Pirates of the Storm: Stranded In Time Book 1

by Fletcher Best

  Chapter 8: Setting Sail

  Jeff awakened to the sounds of the crew arising and making their way onto deck. Jenny was already gone and Jeff stiffly pulled himself upright. He was very sore from the evening’s adventures and he stretched a little before pulling on a shirt and heading out on deck. It was still quite dark, but there was a faint line of orange and red sitting low in the sky signaling the approach of sunrise. Captain Coxen was standing on the deck of the bridge, supervising the preparations. He spotted Jeff and called to him. Jeff walked over and climbed the steps to the bridge. “Good morning, Mr. Greene,” the Captain greeted him. “We shall soon see how well your plan is going to work, but I trust it will be a success.”

  Jeff nodded, “I know it will work, Captain. They can’t chase us if they can’t steer and they’ll need men who can swim to have any chance of fixing the problem.”

  “Aye,” the Captain nodded, “and men who can swim are a rarity in this age. Robinson is preparing some food to sustain the men for the sail. You should go get some. We’ll be setting sail within the hour.”

  “Yes, Captain. I’ll do that.” Jeff made his way down to the galley.

  Graves and the other Stevens were coming out as he reached the doorway. Graves spoke up, “Mr. Greene! Robinson told us ye fought the shark with yer bare hands while ‘e stabbed it!”

  “I guess you could say that,” Jeff agreed. “I was mostly just holding on to it as hard as I could to keep it from biting me.”

  “All the same. Good on ye mate!” Graves said enthusiastically.

  “Aye!” agreed the other Stevens as the two continued on their way to the deck.

  Jenny had heard the exchange and greeted Jeff at the door. She looked past him to make sure the coast was clear before grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him passionately. As she broke the embrace, Jeff said. “Good morning to you too!” She smiled and wiped some of her ash and grease face paint from around his mouth before turning and leading him into the galley and started fixing him a plate of nuts, flatbread, and dried fish.

  “Eat well,” she said, handing him the plate. Jeff suddenly realized how hungry he was and he eagerly gulped down the food.

  “Thanks! I needed this,” he said with a smile.

  “Anything for the brave shark fighter,” she said turning back to her pots as a few more members of the crew filed into the small galley.

  Crabtree poked his head through the door. “Finish up quickly men. We be pullin’ anchor soon.”

  “Aye!” they acknowledged as Jenny handed them plates of food.

  Jeff finished his plate and turned to Jenny and said, “Thank you for the meal Mr. Robinson. I’m not sure what good I’ll be on deck, but I feel like I should probably get up there.

  “Aye,” she replied. “I’ll be coming up myself soon. I want to see those Spaniards sitting dead in the water as we sail away!”

  “I’ll look for you on deck then,” Jeff said with a nod as he exited.

  As he stepped out on deck, the Captain shouted to him, “Join me, Mr. Greene.” Jeff made his way to the bridge as the Captain called down to Crabtree, “It’s time, Mr. Crabtree. Haul anchor and prepare to unfurl the sails!”

  Crabtree repeated the order to the men, “Haul anchor and prepare to unfurl the sails!”

  “Aye!” a chorus of voices yelled back from all over the ship. The timbers of the ship groaned slightly as a group of men turned the anchor windlass below deck and the Wandering Wench crept forward. Soon the anchor pulled free from the bottom and as the men finished securing it, other crewmen unfurled the sails and the Captain took hold of the wheel.

  As the wind caught the sails, Jeff spotted Robinson emerging onto the deck. She and several other members of the crew stood at the rail and watched to see what the Spanish ships would do. The Captain looked at Jeff and smiled, “The moment of truth, Mr.Greene!” Jeff looked out at the 4 Spanish ships and could see frenzied activity on their decks as they prepared to pursue the Wandering Wench. The closest ship was weighing anchor and quickly unfurled its sails. Just as quickly Jeff could hear the distant shouts on the deck as the ship’s crew realized that they had no steering. In a moment, they were once again furling their sales and dropping anchor.

