After the ship had changed course, I called the men to the foredeck and let them know exactly where we were going and why. When I'd finished, I asked, "Any man here familier with those waters?"
No one spoke up. Then, a bit hesitantly, the new man, Colard, stepped forward. "If'n it please, Ma'am, I've sailed inta that port. Oh, it's been a good while back, some seven years, but I dare say I'd remember. Nae much there, as I recall, and swampy. Had a wee bit o' trouble with fever and lost a few, but nae sae much more as any t'other place."
"Well, Mr. Dysart, I may call on your services when we get closer to port. If, in the meantime, you think of anything else I should know about the place, then come see me."
The old man knuckled his forehead. "I'll do that, Ma'am."
When the men had gone back to their duties, Africa commented, "Oh dat fine. You take us to a place of fever. If Dat Man don shoot you, you die sweatin' in your bed. We all die sweatin' in our beds."
I replied sweetly, "If you don't stop your whining, I'll shoot you where you stand, and you won't have to worry about dying of fever."