Mir Pacifica

Published: 19 Feb 2018

That first day out on the open expanse of the endless ocean was almost welcomed by Thomas. While his own sea-legs were soon under him he had to feel a little pity for those not accustomed to the movement of the ship when under sail. It took a mighty effort to keep the smile off his face as he saw many of the men and boys from his old army begin to rush to the gunnels and lean precariously over them as the more experienced sailors called out ribald remarks.

Thomas was well aware how long it could sometimes take to get used to the roll and pitch of the ship and guessed that the dinner tables would not be too full that first night out.

On the second day under sail, Roger watched Craven Morgan as the man stood surveying his gunners cleaning the guns. Around the gunners the rest of the crew; except those on watch duty or sail trimming; were holly stoning the deck and seeing to the metal fittings.

“Midshipman Morgan!”

“Aye Sir”

“Make signal to all ships. ‘Clear the decks and run out the guns’ ‘Captains to keep time and report until guns are ready to fire.’”

“Aye Sir. Make signal to all ships. ‘Clear the decks and run out the guns’ ‘All Captains to keep time and report’ Sir”

Snot Morgan turned about and; after his whistle blast began his fancy waving of the two flags until the boy in the tops replied and then passed on the message to the other ships. While all this was going on, Roger turned back to look down onto the main deck.

“Mister Morgan!”

“Aye Sir.”

“Do you have a time piece?”

“No Sir.”

“Then I shall keep time. Mister Morgan; clear the decks and prepare for action.”

Roger Skully raised his voice further so he could be heard all over the upper decks.

“Midshipman Morgan! Blow all hands assemble for action. Mister Morgan! Run out the guns.”

Thomas stood well back from all the action as he watched the ship suddenly jump to life as the deck crew began to clear the decks of any impediments and the crash of the gun ports being opened as the heavy sound of the wooden wheels of the guns rumbled on the newly cleaned decks. At the top of the gangway leading to the below decks area stood another of the midshipmen; he was there to relay orders to the tween decks.

Young powder monkey’s appeared at the run with four bags of powder slung around their neck and piled them just behind the guns. From below deck came the sound of running feet and Thomas saw the first of the forty men that had volunteered to be Marines; they would line up along the centre of the main deck until needed.

Lorenco and some of his men had arrived at the Hacienda only a few days before the ships sailed and all had wanted to join their Patron and had worked hard to get used to climbing the rigging and finding a good place to use their particular skills. There had been quite an expenditure of powder while Lorenco and his men got used to the moving ship and the even more difficult floating targets that were towed from the stern of the ship.

Thomas watched Lorenco and his men scale the ratlines; as yet they were not entirely as proficient as a true sailor but they did make reasonable time up into the rigging and easing into the places they had set for themselves to shoot from.

Craven Morgan’s voice broke the silence that had descended once everyone was in the place.

“Sir, the ship is ready for action.”

“Thank you Mister Morgan. Your time was three minutes fifteen seconds. A good time for your first attempt Mister Morgan, you may congratulate the crew but I want those times down to two minutes before we make the next port on the African coast. Carry on Mister Morgan you can stand down the crew and return to their work assignments.”

“Aye Sir, thank you Sir. The crew will have your time for you of that I can assure you.”

“I’m sure they will Mister Morgan. Midshipman Morgan! Blow the stand-down if you please.”

“Aye Sir.”

Snot blew the whistle in a certain way and Thomas watched as the men relaxed and began to get everything back to order as Roger Skully called Snot once more.

“Midshipman Morgan, make signal to all ships. ‘Report times and stand down crews’”

“Aye Sir, make signal ‘report times and stand down crews’”

For the next five days there were readiness drills. Slowly the times grew less and the looks on the sweating faces of the gun crews showed they were pretty proud of themselves. It was almost midnight on the tenth day at sea when Thomas was awakened by the insistent blowing of a Midshipman’s whistle. The sudden shouting and thunder of feet on the gangways told Thomas that something was afoot.

With bleary eyes and barely being able to see where he placed his feet, Thomas fixed in place his weapons and ran for the quarter deck where he knew Roger Scully would be if an attack was imminent. On finally reaching the upper deck, Thomas made out the bustle of the men below him and saw they were already at battle stations and the guns were running the last foot into the ports ready for firing.

“What is it Mister Scully?”

“Oh, morning Thomas. Sorry I didn’t want to disturb you at this early hour but I needed to see if the men were ready if needed at any time, day or night.”

“So this is just a drill then?”

“Yes, afraid so but they did better than I expected. Mister Morgan!”

“Aye Sir?”

“Two minutes and ten seconds Mister Morgan, well done. Stand down all crews and tell the Bosun to splice the main brace and give a full measure to every man and boy for a job well done.”

“Aye Sir, thank you kindly Sir.”

“Keep up the good work Mister Morgan.”