  “Huzzah!” yelled Crabtree from the fore deck.

  “Well done, Mr. Greene!” Captain Coxen said, slapping him on the back. The second Spanish ship and then the third quickly followed the same sequence as the first ship and were now dead in the water as well. By now the crew was all cheering loudly and they watched in anticipation as the fourth ship attempted to set sail. But the fourth ship unfurled its sails and continued underway. The crew fell silent as the Spanish ship picked up speed and Jeff’s heart sank with the knowledge that the sabotage had somehow failed. “One ship to fight is far better than four, Mr. Greene,” the Captain reassured him.

  But Jeff’s discouragement was short-lived. In a few moments, although it was heading in their general direction, the Spanish ship was rapidly approaching the edge of the reef. Coxen laughed loudly. “The fool is trying to chase us without a rudder!” Jeff watched as a moment later the Spanish ship came to an abrupt stop and the sounds of wood cracking and men yelling carried across the water.

  “Huzzah!” cried out Crabtree once more.

  “Huzzah!” yelled out the rest of the crew, laughing and smiling.

  Coxen once again clapped Jeff on the back as he called down to the deck, “Very good work, Mr. Robinson! Mr. Crabtree, take a position on the bow and Mr. Pike, get to the crow’s nest and find me a cut!”

  “Aye, Captain!” the men acknowledged.

  Coxen became quiet as he focused on steering the ship through the treacherous reef. Crabtree and Pike were both signaling a course and the Captain followed their direction. Soon they found their way through a narrow channel in the reef and were headed out to open water. Coxen took a deep breath and turned to Jeff, “Now that we’re clear, Mr. Greene, let me congratulate you once again for your fine work on those ships! I admit I initially had my doubts that it would work, but you have saved us from what would have been a brutal fight and possibly would have been the end of us all.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Jeff smiled with satisfaction.

  The Captain continued, “Now, we are headed to join with some of my fellow Captains of the Brethren of the Coast to sack a few Spanish settlements to the South. Usually we do not encounter any substantial resistance, but there are the occasional casualties. As the ship’s surgeon, you will need to familiarize yourself with the medicine box. Find Mr. Graves and he will take you to it.”

  “Yes Captain,” Jeff agreed and he headed down the steps to the main deck. He did not see Graves anywhere, so he headed below deck. Jeff soon found Graves in the cargo hold with several other men who were moving the cargo around to make more room. “Mr. Graves, the Captain instructed me to find you and have you show me the medicine box.”

  “Aye, Mr. Greene,” Graves said, looking somewhat relieved to have a break from the heavy lifting.

  Jeff followed Graves into a small cabin off the main crew quarters. As Graves turned up the lantern, Jeff could see that the walls, floor, and tall wooden table in the center of the room were all covered with splatters of various types of grime, much of which he figured must be blood. Graves pulled the medicine box from under the table and set it on the top. “Here it be,” Graves said. “Will ye be needin’ anything else, Mr. Greene?”

  “No, Mr. Graves. This should do.”

  “Very well, then,” Graves said with a nod. “I best be getting’ back to work in the hold before Crabtree checks up on me.” Graves said as he turned to leave.

  Jeff looked at the medicine box. It too was covered with various splashes of unknown liquids and what he suspected were bodily fluids. He tried not to think about what diseases were still active on the box and on the surfaces of the r
oom. Jeff carefully opened the medicine box. A piece of paper was glued to the inside of the top of the box which had a list of the various medicines and what they were used for. While there was a relatively large number of bottles, Jeff quickly realized that some of the more useful and important remedies had empty bottles or the bottles were missing altogether. The worst part was that there did not appear to be any medicines left that could be used as antiseptics or antibiotics.

  Given that the crew was about to embark on some potentially dangerous shore raids, Jeff knew that lacking such medications could be disastrous. He decided that he should notify the Captain and made his way back up to the bridge. “Ah, Mr. Greene, I trust that Mr. Graves delivered the medicine box to you.”

