Pirate's Gold

CHAPTER 3

A full day is needed, then greedily taken by the pirate captains and their crews to prepare themselves for the capture of that great ship-of-the-line which now bobs up and down, just above gentle waves in Port Royal harbor, at anchor and at rest.  The darkness of this Sunday night comes without moonlight, with gentle rainmists, swollen clouds adding to the inky jet blackness; and first to arrive on station just outside the harbor entrance is Captain Barbarossa, his fast and agile sloop, “Argona” under full sail, the tropical evening saturated with subtle fury, hidden sensual mystery as a strong wind carries Barbarossa’s ship ever forward, phosphorus foam racing from disturbed white caps.

“I need a signal from Cornwallis before I take this sloop inside the harbor where I’m outgunned and outmanned.  Look about yourselves carefully lads, its turning into a wild and stormy night.  We could easily miss our fine English friend.”  Having said that, the huge dour Swede stalked the deck; his red ripe hair streaming behind him, his every movement and gesture deliberate, barely hiding the sheer physical energy of this Aryan giant who looms tall over every other man and commands with his tremendous bulk the respect, total obedience of his crew.

“I think I see five lanterns off the port bow, Captain, steady there, unwinking on the horizon.”  Barbarossa now alerted, points his giant head like a trained St. Bernard at the mindless upheaval of obliterating darkness, identifying for himself a pre-arranged signal steadily beaming out of hissing outraged nothingness.  “Alright, Mr. Perkins, you can head towards those five lights.  I think now at last we are ready, eh, men.”  Barbarossa flashes a rare smile as his ship drives through storm lashed waters like a sleek jungle cat, his crew busily preparing for action.

Not far off, watching, waiting, Captain Jeb Cornwallis and his trusted companion Lafitte receive a return confirmation signal from the “Argona” as the two pirate ships begin their hazardous journey together into the full ripe lips of Port Royal harbor.  Jeb keeps his sleek elegant sloop, “Sea Lark” slightly behind Barbarossa, so that all guns on both ships can be brought to bear.  Their twin masted boats pass easily into a moonless harbor.  Lights can be seen onshore, but their twinkling candle beams are hazy, covered by a lingering sea mist.  The heavily armed pirate sloops go to work, causing a tremendous distraction onshore and in the harbor itself.  Cannons blaze broadsides into anchored merchantmen.  Hot shot is used, causing fires and general mayhem for anyone onboard those neatly parked vessels; then turning long range cannon on the town, the two sloops send explosions rocketing into buildings and streets.  The city populace is stunned and bewildered by this sudden violence, no one is capable of swiftly reacting to the emergency.  All available military personnel, soldiers, sailors and official citizenry are rushed to save their town first, then if possible the neatly parked rows of burning frigates.  Acrid smoke, raging fires create garish ghost patterns in the night mist.  Phantom ships seem to come out of nowhere then disappear.  Initial confusion gives way to panic, the populace remains out of focus, terrified--and now setting ablaze their  twin masted sloops, abandoning ship, to converge in several whale boats, Captains Barbarossa and Jeb Cornwallis lead their bucanneer crews to rendevous with Jean Lafitte and El Gato who have entered the harbor themselves unnoticed; and even now are boarding the “Royal Sovereign”, to bind their small ships to the looming wooden giant with grappling hooks.

Not prepared at all for this invasion, a squad of British marines, always posted on the “Royal Sovereign”, succumb easily to this swarming mob of corsairs.  Within a scant few minutes, the entire company of pirates are united onboard that great battleship, some 750 men in all.  Anchor is weighed and the unsinkable man-of-war begins her trans-oceanic flight, picking up speed gradually as hustling, out of breath desperadoes run up her huge masts, setting square sails and royals.  Captain/War Admiral Jeb Cornwallis directs each complex movement as ship and crew respond with a stately elegance befitting such an ancient floating giant moving like a huge pre-historic beast through tropical ovarian waters.  Three thick, towering masts, three crowded decks of cannon, the “Royal Sovereign” is a sight indeed.