screamed, “Ye have disabled the ship! Ye have cursed us all!”

  Jeff wiggled the mop handle from the hinge space and swam back out. “It’s OK Mr. Crabtree, I think you’ll find that the wheel turns now!” he said with excitement. Jeff did not wait for Crabtree to test the wheel and swam back to the cargo net. As he climbed aboard, Crabtree was leaning over the stern rail trying to spot him. Jeff ran across the main deck and up the steps to the navigation deck.

  Crabtree turned to face him, “Thar ye be! What did you do?”

  “I jammed the rudder with this!” Jeff replied holding up the mop handle, “and I can do the same to the Spanish ships!”

  Crabtree smiled, or at least made an expression that Jeff figured was as close as Crabtree’s face came to a smile. “Let’s inform the Captain,” Crabtree said as he headed for the Captain’s cabin.

  The Captain met them on deck, having overheard their exchange when Jeff was in the water. “So, Mr. Greene, you know how to disable the Spanish ships?”

  “Yes, all it takes is some wood wedges that can be jammed into the rudder hinges.”

  “Aye!” Coxen smiled, “That could work, but how will you get the wedges into the rudders on 4 ships hundreds of yards away in the dark? The sun will be down shortly and the ships are just now anchoring, still a good ways out.”

  “Last night it was nearly a full moon, so there should be plenty of moonlight tonight. All I need is a sack of wedges and perhaps a mallet to make them tight,” Jeff answered.

  “Mr. Greene, you’d never make such a swim at night. No man I know could make such a swim in the day and at night you’d be taken by the sea beasts long before you reached the ships.”

  “I’m an excellent swimmer, Captain. I’ll admit, swimming at night in open water is not the safest activity, but I know I can do this.”

  “Very well. Mr. Crabtree, have the men get Mr. Greene what he needs.”

  “Aye, Captain!” Crabtree acknowledged. Jeff and Crabtree gathered the crew and showed them the size of the wedges needed. Several men set to work immediately carving out the wedges from bits of scrap wood.

  “With 4 ships, 3 wedges per rudder side… I need 24 wedges, so let’s call it 30 to have a few spares just in case,” Jeff stated, as he started to carve a piece of firewood. The crew worked quickly and soon had the required number of wedges. Graves came forward with a small burlap sack to place the wedges in and the other Stevens produced a large wooden mallet.

  “Ye should have this as well,” Crabtree said, handing him a large knife with a sheath and rope belt.

  “Thank you, Mr. Crabtree,” Jeff said as he tied the belt around his waist. Jeff looked at the sack and mallet and realized that it was going to be difficult to hold onto all of it while swimming and placing the wedges. He was going to need an assistant.

  “I need a volunteer to go with me,” he said to the gathered crew.

  “None of the crew can swim, Mr. Greene,” Crabtree said dejectedly.

  The last thing Jeff wanted to do was ask Jenny to place her life in danger, but she spoke up before he could. “I can swim,” she said stepping forward.

  “Why did I not know this?” Crabtree inquired with surprise. “There is much you do not know about me, simply because you have never asked,” she replied, with a slight wink toward Jeff.

  “Good, it’s settled then,” Crabtree said to Jeff, “You have your assistant and your tools.”

  “But you are lacking your sanity!” the Captain said walking across the deck toward the group. “Mr. Greene, please reconsider. Your chances of success are small and your chances of dying are great.”

  “Your concern for my safety is appreciated Captain, but I truly think this will work and I believe I - and Mr. Robinson – will return safely,” Jeff replied confidently.

  “Your safety is not so much my concern as the potential loss of my new ship’s surgeon and now my cook. Actually, the loss of my cook would be the worst of it if you did not return!” the Captain said with a smile.

  “I will do my best to return your cook, Captain,” Jeff said with a chuckle.

  “Very good. I leave this endeavor to your discretion then.”

  “Thank you, Captain. We’ll leave after it gets fully dark - as soon as the moon comes up sufficiently to light our way.

  “I’ll see you off when you are ready,” Coxen nodded before turning and heading back to his cabin.

  The rest of the men wished Jeff and Robinson luck and dispersed to their posts. “We should get ready for the swim. Do you still have my swim trunks, uh, the skivvies I was wearing?”

