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.

The nearby island was coming up quickly, I quickly realized the bay we were about to enter was not a peaceful sound we had been promised. I supposed Smithe realized it, too; as I watched him cross himself and mumble a quick prayer. We were on the western side of the great river and entering barataria bay. I glanced back at Mister Tar, and he didn't seem surpised by our final destination. He was more concerned by the water depth, or lack there of, in some places. As we all started to look about, I heard someone else gasp, "This is a bay for pirates!"

I was sitting outside the galley door, when Nate exited the galley rubbing his head and sipping porridge from his tankard; it seemed no one had escaped the new cook's wrath. I wasn't sure if it was her lack of experience aboard ship, or the fact that she'd been sent to one against her will, that seemed to fuel her rage. But I felt obliged to give her a wide berth, for now. Smithe came out of the galley with my food. "Here ye be, sire. She even gave ye a bit more, she did," he said. I smiled at Smithe, and I smiled at the wild cat in the galley. I caught her gaze for a second, and I believe she may have even smiled back. "Thank you, Smithe." I said. "I've heard we should make landfall today." Smithe nodded as he wolfed down his breakfast. "A change of scenery wouldn't do us any harm," I said, as Silkie passed us; Smithe just snorted, in agreement, and continued slopping his food.

As I lay in my hammock, I wondered about Roberts remark. Surely he could find a more discrete place to entertain the ladies? Silkie, what was she thinking? She always smelled like fish. And if she started to sing, again... I swear I'd be tempted to cut her tongue out. I began to slumber and dream about the Creole women, waiting for me in the port of St. Jean. Aye, a port where women didn't smell like fish, or dress like men; pleasant dreams, indeed.

Mister Tar was at the helm, Smithe was securing the jolly boat and Jonesy, along with the remaining Dutch sailors, was trimming sails. The sun was rising off our starboard and I was spent. "Mister Tar, permission to catch a few winks below?" I said. He nodded and replied, "Just a few, fer I don't want ye sleepin' the day away." I knuckled my forehead and staggered below decks. As I approached my berth, I caught a glimpse of Silkie hovering over Roberts. I cleared my throat, "Lose your bearings Silkie? Perhaps you can bunk with Red Cat, if you don't want to rest topside." She bristled, but didn't say a word and brushed by me, as I retreated to my hammock.

The clattering and curses caught my attention. I grabbed a service pistol, a lantern and I walked towards the commotion. I saw the glint of steel and the back of one Silkie. I said, "Silkie, why have you chosen my watch to start your uproar? Lass, if your going to sleep on deck, you can't be skulking about in the dark; I could have shot you!" I returned the pistol to half-cocked but Silkie ignored me. Apparently, Silkie was hunting the source of the clatter. She didn't lower her guard and seemed intent on finding the perpetrator. I raised my lantern and the light fell on someone else sprawled on the deck, near the stairs. I fully cocked the pistol, again.

I spun about, when I heard her rapidly approaching footsteps. When I was sure she didn't have a dirk in her hand, I released my grip on mine and brought my empty hand from behind my back. I bent back a little to see her face, as she were only about chest high and had her hat tilted forward. When she finished her tirade, I spoke, "You want respect? You'll have to earn it, the same as any other man jack, aboard this vessel. Work above decks or in the gallant yard, as Mister Tar wishes. Show you have some seaman skills, do a little less posturing and I might even show you some respect." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Roberts. He didn't look surprised, or angry, at our exchange. I finished, "I see you won't be needing anyone to fetch Roberts! So, good night." I turned to Mister Roberts and said, "Mister Roberts," knuckled my forehead and returned to my berth.

Fetch! This woman needed to be set straight. "Red Cat, It's late and lest you get the wrong idea, let's be clear about your situation. There are no guests aboard the Relentless. You are either a member of the crew or someone whose booked passage." I paused, "Don't let your glamorous surroundings fool you. You're near the galley, which keeps some distance between you and the male crew members. If I see Mister Roberts, I'll let him know you're aboard." I turned an left her, without another word.

My question to Red Cat seemed to have taken the wind out of her sails. At that moment, she must of realized that she too was without a ship. "Not to worry Miss, you can throw yourself on Mister Tar's tender mercies, in the morning." Her shoulders slumped and I said, "Let's find you a berth near the galley, for the night." Nate looked like he was about to object, as I led the weary Cat below decks.

I spied Nate tending to a line and speaking in hushed tones to Red Cat. It hadn't escaped my notice that with the Rakehell gone, we'd added more than a few to ships present company. I addressed Nate, "Day light comes early. If you haven't caught a few winks, I suggest you turn in." I glanced at where the Rakehell had been, then looked at Red Cat and said, "We can find you a berth as well, if you'll be staying aboard?"

I was awake before day break. My stomach was telling me to go to the galley, but the lump on my head was telling me to remain in my hammock. I rolled out of my hammock and reached a compromise between my head and stomach. I knew where some hardtack and smoked meats could be found, in the hold; I decided they could be had without risking another blow to the head. So, having secured some food without risking a trip to the galley, I climbed the steps to the main deck.