  “Yes, Captain, but there is a problem. There are no medicines for tending wounds left in the box. If any of the crew gets injured, there’s a good chance they could get septic and die from what would otherwise be survivable.”

  “Hmmm. I feared as much,” Coxen nodded. I had hoped that our recent string of deaths was simply a matter of Graves’ incompetence. But it would seem that it goes beyond that. Unfortunately, Mr. Greene, we are nowhere near any port where we can replenish the medicine box. Port Royal in Jamaica would be the closest, but we will not be going anywhere near there for quite some time. You will simply need to improvise when needed.”

  “Improvise. Right. I’ll see what I can do,” Jeff said as he departed for the medical cabin.

  He once again looked in the medicine box and confirmed his earlier assessment. There were no antiseptics nor antibiotics left. He looked around the cabin and realized that one priority was going to be cleaning the room to try to minimize the potential for infection. But first, he needed to figure out what else was available onboard that he could use for disinfection if it became necessary. From his water purification project, he knew that limes were available, but he wasn’t sure how good lime juice by itself would work on an open wound.

  He made his way to the galley, where Jenny was cleaning up from the morning meal. She greeted him with a smile, “Hello, Mr. Greene! That was quite fine work we did on those Spanish ships, eh?” She looked past him to make sure nobody else was there before pulling him toward her and kissing him. As she stepped back, she carefully wiped away the grime from her face that had passed to his. “I am very much looking forward to the next opportunity we have to be alone together,” she said as she winked at him.

  “As am I,” Jeff smiled. Though at first glance, she still looked very much like a man, Jeff could now easily see the beauty beneath the disguise and he found himself becoming quite fond of ‘Mr. Robinson’.

  “So, what can I do for you, Mr. Greene?”

  “I was going through the medicine box and discovered that we are lacking in some important items. The Captain has told me to improvise if needed, and I am here to check our supply of things that might serve the purpose. I know we have limes and we have onions because there were some in the fish stew the other night.”

  “Aye,” Jenny nodded, “We have ample supplies of both.”

  “Do we also have garlic?” Jeff asked.

  “Aye,” she replied.

  “Good. They aren’t actual antibiotics, but they’re better than nothing.”

  “Antibi.. What?” Jenny said with an arched eyebrow.

  “Antibiotics. Medicine for infection… sepsis,” he answered.

  “Oh,” she said, still looking somewhat doubtful.

  “Also, may I have some ash from the fire pit?”

  “Yes, but may I ask for what purpose? Surely you don’t plan on copying my beauty treatment,” she said, gesturing at her face and giggling.

  “No, although it is a good look on you,” he said with a laugh. “I’m going to clean the surgeon’s cabin and I want the ash to use as a disinfectant.”

  Robinson looked puzzled. “You’re welcome to take as much ash as you like, but I don’t see how you can clean with something that is dirty.”

  “Ash will kill the bacteria that cause infection,” Jeff explained.

  “If you say so, but it seems to me that you will just be making a mess.”

  “It may very well wind up looking that way, but better to have ash all over the place than the blood and guts that are there now,” Jeff said, dreading the project ahead.

  Jenny picked up a small bucket and scooped some ash into it. “Is this enough?”

  “That should be plenty to start,” Jeff nodded. Once again, Jenny looked behind him to make sure they were not seen before pulling his head to hers and kissing him as she handed him the bucket of ash. “Thank you, Mr. Robinson,” Jeff said as he departed.

  Jeff dropped off the bucket of ash in the surgeon’s cabin before setting off to collect a bucket of water, a brush, and a mop. He headed out onto deck and approached Crabtree who was supervising the various activities of the crew. “Mr. Crabtree, I am in need of a brush and a mop and bucket to clean the surgeon’s cabin.”

  Crabtree looked at him blankly. “Surgeon’s cabin?”

  “That room where injured men get medical treatment.”

