The Pirate Hunter's Smarter Brother!

[Smithe]

The remainin' men in the water had stopped swimmin', an formed a circle, each wit' their backsides t' the other. All of 'em were lyin' face down in the water. Only liftin' their heads t' take a breath.

It was an eerie sight t' watch, an I exclaimed, "The cap'n has 'em doin the dead man's float!" I grabbed the arm o' the lad wit' the oar, "Quit slappin' the water, ye slacked-jawed idiot, yer only attractin' the sharks t' the boat!"

On Mister Tar's orders, we watched one man peel off from the circle after another. Each slowly swam t' the boat, wit' nary a splash, until only Jonesy an the cap'n remained in the water.

Edited February 13, 2009 by Smithe

[Dillard]

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.

[Ransom]

After watching Jacky's narrow escape from the shark, I turned to Africa. "Umm, could you please go below and bring me up a tot of rum."

He cocked an eye. "You don need no rum, jus 'cause Dat Man nearly get shark et."

I took a deep breath, waiting for my legs to stop feeling as unsupportive as custard. "No doubt you're right. But get it anyway."

With a roll of his eyes, he headed below, while I watched Jacky's men row him back to the Relentless. In the meantime, the white tip continued to patrol the water between the two ships, looking for another victim.

With my voice quavering a little, despite my attempt at bravado, I shouted over at Jacky, "Have a nice swim?"

[Jacky Tar]

After being unceremoniously dropped into the bottom of the jolly boat, I sat up an addressed the men, "Thank you, gentlemen. I'm grateful ye decided not t' let me become that shark's next meal."

I glanced over at the Rakehell, an commented how pale her captain looked. Grabbing the jolly boat's only mast, I stood t' address Ransom, "Aye, the water is quite nice. After I catch my breath, an get a bite t' eat, I intend t' go fer another swim. Care t' join me?" I taunted her.

Edited February 18, 2009 by Jacky Tar

[Ransom]

I looked at the still circling shark, then looked back at Jacky. "I'm not that stupid. Please don't tell me you're going to tempt fate twice? Can't you just gaff whatever is down there and pull it up with the capstan?"

Africa came up and handed me the mug of rum. Looking down at Jacky, he muttered, "Let Dat Man swim with da shark if he want."

I glared at my quartermaster, and downed the rum.

[Ransom]

Tavish MacTavish was a man who liked guns. Therefore, the Pride of Flodden sported as many twelve pounders as she could safely hold without fear of sinking under their weight. Also, fore and aft, were sets of swivel guns.

Yes, MacTavish had always believed in the power of guns, which was why he turned to his first mate and said, "That yon Spanish ship appears tae be a wee bit poorly. I dunna think she will put up much of a fight. And the sloop isna a problem, should she come sniffing aboot our tail. Let's say we heft a lob over the Spaniard's bow, and see how the deevils scamper."

The first mate looked back toward the other brig and schooner. "What about them, sir?"

MacTavish glanced at the other two ships. "Och, they're a bit occupied with yon fishy. They be nae a threat to us at the moment. Call up the gunners."

"Aye, sir." Then the first mate turned, cupped his hands at his mouth, and shouted, "Gunners at your stations!"

[Dillard]

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."

[Roberts]

Roberts had watched the fray in the water with little interest once it were apparent no great treasure 'd been brought. Normally he would have, as gold and the promise o' it seeped into his veins like a briny gale into wool. Aye he had come t' th' rail with the others, but Robert's real intent were if a chest of gold be lifted an one o' them scum attempt t' off th' other, he'd have evened th' score right then. No treasure need be settled back t' th' bottom which should be equally divided.

Now he stood aft like a great hulk. His deeply tanned visage set in concentration of his own private thoughts which had drifted back t' a certain lass he had unfinished business with. One meaty hand lay across the butt of the pistol he'd aimed by way of the sharks, now stowed at his waist. The breeze trifled with a few unruly pieces o' thick black hair determined t' escape from neath th' wool cap he wore. His bright blue eyes had flicked back an forth from an expressionless face, passin 'tween th' ships which had maneuvered so strangley about 'em. Sunlight glinted off brass as th' brig known 't Mr. Dysart began 't come about...

She'd run out 'er guns.

