Pirates of the Storm: Stranded In Time Book 1

by Fletcher Best

  Chapter 5: A New Day

  Jeff was awakened by the sound of the crew around him as they stumbled from their bunks and stomped up the steps to the deck. Robinson’s bunk was empty as she was already in the galley preparing food for the others. Jeff sat up slowly. His head was pounding from the excess of the previous night’s rum. Perhaps Robinson would boil some water from the rain barrel for him so he could at least partially rehydrate and relieve the hangover.

  Jeff made his way up the steps and onto the deck. The sun was just coming up and even though it was still low in the sky, it was still painfully bright in his eyes. The crewmen on deck were already engaged in a variety of ship maintenance activities. One man nearby started working on securing deck boards by hammering in nails that had worked their way up. The noise shot through Jeff’s head like a bolt of lightning, so he quickly moved toward the far end of the deck.

  He noticed a thin cloud of smoke emanating from below deck and guessed that it was coming from the galley, so he followed the cloud down some steps and through a short passageway that opened up into a room with pots and kitchen implements. Robinson was slicing up and pulling large seeds out of some sort of tropical fruit or vegetable Jeff did not recognize. “Good morning, Mr. Greene,” Robinson said with a smile, “I trust you slept well.”

  “Yes, thank you, Robinson. I don’t want to interrupt your work, but I was wondering if you might boil me some water to help my hangover.”

  “The only water we have is the rain barrel, and I don’t think you want to drink that, even with it boiled,” Robinson replied.

  “If you’re willing to boil it or at least allow me access to the stove, I will take my chances.”

  “Very well, you may collect some water in that empty rum bottle if you like,” Robinson said nodding toward a shelf next to him. “The rain barrel is on the aft port side of the deck.”

  Jeff made his way topside and walked over to the rain barrel. He now saw why Robinson and the Captain had recommended against drinking from it. Thick algae covered the walls of the barrel and a thin layer of what looked like pond scum floated on the surface of the water. The thought of drinking the water combined with his pounding head made him more than a little nauseous, but he decided that disgusting water was better than none in his current state. He placed the tail of his shirt over the opening of the bottle to serve as a makeshift filter before dunking it below the surface. The bottle filled quickly and Jeff returned to the galley. “Just put it directly in the coals,” Robinson instructed, nodding towards the brick-lined fire pit. Jeff complied and the coals hissed as the water on the outside of the bottle made contact.

  “What’s that you’re preparing?” Jeff inquired.

  “They call it breadnut. The Captain likes the seeds for his morning meal. I also make flatbread from them. It tastes much better than the hardtack.” Robinson turned and pulled another breadnut from a pot hanging in the fire pit and water dripped over the coals with a sizzling sound.

  “Wait a minute!” Jeff exclaimed, “If you don’t have drinking water, what are you cooking the breadnuts in? For that matter, how did you make the stew last night?”

  “Well, I’m cooking the breadnuts in seawater and as to the stew, that was cooked in a combination of seawater, grog, and coconut water.”

  “So you do have coconuts on board?” Jeff asked.

  “Of course, we have boxes of them in the cargo hold,” Robinson replied, “You’d be far better drinking the coconut water than that boiled water from the rain barrel.”

  “Nobody told me there were coconuts!” Jeff exclaimed.

  “Did you ask?” Robinson said with an arched eyebrow.

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s why!” the cook said with a laugh.

  Robinson bent down below the galley table and stood up with a coconut that had been in a bin underneath. She tossed it to Jeff as she bent down again to pull a large machete-like knife from below the table . “Help yourself,” she said sliding the machete across the table towards him as she turned her attention back to the breadnuts.

  Jeff picked up the blade and held it and the coconut in front of him. “What’s the best way to cut this thing open?” he asked. Robinson stopped what she was doing and sighed as she walked around the table. Taking the coconut and machete from him, she sliced at the coconut, rapidly removing the outer husk and exposing the inner nut, finishing with a slice across the top of the nut to expose its contents, narrowly missing Jeff’s throat with the blade as it passed across the coconut. The annoyed cook handed the coconut back to him and returned to the other side of the table to resume her work. “Thanks,” Jeff said, as much in gratitude for her not cutting his throat as for opening the coconut.