  Crabtree nodded, “Aye, we be callin’ it Graves’ butcher shop! Ye can take that mop and bucket there. A brush ye can find in the cargo hold.” Jeff filled the bucket with seawater before heading below deck. He found a brush in the cargo hold and dropped it in the bucket as he headed back to the surgeon’s cabin.

  For the next few hours, he sprinkled ash and seawater on every surface and scrubbed it into the wood with the brush. Finally, he mopped up the excess water and ash. By the time he was done, the room looked just as dingy as when he started, but the staining of the surfaces was now simply the gray color of the ash, rather than the reddish-brown of dried blood. His arms and back were aching from the work, but Jeff knew that his efforts would probably save lives if anyone needed any major treatment in that cabin. He returned the brush to the cargo hold and carried the mop and bucket back out to where he had found them on deck. He set them down and stretched his back.

  Jeff realized he was quite hungry and headed into the galley. Robinson was in the midst of preparing a large pot of stew for dinner and smiled at him as he entered. “Did you make good use of the ashes?” she asked.

  “Yes, I think so,” Jeff replied. “I was hoping to get a bite to eat.”

  “Help yourself to coconuts or fruit. There’s also a platter of breadnut flatbread cooling over there. There will be turtle stew tonight if you leave me alone so I can finish making it.”

  “All right, I can take a hint,” Jeff smiled as he picked up a banana and some flatbread. He grabbed a knife from the wall and whacked the top off a coconut to drink and then gathered his food and headed topside. He plopped down on a corner of the deck out of the way of the crew and ate quickly. After a few minutes, he could feel some energy returning, but he was feeling quite stiff, so he stood up to stretch.

  He looked out over the rail and could see that now the ship was well out into the open water. The men who were not actively manning the sails were scattered about the deck preparing their swords and flintlocks for the coming raids. He looked up at the wheel and the Captain beckoned him. As Jeff climbed the steps to the helm, the Captain greeted him. “I trust you have been occupying your time fruitfully, Mr. Greene?”

  “Yes, Captain. I have cleaned the surgeon’s cabin and have found some options for fighting infection should any injuries occur.”

  “Very good,” the Captain acknowledged. “It is my hope that your services as ship’s surgeon will not be needed. Most often the settlements we raid put up little resistance. They usually have a small contingent of soldiers who are among the least of the Spanish military and the settlers know we are mostly after the payroll, weapons, and any other valuables we find in the governors’ residences. Most are happy to give us what we want and few are foolish enough to fight us. Those who are, rarel
y draw any of our blood.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Captain,” Jeff said, “Speaking of drawing blood, while I am able to fight reasonably well, I have no experience with your swords or firearms. I was thinking it might be wise to at least learn the basics of the sword techniques of this era and how to load and fire a flintlock.”

  “Aye,” the Captain nodded. “That is sound thinking, Mr. Greene. Though as ship’s surgeon, you shall remain on the ship during the raids, there might come a time when you would be called upon to help defend the ship. Mr. Harrison has instructed many of the crew in swordplay and he is quite good with the flintlocks as well. He does not appear to be busy…”

  Jeff interrupted nervously, “With all due respect Captain, given my history with Mr. Harrison, is it really a good idea for me to be in close proximity to him with blades and guns?”

  The Captain laughed. “Mr. Greene, I am sure that Mr. Harrison does have some residual ill feelings toward you, but you are now a member of the crew. As such, he would never intentionally bring severe harm to you. You may have some need of your own medicines before your lessons are through, but in my experience, a little blood can accelerate the learning process.”

  “Great!” Jeff said with mock enthusiasm.

  The Captain called down to the deck, “Mr. Harrison!”

  “Aye, Captain?” he said as he stood and walked toward the helm.

  “Mr. Harrison, Mr. Greene here is in need of some training with the sword and guns. Would you do the honors?”

  “Aye, Captain. It would be me pleasure,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  “Very good, you shall begin immediately. We shall need Mr. Greene to be prepared when we meet up with the Brethren.”