  “Aye, in my chest below,” Jenny said.

  “Good. I’ll change into those and we’ll need to modify some clothing for you to wear that won’t have as much drag in the water.”

  “Aye,” she replied as they headed to the crew’s quarters. Jenny opened her chest and pulled out Jeff’s swim trunks. He pulled off his pants and she swatted his bare behind as he bent over to pick up his trunks.

  “Hey!”

  “What?” she said, trying to look innocent.

  Jeff pulled on his trunks and then looked at Jenny. “OK, we can cut off the sleeves of your shirt and shorten the legs on your pants so you can swim better. It would also make it easier for you if you take off the wrap on your chest.”

  “I think you just want to look at my bosom,” Jenny said with a smile.

  “Well there is that,” Jeff agreed, “But that wrap is really going to weigh you down. The problem is that in a wet shirt, your breasts are going to be hard to disguise when we get back.”

  “What if I remove my shirt and wrap after we get in the water and stash them somewhere so I can put them back on when we get back,” she suggested.

  “It’s probably going to be tough getting that stuff on in the water, but I guess there’s not really another option. We’re also going to need something to re-disguise your face after you’ve been in the water.”

  Jenny pulled a small leather pouch from the chest. “I can carry some ash and grease from the fire pit in this.”

  “That will work,” Jeff agreed. “Well, let me get your pants cut off,” Jeff said as he pulled his knife from its sheath. He bent down and carefully cut the cloth to just above Jenny’s knees. “I guess we don’t need to do the shirt if you’re going to take it off anyway.”

  “Cut my sleeves too. It will make it easier to put it back on if the sleeves are short,” Jenny said.

  “Good thinking,” Jeff agreed.

  When the modifications were done, Jenny made her way to the galley for the ash and grease as Jeff made his way onto deck. It was now getting quite dark and the 4 Spanish ships were just barely visible outsid
e the reef. Jenny joined Jeff on deck. “I’m ready when you are,” she said.

  “We’ll wait until the moon comes up a little bit so we can see where we’re going,” Jeff replied.

  A short time later, the bright orb of the moon appeared above the trees onshore. The Captain had noticed it through the windows of his cabin and made his way on deck to see the pair off. “Good luck and please return safely.” Coxen said, bowing to them.

  “Thank you, Captain,” they replied together. The other members of the crew circled around them as Jeff tied the bag of wedges around his shoulders with a piece of rope and slid the mask over his face. Robinson gripped the mallet in one hand as she grabbed hold of the cargo net with the other and the two swung themselves over the side. They quickly made their way down the net and into the water and then swam to the back of the ship where Jeff helped Jenny remove her shirt and wrap in the darkness. They secured the clothing as best they could to the ship’s rudder with a length of twine and set off for the closest of the Spanish ships.

  The moon was now high enough that all of the enemy ships were clearly visible against the night sky. It was a long swim, but to Jeff’s relief, Jenny was obviously a very strong swimmer. As they approached the inside edge of the reef, Jeff stood up slowly in the shallows to find a path through the rocks where there was too little water to even swim across. Judging from the break of the waves, Jeff saw what looked like a good opening and led Jenny to it. They made their way through a small break in the coral and out to the much deeper part of the reef. After swimming for what seemed like an eternity, they finally reached the first ship.

  The pair swam slowly toward the stern of the ship in hopes to avoid detection by the crew. Fortunately, the two swimmers blended in to the waves and they easily made it to the rudder. The two treaded water as Jeff pulled the sack of wedges from his back and handed it to Jenny. Jeff untied the sack and pulled out a wedge. “Back in a moment,” he said before taking a breath, grasping the rudder, and pulling himself below the water. Though it was dark, the water was clear and the space in the rudder hinges was visible as the ship bobbed in the moonlight. Jeff placed the wedge just below the lowest hinge on the rudder and shoved it in as hard as he could. He returned to the surface and Jenny handed him the mallet. Jeff pulled himself under once more and attempted to swing the mallet, but quickly realized the buoyancy of it was going to limit his swing. He opted instead to grasp the very top of the handle and use short strokes with the top of the mallet head to tap the wedge into place.