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The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!


Inigo Montoya

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Africa had let the sails luff a bit, to slow us down as the Jolly boat was lowered into the water, when Nate pulled his little trick on Roberts.

I was so furious, that I seriously thought about sinking the jolly boat. And I would, had I not thought the sound of a cannon would bring the galleon down on us. How dare that Irish git defy my orders. I didn't hold my position as captain by playing at games, and I did not intend to play at this one.

With a voice that left no room for misunderstanding, I shouted to the crew, "If that bloody Irishman comes near this ship again, you have my permission to shoot him. IS THAT CLEAR?"

Inwardly, I had a smile of grim satisfaction, for the "little pin dot" on the chart I'd marked for Nate, was not where the two ships were going.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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"See the Rakehell has turned in t' the wind, t' allow the boat a safer launch." I said, "There's only one sailor in that boat! Whom would Ransom want off her ship bad enough t' give up a Jolly boat, which she may need?" I wondered out loud.

Dillard, replied, "I believe it's that sailor Nate, sir."

"Wot?" I stepped forward an snatched the spyglass, from Dillard.

"It would seem that Nate, has left someone behind, too." A figure standin' at the waist, had a pistol pointed at the sailor, in the boat. "An they seem t' be takin' exception wit' Nate goin' solo." I said, while gazin' through the spyglass.

I shook my head, an handed the spyglass back t' Dillard.

"Orders sir?" Dillard asked.

"Stay on our present course." I replied, "If Ransom, is willin' t' give up a boat, her ship must be more seaworthy than ye thought."

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With Nate and the small boat rapidly dropping behind us, I made a decision. Gone was the time for false pride, stubborn will, or useless anger. I needed to let Jacky know exactly what my situation was. What he chose to do with that knowledge would be up to him.

"Africa, drop us behind, and then alongside the Relentless's starboard side. Put me within hailing distance, close as you can. Then, when I give the word, heel the Rakehell over, exposing the hole in her side. Understand?"

He nodded, and called out the orders. The maneauver didn't take long, as even injured, the Rakehell would always be faster than the brig.

Along with a few of his crew, I saw Jacky come to the rail, his expression one of puzzlement. When we were a mere twenty yards apart, I shouted between cupped hands, "Cat went overboard in the storm. Nate went bck to look for her. He was to take Roberts with him, but tricked us. I don't know his plans, but the chart I gave him does not show where we are going in the Tortugas, so if he lives, and is captured, no one will know where we are." My voice was already going hoarse. "And there's something you need to see."

Turning, I called to Africa, "NOW!"

Africa shouted the orders, and the crew quickly put the Rakehell on her starboard elbow and cut across the Relentless's bow, exposing the raw wound the Rakehell had received from the Spanish gun.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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Nate had to tack several times, due to the direction of the wind, in order to get closer to shore, and back to where they came from. At one point he saw topsails off to the south. Nate hauled wind and dropped the sail, taking up the sweeps again. There was no way another ship could spot such a little boat from so far off, no matter how sharp an eye or depth of their glass. After a time Nate was about past the ship way off in the south, and as luck or fate would have it, he spotted some flotsam in the water. Nate maneuvered over to it and was sure it came from the Rakehell. "Aye Father I'll follow yer trail to er. She ain't made it ta Fiddler's Green, not by far." After taking another bearing Nate put the rig and sail back up, continuing northwest. He saw land by and large, and what looked to be some sand bars and some such. Patting his charm, Nate hauled in the sail, picking up half a knot more and again began humming 'spanish ladies'.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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"The Rakehell is coming up fast on our Starboard, sir!" Dillard shouted.

"Are her gun ports open?" I said, t' which Dillard replied, "No, Mister Tar."

Thankful fer that, we waited t' see wot' were their intentions.

As they came along side, Ransom shouted that Red Cat had fallen overboard, an Nate had set out t' retrieve her. T' which I replied, but not loud enough fer her t' hear, "More likely, Nate accidentally pushed her overboard!" Which brought a stifled chuckle from my crew.

In a louder voice, I shouted, "So says Nate, an ye gift him a boat, wit' no terms set fer it's return." I shook my head, "Fools bargain, Ransom." But I knew she was no fool, before I could say so, Africa pitched the Rakehell on her elbow, t' show us her hull near the water line.

"Yer luck is runnin' from bad t' worse, Ransom. There are no dry docks in this part o' the Caribbean, luv." Her options were limited, beach her vessel, or run the risk o' sinkin' in the open ocean, if her patches fail.

"I hav spare oak plankin', an it's yers fer the askin'. But we both know, ye need a boatyard an some shipwrights." I was saddened fer her, an shouted, "We're not far from the gulf coast, an I suggest ye head north, an seek it out."

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Silkie came out of the galley when she heard Dillards call.

"Tank gudness!"

Leaning against the rail as the Rakehell pulled along she was astonished to hear of Cat's disappearance and Nate's folly, although his foolishness didn't surprise her.

"Jacky, I ken fine out ifin she's alive ifin I ken get m'ands inta d'woter."

She looked hopefully at Jacky and worried that he would suggest dangeling her from her ankels over the side without slowing the ship.