  “Aye, Captain!” Harrison replied.

  “Oh, and Mr. Harrison,” the Captain added, “I believe it goes without saying, but we shall need Mr. Greene to have all of his limbs and be able-bodied when we meet up with the Brethren.”

  “Aye… Do ye include fingers when ye say limbs, Captain?”

  The Captain chuckled, “Yes, Mr. Harrison, I was including fingers - the ship’s surgeon needs his fingers.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Harrison replied with a hint of disappointment.

  Coxen turned to Jeff, “Well, Mr. Greene, Mr. Harrison awaits. Fair thee well. Hopefully I will see you at dinner.”

  “Yes, well, until dinner then,” Jeff said with some apprehension as he headed to the main deck.

  Harrison was waiting for Jeff when he made it to the center of the deck and tossed him a sword. Jeff grabbed for the handle but missed and managed to just barely slide his foot out of the way as the tip of the blade imbedded itself in the deck. Jeff looked angrily at Harrison who shrugged his shoulders and said, “Captain not say nothin’ ‘bout toes, did ‘e?” Jeff took a deep breath and grabbed ahold of the sword, wrenching it free from the deck. “Now, Mr. Greene, time for ye to become a swordsman!” Harrison said with more than a little glee.

  Jeff adjusted his grip on the sword as Harrison raised his and stepped forward with an overhand swing. Jeff blocked the slice and Harrison stepped back. “Very good, Mr. Greene! You have passed lesson one. Now for lesson two…” Harrison suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs and ran at Jeff, swinging the sword wildly. Jeff managed to deflect the first three blows of Harrison’s sword, but on the fourth, the tip of the blade nicked the tip of his nose. Harrison ceased his attack. “Not bad for a greenie, but ye shall need to do better if ye wish to keep yer head!” A thin trickle of blood ran from Jeff’s nose and he could taste it on his lips. He wiped the blood from his face on his sleeve. The wound didn’t hurt that much, but he knew if it had been a real fight without Harrison controlling his attack, he’d probably be dead. “Now,” Harrison said, “I’ll show ye the right way to handle yer blade…” The pirate set down his sword and stepped behind Jeff, grasping the wrist of his sword arm. “Like this,” Harrison said, moving Jeff’s arms through a series of motions.

  After a few minutes of moving him through the paces, Harrison called Graves over. “Mr.Graves, give us yer best attack and I shall assist Mr. Greene with defense.” Graves nodded, pulled his flintlock and took aim at Jeff and Harrison. “No! Graves, ye donkey!” Harrison yelled, “Your best SWORD attack!”

  “Aye!” Graves acknowledged, lowering the gun. He slipped the flintlock in his belt and drew his sword. Graves advanced, swinging his sword.

  Harrison deftly guided Jeff’s arm and easily warded off a flurry of slices. “Good!” “That will be all Mr. Graves. Mr. Pike, take over for Graves.” Pike stepped forward and drew his sword. Once again, with Harrison guiding his arm, Jeff was able to successfully defend himself. The process was repeated with several more members of the crew, and gradually Jeff was taking over the control of his arm from Harrison. Finally, Harrison stepped away altogether and Jeff defended against a few more members of the crew before Harrison called a halt. “Very good, Mr. Greene! Ye be ready for the next step. Wait here.”

  Harrison disappeared below deck as Jeff caught his breath. His arm was getting tired and sore from the sword play, but he was pleased with his progress. Harrison soon returned with a strip of cloth and a mop. He tied the strip of cloth to the end of the mop and held it out in front of him with the cloth hanging a few feet in front of Jeff’s face. “Now, Mr. Greene, slice the cloth.” Jeff raised his sword and swung at the cloth, but Harrison moved it away just in time and he missed it completely. “Ye did not think I be makin’ it that easy did ye?” Harrison smiled.

  “I was kind of hoping you would,” Jeff replied.