Roberts did not move, but a slow smile creased th' ruddy tan above so many thick black curls o' his beard revealin a hint o' gold he carried. He reached out an stopped a crewman who was tryin t' pass th' imposin man witout notice, graspin the lad's gangly arm wit ease "Tell th' Cap'n" he said without turnin about.. "I b'lieve we may have t' welcome Mr. Dysarts good friends. He nodded topwards th' advancin vessel an the lad looked across. His eyes grew big an he rushed foreward with barely an "Aye sah" Roberts continued t' stand an watch as he silently counted th' guns.

Edited February 19, 2009 by Roberts

[Ransom]

"Ma'am! Ye might want to have another look at that new brig. She's runnin' out her guns!" Tunny yelled from the fighting top, where he'd been stationed.

I swung the glass around, and sure enough, she was sporting more guns than I had seen since leaving Portsmouth naval yard. "What the hell?"

Colard came rushing up, pointing out what I'd already observed. His old face was creased with worry, but he said, "I dinna think he's come for us, Ma'am. If ye'll notice, he's heading for yon Spaniard. Hates Spaniards, does ol' MacTavish."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Dysart, I'm not taking any chances." I turned to Africa. "Run out what guns we have. Get Ludo and Goose up here. We may need all hands."

"Aye, Ma'am," he replied, a wide grin on his face. "Maybe we help him sink dos Spaniards."

"Just get to business, before he decides to sink us." I was about to warn Jacky, but could see that his gun crew was already jumping to it. I swung the glass back to the bigger brig. "Right, then. Just what are you up to?"

[Ransom]

MacTavish waved away his first mate's warning. "Aye, I can see they've run out their wee guns. But they willna fire on us, if we dinna fire on them."

"How can you be sure, sir?"

"Because I'm nae a ninny, like yourself. Now, battle off and get me closer to yon Spaniard. She doesna look to be in any shape to fire back, sae maybe we can board her with nary a spark o' powder."

"She looks to be a derelict, If you ask me."

MacTavish gave his first mate a great cuff to the side of his head, then growled, "Well, I dinna ask you! Just see tae mae guns."

[Jacky Tar]

"Mister Dillard, send someone t' the galley t' fetch somethin' for us t' eat," I said, after dressin' on deck.

"Oi, an Dillard! See, that ye steer clear o' Rosie yer self, as I may want ye t' join us on the next dive." Stones snorted, after that last remark. Everyone knew Rosie might try t' cut Dillard's throat, fer she'd almost flayed the man outside the galley, recently.

I looked at Stones, "I need some way t' kill that shark." Stones nodded, but he offered no suggestions.

Edited February 27, 2009 by Jacky Tar

[Colard Dysart]

Colard was much relieved when it became clear that the Pride of Flodden was not going to fire on them. She was heading with unerring purpose toward the Spanish sloop, which oddly enough, appeared to be oblivious of her approach. Although Colard had not been in MacTavish's company in over six years, he knew the old Scott was a wily devil, and also a tad fickle. If he couldn't gain much from the Spanish ship, there was no guarantee he wouldn't turn on them.

As the big brig sailed past them she fired her first guns, sending up a wall of water just in front of the anchored sloop.

"Weel, MacTavish," Colard muttered, "let's hope ye take yon Spaniard and go. For I've nae desire tae renew our aquaintance." He also had no desire to have the guns of the Pride of Flodden pointed at the Rakehell.

Edited February 27, 2009 by Colard Dysart

[Black Nate]

As the brig fired upon the spaniard, Nate put the little ship in irons ta keep from crowding the Rakehell. "Jaysus! Wot is it wit this spot o water!? Jaysus, Mary n Joseph, alla these great guns blazin away!" Nate took up the glass and tried to make out th stern o th brig before the powder smoke obscured things too much. " Prioff. . . . Lod, London? Nay, Pride o Flod. . . . Flodden? Flodden, Flodden. . . . I knows at name. Aye! Flodden! Not but a lick south o Edinburg! She's a bloody Scottish ship!" Nate was about ta say more, but another burst o gun fire come from the brig and it were lost to the noise. Red Cat just shrugged an watched wot was ta become o that spanish ship under th guns o the Pride of Flodden.