  “You’re welcome,” Robinson replied. “But you’re on your own next time,” she said pointing her knife at him to emphasize the point.

  Jeff noticed that his water was boiling, so he grabbed a cloth and pulled the bottle from the coals. “Take that with you and get out of my galley. I’ll never be done with my work with you in here!” Robinson growled at him, but then smiled and gave him a wink.

  “Yes, sir!” Jeff said with a salute as he turned and walked out. Jeff found a spot on deck that was out of the way of the crew and set his bottle of water to cool by the rail as he slowly drank his coconut. He could see a group of crewmen eyeing him from the far end of the deck and speaking in hushed tones.

  After some discussion, one of the men approached him. “Graves is me name. Greene is it?”

  “Yes,” Jeff said, extending his hand.

  There was an awkward moment at Graves just looked at him quizzically. “Good to make your acquaintance,” Graves said, bowing his head.

  Jeff bowed in return, quickly making the assumption that this was the customary greeting for the time. “You’re the ship’s surgeon, aren’t you?”

  “Aye,” Graves replied. “And ye be from another time?” the crewman asked in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “Be ye sent here by a witch or some dark magic?”

  “I don’t really know, but I think somehow the storm brought me here.” “It be an odd storm,” Graves nodded, “Have not seen one like it in all my days at sea.”

  Jeff finished the last of the coconut water and set the nut down to save the meat for later. “How long is that?” Jeff asked.

  “Near 10 years now.”

  Jeff ‘s heart sank with this confirmation of the Captain’s news that such storms were rare and that his chances of getting back to his own time were slim. Graves noticed the look of despair on Jeff’s face and changed the subject. “Ye like coconuts?” Graves asked.

  “Yes, they’re OK, but mainly I just wanted to something to drink besides rum.”

  “Why?” the pirate asked with a look of confusion.

  “I have a hangover and I need to rehydrate…” Jeff began, but stopped himself. “It’s a thing we do in my time,” he explained.”

  “Ye come from a strange time, Mr. Greene.”

  “That I do, Mr. Graves.”

  Graves cocked his head toward the men at the other end of the deck. “Come, I’ll acquaint you with the rest o’ the crew.” The two men walked across the deck. Graves made a loud whistle to draw attention and the crewmen stopped their various activities and turned toward them. “Mates, as ye know this be Mr. Greene and it be time we all became acquainted in a more friendly manner than that of yesterday.”

  “What be friendlier than a hangin’?” one of the men in back yelled out. The others laughed and Jeff found himself laughing with them.

  Graves continued, “Be that as it may, he is to be with us for a while and introductions are in order.”

  Crabtree stepped forward and said, “Ye be overstepping yer position, Mr. Graves, but yer thought be sound. Men, gather ‘round!” The men formed a circle and Crabtree stepped forward and gr
asped Jeff by the shoulder. “I be Crabtree, the first officer and I command the ship when the Captain is indisposed. Graves ye already know. Harrison be the one with the bruises ye near killed yesterday…”

  “I was about to turn the tide on ‘im when ye all interfered!” Harrison yelled, to which everyone, including Harrison, laughed heartily.

  “As I was sayin’,” Crabtree continued, “That be Gerard, but we mostly call ‘im ‘Frenchy’. That there is Stevens, Pike, the other Stevens…”

  Jeff interrupted, “Do you call the two Stevens something different to distinguish them?”

  Crabtree rolled his eyes. “Aye! I jus’ told ye. That be Stevens and that be the other Stevens.”

  “You mean you actually call him ‘the other Stevens’?” Jeff asked with some amusement.

  “Aye! What else would we call ‘im?”

  “Of course. Silly of me. Please continue.” Jeff replied.

  Crabtree quickly ran through the names of the remaining 20 or so men. “Other than Robinson in the galley and the Captain, that be the crew. Now that the introductions be complete, everyone back to work!” Crabtree boomed. The men separated and quickly resumed their chores.