  He once again readied the sword and faked a swing. Harrison was not fooled and didn’t even twitch. Jeff concentrated and quickly swung at the cloth but narrowly missed it as once again Harrison was too quick. Jeff would swing and miss several more times but each time he was a little faster and more direct with his movements. He finally succeeded in slicing a tiny fragment from the end of the cloth strip and his success was greeted with the cheers of several members of the crew who had been watching.

  “Huzzah, Mr. Greene!” Crabtree exclaimed. “You be the first to strike the cloth in quite some time.”

  “Well done!” Captain Coxen called down from the bridge. “We might make a pirate of you yet, Mr. Greene!”

  Harrison nodded his approval at Jeff and proceeded to hold the cloth strip, now slightly shorter, in front of him again. “Ye still be needin’ some practice,” Harrison said. Jeff nodded his agreement and proceeded with his training. He succeeded in slicing through the cloth a few more times over the next 10 minutes or so, but he had reached a point where he could barely hold the sword up any longer. Harrison finally put down the mop and relieved Jeff of the sword.

  He then led Jeff over to the rail of the ship and pulled his pistol from his belt. “Now ye need to know how to load and shoot,” Harrison said as he pulled a pouch from his belt. Harrison demonstrated how to load the pistol and then handed it to Jeff. “Pull back the hammer and she be ready to fire.” Jeff cocked the weapon and pointed it out at the water. “Go ahead and fire so ye get the feel ‘o it,” Harrison said. Jeff extended his arm and squeezed the trigger. The noise of the gun was deafening and he felt a shower of small stings on his arm as tiny bits of burning gunpowder landed on his skin. He had never fired a modern handgun, so he really didn’t have a basis of comparison, but the flintlock seemed to him to have a rather large kick. He saw the splash where the shot hit and was somewhat surprised by its location.

  Though a novice gunman, he realized right away that the lack of accuracy with this weapon was as much due to its limitations as due to his own lack of skill. “What type of reliable range do you get with one of these?” Jeff asked Harrison.

  “It be good for across the deck o’ a ship like this. Maybe a bit further with some luck. Now, ye load it as I showed ye.” Jeff set to work loadi
ng the weapon as Harrison stepped away. He returned with a small piece of scrap wood as Jeff completed the loading process. “Ye ready fer a target?”

  “Yes,” Jeff replied.

  Harrison tossed the piece of wood over the rail. “Fire at will,” he said to Jeff. Jeff cocked the weapon and took aim as best he could as the ship was quickly moving away from the piece of wood. He fired and saw the shot strike the water about 6 inches from the target. “Good enough,” Harrison nodded with approval. “That concludes yer training fer today, Mr. Greene. Come with me and I shall show ye the armory so ye can choose a sword o’ yer own.”

  Jeff followed Harrison below deck and into the cargo hold. Just inside the door was an ornate carved-wood armoire that looked more like it should be in a women’s boutique than on board a pirate ship. Harrison swung open the doors to reveal several swords hanging from hooks. “Choose,” Harrison said. Jeff looked at the swords and chose one similar in style to the one he’d been practicing with all day. As he held it, he could tell it was indeed very similar to his training sword and decided it was his best option. “A fine sword,” Harrison nodded.

  “Ye won’t be needin’ to carry a pistol, but if ye ever need to defend the ship, ye can find the guns here,” the pirate said, sliding open the top drawer in the base of the armoire. Several pistols of varying sizes were lying in the drawer wrapped in greasy rags along with several pouches of powder and ammunition. “All o’ the guns be loaded and ready to fire except for the flint. There’s additional powder and shot in the bottom drawer and there are rifles in this box,” Harrison said leaning over a long wooden box, opening it briefly to display the guns. “Leave the long guns for the better marksmen unless ye be the last line o’ defense. They load the same as the pistols, but ye use the larger powder horns,” he said pulling a rifle from the box. Harrison showed Jeff the procedure for loading the rifle and then set the gun back in the box and closed the lid. “Ye savvy?”