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As the Rakehell dropped back along the Relentless's port side, I caught Jacky's last bit of advice. So he could hear me better, I leaned out over the rail and answered him. "So far the repair has held, and we're not taking on water. I'll trust what little luck I have left to getting us to the Tortugas before I'd trust it crossing the gulf. As for the jolly boat, I've one other, and Nate would have been no use to me. I didn't trust him so he's better gone. As I said, the chart I gave him is mis-marked. He and Cat are on their own, and if captured by the Spanish, the chart won't betray us."

I took a breath, then, "I'll follow you as long as I can. If we start to take on water again, or the mend fails, I'll run up a distress flag. Your choice whether you honor it or not."

In frustration, I pounded my fist on the rail. "Get me to the bloody Tortugas, Jacky. That's all I ask. We can make better repairs there."

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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I turned t' Silkie, "That won't be necessary, lass." I pulled a small pebble from me pocket, that's center glowed red, an showed it t' Silkie. Wit' out further explanation, I shoved it back in t' me pocket.

"Of course, if ye feel ye must get wet, Stones can help ye in t' the water!" Silkie turned an saw Stones grinning.

I turned me attention, back t' the Rakehell, "'Course, we'll honor yer distress call!" I shouted back. "Unless, she keeps crossin' our bow, wit' out regard t' our vessel's course." I muttered.

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Nate had been searching for a time, getting close to the shoreline. More bits of flotsam had been found, nothing useful besides giving the flow of the current and where Red Cat might be. Nate dropped canvas after a time, but left the rig up and a small pennant flying at the top. It were a gamble cos it could be seen by someone on shore. Nate hoped it would be the Cat who would see it. Nate let the current and breeze push the small boat along, hoping that mother nature would take him to the right place. Nate had worked up a powerful hunger and thirst, so it were time to have a kip. "Need ta keep up me strength, dunno how long til I finds her. Aye Father, you heard me right, til I finds her, not if." Nate snapped a biscuit apart and began gnawing on a piece, always keeping his eyes busy along the strand and surrounding waters.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Tomas peered around to see any prying eyes watching his outfit. He walked to the edge of the water and put the glass to his eye. Tomas carried the glass round to southeast.

Maldita sea, no me busques las cosquillas!" swore Tomas. A single pennant at flutter was spied.

"Hay problema Señor?" the short fat assistant asked.

Tomas marched back up the beach and gave the instructions to cover the hole with palm fronds and to make way back to town.

"Any word of this and you'll be in the bottom of that hole," he grabbed the man's collar and pushed him away.

"For art to exist, for any sort of aesthetic activity to exist, a certain physiological precondition is indispensable: intoxication."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

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With the assurance that Jacky would stick with me, at least until we reached the Tortugas, I finally relaxed a bit. We were only one day out from our destination, and I was eager to be able to drop anchor and give Colard and Jimmy time to do a better job on the hull.

As for the fate of Red Cat and Nate, I didn't hold out much hope. A jolly boat in the open ocean is no safe place to be, and the odds of Nate actually finding the Cat were slim. And should he find her, their chances of surviving were slimmer still. For all I knew, both were already prisoners of the Spanish.

I did wonder just how the Cat was swept overboard. True, even the most cautious sailor could come to grief, but Cat usually lived up to her name, and always landed on her feet. And Nate's insistence on finding her struck me as more than blind loyalty. I suspected that behind the grin, lay a devious and tricksy mind.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

RAKEHELL-1.jpg

You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

Found in the Ruins — Unique Jewelry

Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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Colard had watched with interest as the two ships drew alongside each other. It also eased his mind that the two captains seemed to have put their personal feelings aside for the good of the two crews. After the conference was over, Colard went below to check the repair, which looked to be still holding nicely.

Yet his old heart was a bit heavy with Nate gone. He'd liked the lad, but had no illusions about the chances of seeing him again. The sea was a cruel mistress, and a man in a small boat was but a toy to her.

With a final check of the hull, he went back up on deck. He walked to the stern and let his gaze follow their wake. But try as hard as he could, squinting his old eyes, he could see no trace of the jolly boat and its lone occupant. With a sigh, he returned to his duties, but there was no song in him this day.

Then they to the tavern house

with meikle oly prance

One spoke with wordis wonder crouse

A done with mischance!

*******************

I would die where I would dine

In tavern to recline

Then would angels pray the glibber

God have mercy for this bibber.

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"So do Silkies when lashed t' an anchor." Stones muttered.

Silkie stepped up to the lad. Her posture was not that of challenge or defiance. She seemed curiously non confrontational. "Now lad, did I say I wanted Stones to sink? Nay, I said stones sink. Ave I been so unpleasant as t'alienate every one uv d'crew?" her lips turned down at the corners and she watched her toe trace the grain of the wooden deck.

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I responded t' the conversation 'tween Silkie an Stones, wit' mock surprise; it had been some time since Stones had lashed anyone t' an anchor. "I believe it's the captain's prerogative whom we sink aboard this vessel!" Stones replied, "Aye, Suh."

I grabbed Silkie by the arm t' lead her away, an whispered in hush tones, "An I'd appreciate it, if ye didn't flirt wit' the crew!"

