Dillard

"Mister Tar!" I shouted. "We are being hailed by the Rakehell, again." "Give them a few minutes, an they'll be wavein' us off, again." He replied, "I'm sure it has somethin' t' do wit' that crazy Irishman, anyway." "Mayhaps we should weigh anchor and move a bit closer to the Rakehell," I offered. "I hav a better idea. Get that fish carcass off my ship; so, we can spear that shark. Unless ye'd rather swim over t' the Rakehell an tell them wot we're about." I weighed the choices I'd been offered, and chose to help spear the shark, rather then join him in the water.

"Oi, I smell like a fishmonger," I grumbled, as liquid from the fish carcass seeped into my clothing. As Smithe came along side me, he remarked, "Sire, I think that smell would offend the senses o' any self-respecting fishmonger." The fish was putrid and should have been thrown over board days ago. "Well lets hope it doesn't offend the senses of that shark," I gasped, as nausea swept over me.

After Mister Tar's brief banter with the captain of the Rackhell, Smithe brought the jolly boat back along side the ship, Mister Tar climbed back on board, and muttered something 'bout killing a certain shark. "Mister Tar, your clothes sir," I said, and attempted to hand him his garments. He thanked me, and asked if anyone had spotted the new ship, which was advancing on our Spanish neighbors? "Aye, sir. Since they were sailing away from us, we didn't make the call to general quarters," I offered, to which he replied, "Make it now! Fer they've hauled out their guns."

Jonesy and Mister Tar weren't breaking their formation, and were circling ever closer to the jolly boat, while remaining back to back. "Bless me, but they have nerve," I said to Stones. The big man just grinned, and nodded. As Jonesy was climbing in to the boat, a large dorsal fin broke the surface of the water. The white tip had returned, and was ready to try for one more man. "Get the captain out of the water, now!" I screeched. "That white tip has resurfaced, and he's headed this way.'" Smithe, and Jonesy, both grabbed on to Mister Tar and wrestled him into the boat; seconds later, the white tip passed within inches of the boat.

The first hour of the salvage was uneventful, as we waited for signals to hoist buckets, and lower barrels. "Over there!" I shouted, as a cork float popped up near a bucket line. "Haul away lads, an let's see what's in that bucket!" As the first bucket was hauled up on deck, the excitement began t' build. I heard a crewman complain, how light the bucket felt. I peered into the bucket, an remarked, "It's only one bar, but it's gold!" I turned the smallish, one pound bar, over in my hand. The roman numerals (XXIII:) looked like they had been etched into the bar yesterday. "This bar is marked twenty-three and a half carats. It's all most pure gold!" I said, excitedly.

I shouted down to Mister Tar, "Mister Tar, sir! We've dropped two barrels of air, near the diving barrel, as ordered. But it seems we've attracted a few curious sharks. Mayhaps, we should let them lose interest, before you take the plunge, sir." Mister Tar, replied that he was aware of the sharks, and that he'd take it on advisement. I noticed that he had Jonesy casting dried, and powdered, shark remains into the water. "Hopefully, those weren't the remains of any sharks these sharks knew," I said, to Stones. He didn't laugh, and offered to lower me into the water, before the captain.

A collective sigh could be heard, when the order to stand down was given. The much feared galleon was sailing away, without a shot being fired! I helped stow cannons, douse matches, and apply praise where it was warranted. It wasn't until I went back up on deck, that I realized the Spanish had left someone behind; I could tell from Mister Tar's expression, that he was less than sympathetic to he whom the Spanish had cast adrift. I walked over to where Smithe was standing, and said, "How long has he been treading water?" He replied, "Longer then I'd like, but it's the captn's call." "Permission to throw the man, a line, or a barrel." I shouted, to Mister Tar. Although, if it was indeed Spoons, I knew neither would likely be offered; I did hear Stones mutter something 'bout an anchor.

It was a pleasant dream, a beautiful woman was caressing me, and kissing me. She spoke my name, and even giggled as I kissed her back. Funny I'm not usually in my hammock during these kind of dreams? She smelled of flowers, alas as she turned to leave, I realized the dream was over. I sat up in my hammock, and saw Rosie ambling off in bare feet, towards the galley. "Wait!" I said, but she didn't even look back.

"Dillard.... Dillard.... Dilllll..ard!" I rolled out of my hammock, "What... who's calling me?" Smithe replied with louder snoring. "I must of been dreaming." I mumbled. I could of sworn the voice was female. If this was Silkie's idea of a joke, I'd have her hide! Then we'll see who's laughing, I thought, as I crawled back into my hammock.

Mister Tar had good reason to be concerned about the water stores. We had left the bay without venturing inland, and taking on fresh water. The water in the barrels on deck, were brackish; thankfully, the barrels below decks were better. Returning topside, I located Mister Tar, "Mister Tar, the water below decks is more palatable, sir." He nodded, an said we might have to ration it, if the Rakehell is wanting. I cast a glance at the ship that now dogged us, and said, "Aye, sir. We can accommodate them, if our stay in the Dry Tortugas is a brief one." He frowned, but agreed. We had all heard the stories, of those stranded without fresh water, not something any of us wanted to experience firsthand.

Jonesy was in the crows nest, whistling, and pointing in the direction of the Rakehell. "Mister Tar!" I shouted, "The Rakehell has lowered a Jolly boat, into the water, sir." I grabbed a spy glass, to get a better look. "They don't appear to be reefing any sails. They intend to launch under full sail?" I glanced up at Mister Tar, who looked as puzzled as I. It appeared that only two sailors, were climbing down into the small boat, too.

It was apparent that Mister Tar was less than glad to see Captain Ransom, and while I wasn't fond of her myself, I suspected that the she would try to follow us to the Dry Tortugas. "Mister Tar, may I have a word with you sir?" He nodded, so I said, "Sir, we all saw that you didn't roll out the red carpet for the captain, of the Rakehell. And I'm the last one to defend her actions, but I believe her ship may not be as sea worthy, as it appears."

Mister Tar retired to his cabin; so, I approached Stones before retiring myself. I glanced at the ship, we all believed to be the Rakehell, and said, "I think even if we were sailing towards the Spanish Armada, she'd follow." I believe Stones chuckled. "You know," I continued, "She left us in Havana, and she'll cut and run, again." Stones nodded. "She's a moth to the captain's flame, until she feels the heat, and where we're going, it's going to get very hot!"

I piped up, "This is all 'bout Silkie?" With that Silkie glared at me. Spoons gaze fell on Silkie, and he muttered, "Of course..." Mister Tar stepped in front of Silkie, as if too shield her, and asked Spoons to leave.

The rest of the crew and I cheered, as the Rakehell turned away. Mister Tar looked like he was ready to cast Ol' Nate adrift, again. "One down, and one to go." I said to myself, as I glanced in Silkie's direction.