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas had been too keen to watch Roberto and Phonse continue to retrieve the treasures from the bottom. Gold bars, several small heavy wet satchels of gold dust, and one or two smaller chests of jewels were but some of what was beginning to fill the bottom of the dinghy. A sudden <thud> followed by a all splash of water landed just yards from Tomas' small boat. Phonse had been holding onto the gunwale as Roberto swam back to the pair. Tomas still could not see where the shot had originated from. Another <thud> followed by a splash, this one nearer to the vessel they were tethered to.

Tomas pulled the men into boat, unhooked the line and rowed slowly around to the stern. He caught eye of a larger ship bearing down on them and firing. Tomas cupped his hands to his mouth and called for the Captain. There was no reply. The ship rode steadily at anchor and no movement nor sound was heard onboard. Tomas then had to make a decision. Get aboard and do what they could to outrun the larger ship, or stay put and do what they could to hide. The Spaniard maneuvered the rowboat to the stern again and watched as they closed in. He called once again to the Captain, but nothing. Tomas could only assume the ship had not seen he and his men. They would not be able to as the dinghy was well between the Captain's ship and their enemy.

He immediately thought of a plan. Something they had pulled off before. Yet it was in Potosi's harbor and under guise of night. This was a bit different. Quite a bit different.

He and Roberto climbed slowly aboard the leeward side of the ship. Crawling into the hold on their bellies they collected what food and arms they could find. Roberto called to Tomas a reported he could find nothing but rotten bread loaded with weevils. Tomas quickly ran about looking for any guns to use. All that could be found was a single short sword and a grappel. <Thud>, <thud>. Tomas waited and held his hand up to Roberto. A heavy whistling followed by the sound of ratlines popping told the Spaniard that they were rapidly closing in. Tomas told Roberto his plan and they ran about below deck compiling what they could.

Crawling into the sunlight again, Tomas lay on his stomach peering through the rails. He could now see several men on the quarterdeck of the ship. He and Roberto scurried over the rail and into the dinghy with Phonse at the oars. He told Phonse of his plan. "Remember Salvación de la Mar in Potosi?" Tomas asked. "Si, si, it nearly killed me Señor Guerrero, how could I forget." Phonse shook his head and stammered, "La, la idea no me enloquece o no me vuelve loco." Tomas simply smiled, "Esta bien, Phonse. Esta bien. You are still with us now my friend, no?" Phonse had been near death more than once with Tomas, but somehow it had always turned out okay. "Si Señor, esta bien, " Phonse agreed begrudgingly.

They pulled themselves along the hull of the ship. <Thud> followed by a splash near the hull. <Thud> followed by something ripping across the deck above ther heads. The men tightened their grip. They would have to time this perfectly.

Edited March 1, 2009 by Tomas Guerrero

[Ransom]

When no return fire ensued, MacTavish was a little disappointed. He was even more disappointed when he got a closer view of the vessel.

"The bluidy thing is a wreck. How the deevil did she sail this far?" He turned to one of the crew. "When we sidle up tae her, hop on over with a few of the other men and take a look around. I'm nae certain this isna some kind of trap."

The man in question rolled his eyes like a spooked horse. "What if it's a plague ship, sir?"

MacTavish hadn't thought of that. "Weel, then dinna touch anything. Just look aboot and see what's what."

With extreme reluctance, four men stood at the rail, ready to swing over to the other ship as soon as they got close enough.

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas could hear the vessel nearing. They moved themselves back to midships. The Spaniard lit the slow match which was peaking out of one of the cannon ports. He closed the port slowly. Tomas pushed the rowboat away from the hulk. Phonse and Roberto laid on the oars with as much might as they could muster, especially since the dinghy was weighing heavily with their collection from the bottom. The sun was now at their backs as they tried to create a shadow of themselves hiding in the openness of the sea. Tomas laid low in the craft watching and hoping the match would not burnitself out before it reached the powder stores. The Spaniard thought that at least it would be harder for the ship to spy them while looking into the sun throught the burned out wreck.

Tomas looked into the sun and could not see a safe place to land. He immediately turned when he heard a large fizzle and then suddenly,

<<B-O-O-M>>

Edited March 3, 2009 by Tomas Guerrero

[Ransom]

When the explosion occurred, MacTavish instinctively ducked, throwing his hands over his head protectively, as debris flew everywhere. Timbers, rigging, and god-knew-what all, rained over the decks of the Pride of Fodden. Crewmen ran for any sort of cover they could find. The four men waiting at the rail to board the Spanish vessel, were blown back on deck. One lay silent, and draped awkwardly over the capstan.