  From the other end of the deck, Captain Coxen emerged from his cabin and called out, “Mr. Greene, please join me. Robinson will be delivering food in short order.” Jeff walked toward the cabin and remembered his bottle of water cooling by the rail. He reached down and carefully tapped the bottle with his finger tips to check the temperature. It was still quite warm, but cool enough to handle. He picked it up and carried it with him into the cabin, where the Captain was already seated at the table. “Rum at this hour! Good, you’re already developing a tolerance!” the Captain said, gesturing at the bottle.

  “Oh, no, this is rainwater I boiled in the galley,” Jeff explained.

  The Captain had a look of disgust on his face. “Still insisting on water, eh? Very well, suit yourself. I will be having some grog with lime. You should have some as well so that you don’t succumb to the scurvy.”

  Jeff took a small taste of his water. It was still quite warm and tasted like a mixture of mud and spoiled lettuce, but it was drinkable – sort of. “Perhaps I could add some lime juice to my water?”

  “As you wish,” the Captain nodded.

  There was a knock on the cabin door. “Enter,” the Captain beckoned. Robinson entered carrying a platter of breadnuts, fruit and flatbread and a large pewter pitcher and set them on the table. “Very good, Mr. Robinson. Please bring some limes for Mr.Greene’s water.”

  “Aye, Captain. Will you be needing anything else?”

  “No, that should suffice.”

  “Very good, Captain. I shall return with some limes.”

  Robinson departed and the Captain grabbed a couple of breadnuts and popped one in his mouth. “Do try the breadnuts, Mr. Greene, they are delicious.” Jeff grabbed a breadnut and popped it in his mouth. It was somewhat like a large, soft peanut.

  “That is good,” Jeff agreed.

  Robinson returned with a small bowl with some lime quarters. Jeff and the Captain thanked her and she quickly departed. Jeff squeezed some lime into his water bottle and swirled it around. The lime juice did definitely help the taste of the water. He sampled some of the flatbread that had been made with bread nut meal and was pleasantly surprised at how tasty it was. “This is really good!”

  “Aye,” the Captain agreed, “Robinson does remarkable things with the limited ingredients at hand.”

  All of the food on the platter was actually quite good and after squeezing the last of the lime wedges into his water, even it tasted relatively good.

  “I trust you slept well last night, Mr. Greene.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Good. Today will be a busy day. When the crew finishes the morning chores, I will take you to Port Royal. We will be making a few trips in the longboats to gather supplies and once that is done, we shall visit the local tavern for some refreshments and entertainment. You will see much of the town, not that there is much to see, and that should give you a means to help you decide whether to stay ashore or travel with us.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Jeff said.

  “Now, Mr. Greene, I should warn you about Port Royal. It may not seem dangerous, but I can assure you that it is. I know that you are quite capable of defending yourself, just do not let your guard down.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeff nodded.

  The men finished the food and the Captain stood up and pulled out his pipe box. “A smoke, Mr. Greene?”

  “No th… Well, sure, why not, I should practice so I don’t cough up a lung if I have to do it later.”

  The Captain smiled, “Very good, Mr. Greene. You are already fitting in!” The Captain prepared the pipes and handed one to Jeff. “Remember, suck the smoke in slowly and hold it in your mouth,” Coxen said as he lit a splint and held it to his pipe before passing it to Jeff. Jeff followed suit and managed to light his own pipe without choking. “Well done!” the Captain said with approval.

  As the men smoked, Jeff asked, “Captain, please forgive my ignorance, but are you a privateer or a pirate?”

  “There really is no difference but a document of authorization ‘twixt the two, Mr. Greene. I have been both at one time or another. Currently I hold documents of authorization as a privateer for the crown, though in truth they were actually granted to another.”

  “You stole someone else’s privateering documents?” Jeff asked with amusement.

  “I prefer to say that I liberated them. After all, he wasn’t going to be using them - he was dead!”

  “You killed him!?” Jeff exclaimed.

  “No, nothing like that. Though in my younger days, such deeds were not beneath me. But Captain Clarke and I were actually good friends. We were enjoying some drink and wenches at the tavern one evening when he simply fell over dead. I took his corpse back to his ship and while there I liberated a few items, including his privateering documents. He would have wanted me to have them, I’m certain,” the Captain said with a smile and a wink.

  “No doubt,” Jeff laughed in agreement.