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Nate let the wind and waves push the small boat along until he finished his biscuit and a chunk o cheese carved off a larger hunk, washed it down wit a bit o water and set to loosing the sail. Nate were pretty close to shore, so he tacked out a bit and ran close-hauled to the wind for a time, scouring the shore. Some sand bars and atolls lay ahead, so Nate dropped off a point and eased closer at a slower run. Not much flotsam now, but wit the current and wind blowin', it had all been blown east a ways since the Cat went by the board. "Where be that cailin, I knows she be this side o Fiddler's Green still. Jus startin ta get dark now, hour er two an I'll hafta beach this ol' boat an start fresh in th morn. Father, you gonna leave us both ta shiver thru th night?" Nate hunched his shoulders and redoubled his efforts in trying ta spot the Red Cat along the shore.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Share on other sites

Red Cat had hiked all along th' beach one way and returned on higher ground above th' crescent cove back t' other.

Th' trip back only revealed her pawprints in th' sand below..most bein washed away by th' surf.

She'd deliberately walked near th' waters edge for jes that reason. Hot, sweaty bitten by a few bugs, an jus a lil trepidatious, Red Cat flopped back in the sand 'neath the scraggly palms.

She'd taken of coat, wesket, an hat and wore only breeches, a shirt an headscarf.

She leaned her head back agin th' trunk of one o' th trees an looked up at th few clouds passin through th' sky. They were tinged wit pink at th' edges an it would be dark soon. She said t' no one in particular "Aye, I'll start another fire, but not jus yet"

Red Cat was not one ta give in, but she was cross at herself fer such a foolish move an sat stewin against th tree. Her only hope at leat at th' moment was tha someone would come lookin for her. Th' Rakehell was damaged an couldna come so perilously close t' shore..but the jollyboats were sound an jus maybe....

Cat closed her eyes an tried t' shake off a gnawin fear. She tossed a handfull a sand towards th' ocean. "Roberts wouldna leave me behind.." she thought. Surely he'd be scourin th out islands for her. Maybe even take ol Young Nate wit 'im if th cap'n allowed for it...she tried t' think thoughts that mayhap even Silkie might percieve wit her mysterious ways.

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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It were gittin darker an darker. Nate decided that he didn't want ta hafta beach the boat in th dark, so he dropped canvas an pulled out the sweeps once more, pulling for shore on what looked to be a jutting outcrop o beach. Nate's eyes were tired from searchin and nearly teared up from th wind an spray. As Nate got close he pulled harder and run the small boat up on shore as much as could be before he jumped out and pulled her up as best he could. There were some palms further up, but too far for the line to reach, so Nate pulled the boat as far as he could. Climbing back aboard, Nate got his musket, shot n powder and walked a short ways in each direction, scoutin out the area. Seemed uninhabited, so Nate headed back to the boat to set up some sort o camp. Down went the mast and rig, the supplies put up further ashore and covered wit th sail. Nate emptied the boat and with effort, turned it on its side, he stuck a sweep into the sand and tied off the line to it as well. The other sweep and mast was fashioned wit the sail into a shelter of sorts. Nate did all this in silence as he were too tired ta sing as he worked. When he was finished, Nate plopped onto the sand under his shelter and leaned back. "Alright Father, ya got me this far. Nother bit o kip an mebee a wee fire ta keep me warm. Come dawn and We back on the hunt, aye. She ain't in Fiddler's Green, I knows it. She made it ta land, you says so. Tank ya Father, fer this fine meal, I should be sharin it wit the cailin right now."

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Share on other sites

Tomas watched the man beach the craft and set up a makeshift camp. He could hear the man mutter to himself, but what he said was unknown to Tomas' ears. He eyed the man a bit longer and sat, perched on his heels, waiting for the man to fall asleep.

"For art to exist, for any sort of aesthetic activity to exist, a certain physiological precondition is indispensable: intoxication."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

0000banner-accommodation.png

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Nate finished up his meal and relaxed for a time, watched the sky grow dim. Nate had an odd feeling about, so kept his musket close, his pistol and cutlass closer. His eyes roamed the shores around him, still with that unsettling feeling. As dusk approached, it was time to go scavenge for wood for a small fire.

~Black Nate~

Brenpen185.jpg

A ship in a puddle is better than no ship at all

Dear Saint Brendan, to mention your name is to recall much travelling.

It was in relation to voyages that you emerged as a popular Saint.

The Irish became great travelers thus spreading their faith everywhere.

Protect not only mariners but also all those who go down to the sea in ships. Amen.

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Share on other sites

Red Cat shook 'erself from a trance havin stared out at th glint o' sun off th waves fer a might too long..she stood an stretched checkin for aches an bruises. Still a might damp, Cat turned t' look fer good dry wood t' start a fire 'fore th' sun set. She shielded her eyes agin th slantin rays o' th settin sun an headed up th small embankment in search o' wot she may find.

Some days even my lucky rocketship underpants won't help....

Her reputation was her livelihood.

I'm a pirate, love. By nature and by choice!

My inner voice sometimes has an accent!

My wont? A delicious rip in time...

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