  “Yes,” Jeff said nodding.

  “Good. Practice with yer sword as often as ye can. Ye can call on any member o’ the crew when they not be otherwise busy.”

  Jeff rubbed his shoulder which was now aching pretty badly from all the day’s activity. “Yer arm be hurtin’?” Harrison asked.

  “Yes, it’s just sore from all the swordplay,” Jeff replied. Harrison beckoned Jeff to follow him and lead him into the crew’s quarters. Harrison walked over to his bunk and slid a wooden box from underneath it. He pulled out a small metal canister and opened it. Immediately a strong scent filled the air that smelled like spices mixed with manure. Jeff had grown accustomed to the ever present stench of his surroundings, but this took things to a whole new level.

  Before Jeff could say anything, Harrison stuck his hand in the canister and then slid it under the collar of Jeff’s shirt and began massaging the foul smelling salve into his shoulder. Jeff’s skin quickly became numb and tingly as Harrison explained, “Got this in Jamaica. Natives make it and say it cure whatever ails ye.”

  “Thanks,” Jeff said, trying not to gag from the smell, “But it’s my other shoulder that hurts!”

  Harrison stopped rubbing and nodded. “Aye!” he said shaking his head at himself and sliding his hand in the canister once more. He applied the salve to the correct shoulder this time, and Jeff’s shoulder started to ease almost immediately. The smell was awful, but at least the stuff worked, which was more than he could say for a lot of things he had tried in his life.

  The two men headed back out on deck. By now the sun was starting to drop in the sky. Jeff looked to the helm and saw that Crabtree had relieved the Captain from the wheel. Just then, the Captain stepped out of his cabin. “Ah, Mr. Greene, do join me. Mr. Robinson shall be serving the evening meal shortly.”

  Jeff thanked Harrison for his lessons and his salve and walked over to the Captain. “Good God, man!” the Captain exclaimed. “Don’t tell me… Mr. Harrison’s healing salve. I should ban him from ever bringing that vile substance on this ship again!”

  Jeff laughed, “Yes, it smells horrible, but I must say it has made my shoulder feel a lot better.”

  “Very well, do come in, but please don’t sit too close,” the Captain said with a chuckle.

  The two men took their seats at the table. “Tomorrow, Mr. Greene, we shall meet up with two of our partner ships in the Brethren of the Coast and we shall prepare for our first raid on a Spanish settlement known as Cabra Cachonda. The governor of the settlement is a Spanish noble who has a reputation for enjoying the finer things in life and we intend to enjoy them as well. Word is that the settlers make some rather fine rum and the men of the garrison there are rather fond of it, so they are not the best guards. With a little luck, we should be able to get in and out without blood on either side.”

  Jeff nodded, “It’s interesting to me that you seem to avoid violence when you can, Captain. In my day, the reputation of pirates is that they were bloodthirsty murderers and rapists.”

  “Aye,” Coxen nodded. “There certainly are those in my profession who have a taste for blood and mayhem. In my younger days, I did as well. But I see myself as a businessman now. Violence is sometimes necessary, but it reduces profits. Those who rape and pillage inevitably gain a reputation for such and they meet much more resistance from the settlers themselves than we do. We have a reputation for attacking only the governors and their military guards. We avoid harming or stealing from the settlers for the most part, so they do not fight us. Those who pillage indiscriminately are fools. The settlers have little to take besides perhaps their women, but friendly wenches are readily available in any port. It makes no sense to provoke the settlers to fight when there is so little for us to gain by it.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Jeff agreed.

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” the Captain responded.

  Robinson came in carrying a pot of stew and eating utensils for the two men. As she set the food on the table, she winced. “Oh no! Harrison’s salve?” she asked, holding her nose.

  “Aye,” the Captain nodded.

  “Will you be moving to a bunk not so close to mine tonight, Mr. Greene?” she asked hopefully.

  “Aww!” Jeff exclaimed. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

  “You I like,” she replied, “But that horrid salve will quickly make me forget that!”