  “Since you have brought it up, Mr. Greene, I should explain what you may expect if you stay with us when we sail. Over the next few months, I, along with a few other of my brethren, shall be raiding several Spanish settlements along the coast. Most are not well defended, but there is always the risk of Spanish warships showing up at the least opportune moment. If you choose to stay on the Wandering Wench you would not be expected to join my raiding parties, so you would not be at risk from that, but if the ship were to be captured, you would no doubt be sentenced to death with myself and the rest of the crew.”

  “I understand, Captain. I will factor that into my decision.”

  “Speaking of which,” Coxen replied, “I will need your answer before sundown tomorrow, for we sail at dawn the next day. You are welcome to leave in your canoe, but if you choose to do so, you will want to go ashore some distance from Port Royal and hide it in order to avoid questions. So, you will want to leave yourself sufficient daylight to go ashore and make it to town before dark.”

  “Understood,” Jeff nodded. “Do you have any suggestions on how I might make some money to get me started if I do stay in Port Royal?”

  “Worry not, Mr. Greene, if you decide to stay, I shall give you an initial stake that should serve until you can find employment.”

  “Oh, no Captain, I can’t do that. I wouldn’t feel right about taking your money…” Jeff began.

  Coxen held up his hand, “Believe me Mr. Greene, the entertainment you have provided is well worth it, not to mention the fact that you will be earning your keep tomorrow when you assist the crew in taking on supplies. Besides, you really have no choice but to accept at least a small amount of charity, given your cir
cumstances. And believe me, it will be a SMALL amount of charity. I’m not known for my generosity!” the Captain said, erupting in laughter.

  “All right then. Thank you, Captain,” Jeff said, joining in the laughter.

  As the men’s laughs subsided, there came a knock at the door. “Enter!” the Captain shouted.

  Crabtree stepped into the cabin and said, “The men are nearly done with the chores, sir. Shall I have them ready the longboats for Port Royal?”

  “Aye, Mr. Crabtree. For the landing party, you, Mr. Graves, Mr. Robinson, Mr. Stevens, and the other Mr. Stevens should stand ready. Mr. Harrison will be in command of the ship in our absence. Notify me when we are ready to shove-off.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Crabtree replied before departing. “Well, Mr. Greene, if there is anything you wish to do before we depart, you should do it now.”

  “Yes, there is something I should attend to, if you’ll excuse me, Captain.”

  “By all means,” the Captain replied with a wave of his hand.

  Jeff arose and exited the cabin. He quickly turned to the right and headed for the bucket as the morning’s meal of fruit and fiber was starting to have the expected effect on his bowels. He tried not to look at the bucket too closely as he positioned himself above it and dropped his pants. Steadying himself with his arm grasping the rail as he squatted, he managed to accomplish the task without incident. It was then it occurred to him that there was no such thing as toilet paper. He had thought that the odor of the crew was simply due to a lack of bathing, but now he realized that there was another reason why everyone smelled so bad – now including him! Perhaps he could manage a quick swim later so at least he wouldn’t disgust himself. He pulled himself to his feet and secured his pants before dumping and rinsing the bucket.

  Task completed, he made his way to the far end of the deck where the crew was bringing the longboats alongside and lowering the cargo net over the side of the hull. Not knowing exactly what he should do, if anything, Jeff stood out of the way. Crabtree was bent over the rail securing the longboats and looked up at him. “Make yourself useful and inform the Captain that we be ready to shove off.”

  Jeff nodded and approached the Captain’s door. Before he could knock, Coxen opened the door and stepped out. “I trust we are ready, Mr. Greene.”

  “Yes, Captain.” “Very good.” The two men walked back across the deck. “Mr. Greene, Mr. Robinson, and Mr. Graves, you are with me. Mr. Crabtree, Mr. Stevens, and the other Mr. Stevens you shall follow in the second boat.

  “Aye, Captain,” the men replied in unison.

  The Captain climbed down the cargo net into the bow of the first longboat. Graves and Robinson motioned for Jeff to go next. As he made it into the boat, the Captain instructed, “You shall ride in the bow, Graves and Robinson shall row, and I shall steer.” Jeff took his place in the bow of the boat as Graves and Robinson climbed in and took their positions at the oars. The men quickly took their positions in the second boat and both boats pushed off from the ship.