"God's buidy teeth!" MacTavish bellowed, when he finally dared raise his head. "Got rot all Spaniards to buidy hell, I say! Devious, nasty, tricksters. I'll teach um tae try and sink mae ship!"

He shoved his way to the rail, and squinted into the sun. He knew this trick, and no Spaniard on this good earth was going to use it and win. "There!" He pointed to the retreating row boat, barely visible in the glare. "That's the deevils. A gold guinea to the first man who puts a hole in that boat!"

The gunners of the Pride of Flodden set to with a will.

[Black Nate]

Nate's eyes went wide as the ship blew up. "Jaysus, Mary n Joseph! Look out!" Nate Grabbed Red CAt an brought her down on the deck of their ship, covering her over. The explosion rocked everything in the area and some small bits of debris bounced onto the deck and plopped into th water all around. Nate raised his head ta see if things was alright when more explosions were heard. Nate realized they were now hearin th great guns o the Scottish ship firin again. He raised is head an looked at the Cat. "Ye alright lass?"

[Colard Dysart]

Colard watched with horror as the Spanish vessel exploded into a ball of smoke and falling timber. Everyone on the Rakehell froze, concentrating on what would happen to the Scottish brig, who had been almost close enough to board the smaller boat.

Tunny, still up on the fighting top, yelled down, "The brig don't look damaged much. She's got her rigging tangled with debris is all."

With no glass, Colard couldn't tell, as smoke lay thick around both ships. As he squinted his eyes in an attempt to see better, the captain came to stand next to him.

"So," she said, "What do you think your Scottish friend will do now? Turn on us, perhaps?"

"Can't rightly say, ma'am. But what I do ken, is that MacTavish won't rest until he's killed every last Spaniard that was on that ship. He dinna take kindly tae someone trying tae blow him up."

"Well, good."

"Ma'am?

She smiled. "Let him chase the Spaniards all he likes. Let him chase them all the way to China. It will keep him out of our hair."

"Quite frankly, ma'am, I dinna think he'll hae tae chase them too far. They're probably all dead. And if they are, then he's going tae come back here, wantin' tae see why we're all loitering around a bunch of barren sand dunes. Powerful curious, is ol' MacTavish."

She continued to smile. "Well, curiosity killed the cat. It may do the same to a nosy Scott."

She left him at the rail, but Colard had no doubt that Mactavish would want to know why a schooner, a brig, and a sloop were all congregating in such a remote spot in the ocean. And why their crews were willing to risk sharks to get what lay on the sea bottom below them.

Then the Scottish guns began to fire.

Edited March 4, 2009 by Colard Dysart

[Red Cat Jenny]

Red Cat felt summin atop her. She had both eyes squoze shut an opened jes one...slowly..

t'warn't wreckage...she opened th' other eye an shook her head as th' rest o' her were pined t' th' deck, bits an ashes lay about them "Phoo!...Nate were lookin away over them an then turned t' grin at her but not afore inspectin her expression t' see if she were aright. At least he made as so...

"Mr. Durant...."

"Aye..?" came th' Irish's reply, but no movement save fer th' grin. "I ..ehrm..wall.." Cat struggled under th sailors weight a moment somehow she though he'd be ligter bein lanky an such. Th grin continued till it reached his eyes. "Ahem...Nate...ye need not be a squintin at me like 'at..and I thankee..but I b'lieve I needs ta breathe.." He paused a moment an their eyes met. A small grin tugged th' corner o' er mouth but then was tucked away. "Oi Nate...do ye mind halpin me up 'fore ye take e'ry wrinkle from me coat?" He laughed an helped her to her feet then they both turned to look at the distruction amongst th' gatherin.

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas and his men were mere minutes from land. There was a small cay they could reach with not much distance between them. The Spaniard could hear a loud roar and could only guess that a reef was nearby and it was the surf they heard. Tomas knew that they would slowly be borne down upon. It would take a bit for the crew to remove the debris from their deck, change tack, and raise sail again, let alone reload and fire. He looked at Phonse, he was sweating heavily and very red in the face. Tomas pulled Phonse to the stern as he took Phonse's spot next to Roberto. In time, the men pulled as a pair and made more distance than Phonse had. <Thud>, and then a whistle. A sudden splash just to their starboard brought a tremendous wall of water down on them. <Thud>, and again.