  “I’ll try to get at least most of it off before I bunk down tonight,” Jeff said.

  “See that you do!” Robinson exclaimed nasally, still holding her nose as she exited the cabin.

  “So turtle stew, eh?” Jeff said eyeing the pot with some reservation.

  “It is one of Robinson’s specialties,” said Coxen as he ladled some into his bowl.

  “It just seems wrong to be eating sea turtle. They’re an endangered species in my time,” Jeff explained.

  “Well, Mr. Greene, they are plentiful now and they make for a splendid stew. Try some!”

  Jeff served himself a bowl and cautiously took a bite. “I have to admit it is pretty good.”

  The two men ate hungrily and washed the stew down with mugs of rum before the Captain brought out his pipes for a smoke. Jeff was now comfortable with the process and although he didn’t really enjoy the taste of the smoke, on this occasion the smell of it was a welcome cover up for the smell of Harrison’s salve. The Captain shared a few tales of previous raids as they smoked, and although the thought of getting back to his own time was always in the back of his mind, Jeff was thankful to have met up with the Captain and his crew. As they finished their pipes, the Captain turned to Jeff and said, “I should take my leave of you now, Mr. Greene. I need to catch a few winks of sleep before I relieve Mr. Crabtree at the wheel.”

  Jeff nodded and stood up. “Until tomorrow, then, Captain. Good night.”

  “Good night, Mr. Greene.”

  Jeff stepped out on t
he deck and a cool breeze hit his face. It was now fully dark and for a moment Jeff stared up at the moon and stars that shone bright in the blackness. “I have a gift for you, Mr. Greene,” Jenny said as she approached with a bucket and rag in hand. “Actually it’s more of a gift for me and the rest of the crew,” she said, handing him the bucket.

  Jeff chuckled as he accepted the gift. “I can take a hint. I’ll wash off the salve.” Jeff pulled off his shirt and noticed the blood on it from where he had wiped his face after Harrison’s sword lesson. As he dipped the rag in the water, Jeff said, “Could I trouble you for a slice of lime? As much as I know it will hurt, I probably should try to disinfect the cut on my nose.” Jenny nodded.

  “I’ll get you a piece of lime while you scrub yourself. Do a good job won’t you?” she said as she headed for the galley.

  Jeff washed his shoulders thoroughly and although the salve had done its job, he was relieved to get rid of the smell. As he finished, Jenny returned. “Your lime, Mr. Greene.”

  “Thanks. Here goes nothing…” Jeff squeezed and rubbed the lime on his nose. “Ahhh!” he exclaimed as the acidic juice made its way into the cut. “Wow! That sucks even worse than I thought it would!”

  “Sucks?” Jenny inquired.

  “That’s an expression from my time. It means it’s unpleasant.”

  Jenny looked around and leaned toward him so as not to be overheard, “Strange, ‘sucks’ means something quite different in our time. Perhaps sometime I can demonstrate…”

  “That’s a different kind of suck!” Jeff replied in a hushed tone, “And you’re a terrible tease!”

  “Actually, I rather think I’m quite a good tease,” Jenny whispered before stepping back. “That’s better then,” she said resuming her normal voice. “We’ll all sleep better without that foul salve stinking up the cabin,” she said before taking back the bucket and rag and departing below deck.

  Jeff leaned up against the rail and looked up at the sky once more. ‘Mr. Robinson’ definitely knew how to get under his skin. He didn’t want to get too attached to her in the event that he did get the opportunity to get back to his own time, but it was becoming difficult to keep his developing feelings for her at bay. After a few minutes of enjoying the night sky, he decided it was time to try to get some sleep. As he entered the cabin, many of the men were already in their bunks and several were snoring. Jenny was lying on her bunk facing his as he laid down. She smiled at him in the dim light and he smiled back. “Sleep well, Mr. Greene.”

  “Sleep well, Je… Robinson!”

  “Shut yer traps!” someone called out from the other side of the cabin.