"¡Maldita sea!" Those on board had reloaded and were firing much faster than Tomas had anticipated. The vessel had made its way around the flaming hulk and was rapidly approaching them. Water was now exploding all around them. Tomas' hair now had flopped around his shoulders and hid his silver cross. He looked down and bade a small prayer for his men and pulled even harder. Suddenly they felt their boat lift as they had reached one of the swells. They were carried upward and rode one of the crests as far as they could. Roberto had stopped rowing to ride the wave, yet Tomas continued to pull. They spun about and another crest caught them.

Phonse clutched onto the gunwale as the boat turned hard to starboard. Tomas could see small puffs of smoke in the ratlines of their pursuer and could only figure that they also now had muskets firing at them. Immediately, another crest surfaced and overturned the boat. Roberto flew over Tomas and banged his head on the oarlock. Tomas dove clear of the longboat, but Phonse was not so lucky. The Spaniard saw their afternoon's labors fall to the reef bottom again.

Tomas bobbed up to find Roberto face down and Phonse clutching to piece of the boat.

"Phonse!!, Phonse!!" yelled out Tomas.

"Si, si, Tomas the boat, the treasure, ees gone."

Tomas grabbed Roberto around the shoulders and did his best to get them over the reef. "Phonse, get to shore!"

Edited March 5, 2009 by Tomas Guerrero

[Smithe]

Most o' the crew had moved t' the waist, t' watch the spectacle unfold. Even the captain was watchin' the one act battle.

"Sire, seems yon captain doesn't like the Spaniards much," I says t' Mister Tar.

He replied, "Well, if they blew themselves up in my face, I'd be none too happy wit' them either."

"Aye, suppose we'll be nosin' around that wreck later?" I asked.

He smiled, "Not t'day Smithe."

Edited March 5, 2009 by Smithe

[Ransom]

MacTavish couldn't believe that not one shot had stopped the small boat from reaching the shore.

"Are ye all bluidy blind! Ye canna hit a wee boat with bluidy twenty-pounders! Ye should hae blown it tae splinters, ye ruddy imbeciles! No more brains than a herd o' sheep, the lot of ye!"

Most of the gunners keep their eyes focused on the deck, not wanting to face the enraged captain. "There was just too much smoke, sir. Couldn't see much to aim at." One brave soul ventured.

"Smoke! Smoke ye say! Weel, ye had best get used tae it, for if ye don't get me them yon Spaniards, I'll send the lot of ye tae hades. Plenty of smoke there, I'll wager. Now lower a boat, ye ninnies!" He turned his bloodshot stare on his first mate. "And ye better keep a squinty eye on those other ships, just in case they decide tae come tae those weevil's rescue. If ye hadn't noticed, they be flyin' nae flags either, sae nae tellin' who they are or what they're aboot."

"Aye, sir." The first mate scuttled off to climb the rigging, glad to be far away from MacTavish's anger.

"Now," MacTavish shouted, "them as is nae in the boat, get tae fixing our rigging. If the Flodden isna ready tae sail by the time I get back, ye best throw yerselves over the side, or I'll feed ye tae the sharks meself."

[Tomas Guerrero]

Tomas dragged Roberto through the shallows. Phonse emerged on his hands and knees coughing and spitting up sea water. The Spaniard pulled Roberto against the drain of the waves. Reaching dry sand, he collapsed, Phonse close by. They could see the ship tacking about just off the shoals.

"What now El Guerrero?" Phonse asked.

Tomas breathed heavily and leaned back on his elbows all the while watching the goings on offshore.

[Jacky Tar]

We watched the fate o' the Spanish vessel through the smoke. The attackin' brig was putting boats in the water, an looked poised t' chase the Spaniards on land, if need be.

"They appear t' be ready t' give chase on foot!" I shook my head, "The Spaniard's ship is sinkin' an the few survivors will die, if left on that rock. Someone doesn't want t' wait fer time an the elements t' finish them off."

Lowering' the spyglass, I made a final remark, "Let's hope the captain o' that brig is only after Spanish ships!"