Thomas was now too much awake to seek his bunk again and so stayed with Roger while the work of a ship under sail went on around them. Roger suddenly called out.

“Signals! Change watch.”

The young midshipman on the deck said.

“Aye Sir.”

He then placed his whistle to his lips and blew a single long blast. From high above where Thomas could see two lit lamps near the top of the mast came an answering blast and then Thomas saw something he was not expecting. Three sailors on the deck took up a rope and wound it once around a small bollard close to the mast. At a second blast from the whistle above, the men began to let the rope run at quite a rate.

Thomas looked up into the vague light in the tops and saw the young signalman coming down at what he thought was a break-neck speed. Around the boys waist was a leather belt with straps that went over his shoulders and had a thick metal ring attached to the back while the boy’s feet ran down the main mast at a reckless speed. Thomas watched as the signalman on the quarter deck ran to the base of the mast and stood waiting.

Once the boy from above had placed his feet on the deck he quickly released the two buckles on the belt and then helped the other boy to put it on and tighten it securely. With a glance at the three men on the rope the new signalman was hoisted at speed up the mast; again at a reckless rate while the newly arrived signalman ran for the quarter deck to replace the boy now high in the rigging.

The whole changeover had taken less than three minutes and both boys were panting slightly but in their new positions. Thomas looked over at Roger and saw he was once again looking at his time piece.

“Well done Midshipman; three minutes exactly, that’s your best time yet. I will expect you and the others to keep that time from now on.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.”

Roger turned back to Thomas.

“So what do you think Thomas, good enough to fight all that may come our way?”

“Indeed Roger. I don’t know how you’ve done it but I think the Royal Navy would even get a surprise if they were to come across us in battle.”

“Well Thomas we can’t be too prepared where we are going. I know some may be only rough pirates but we will also most probably run into the Dutch and they won’t turn tail if they think we are after their trading posts or lanes.”

“I suppose you’re right Roger, still, watching the men tonight gives me great hope that we will handle anything out there. How far have we come so far?”

“So far we have had good winds and even after shortening sail we are still making a good ten knots. The last sighting I took puts us at about two hundred and twenty sea miles per day so I would say we have now covered more than one thousand miles but in a straight line it would be about eight hundred. I think we are still about ten days from our first stop at Luanda. It’s a safe Portuguese port although I have my doubts about their trading practices. From there we will go south to Benguela. After that it will be a long haul down to the great Cape where we can stop for supplies before challenging the great Mir Pacifica.”

“How long do you think it will take to make the cape?”

“If all goes well and we can speed up our supply demands we should be there within three months or possibly less if the winds stay with us.”

Thomas just nodded his understanding and then leaned back against the cabinet that held the signal flags and charts. The temperature of the night had increased and Thomas was finding it difficult to keep his heavy jacket on. High above, the stars were brighter than he had ever seen them and the occasional snap of a sail and the swish of the water passing over the outer hull left him with a peaceful feeling and allowed his mind to wander off in thought.

Thomas looked out over the rolling ocean and saw, much to his surprise, that the seas at night were not just a dark mass that was impenetrable by the human eye but was in fact full of light reflections from the lamps aboard the ship and the twinkling stars above. High in the sky was the faint sliver of a new moon and this also added to the light around the ship.

The ship now held just a little over two hundred souls. Not as many as a fully complimented navy ship would have been but ample for their own needs. With a lesser number in the crew it meant that there was a little more space for each man to sling his hammock and have a small place to put any personal items he carried in his wooden sea chest, if he had one.

During a normal working day, or when at battle stations, the many hammocks were rolled tightly and tied above the gun ports for storage. Not only were they out of the way and kept dry and undamaged but, during a battle they also acted as buffers for any flying splinters created by cannon shot piercing the sides of the ship.

Thomas heard the watch being changed as he watched the dark water slide past the hull. As he turned around to see Lieutenant Williams take the deck, he spied a very sleepy eyed Midshipman join the new Officer with the Captains Chronometer box in his hands.

Thomas watched and listened as the two new watch Officers took over from Roger Scully just as the Bosun rang the bell eight times.

“The ship is yours Mister Williams. Make sure Midshipman Carter is correct with his readings this time. He seems to have the habit of misplacing his decimal point during his calculations.”

“Thank you Captain. I have the ship and I shall indeed keep a close check on Midshipman Carter as you suggest.”

“Thank you Mister Williams. The course is south by south west and the last measure was seven knots.”

“Aye Sir. South by south west at seven knots Sir.”

“Are you coming below Thomas?” Roger Scully asked as he saw his friend still standing at the gunnel and looking out of the dark waters.

“I think I’ll stay here for a little longer Roger, it’s peaceful up here and a little cooler than below decks.”

“Good then I will get to my bunk. We still have a long way to go and there is ample time for rest. I will see you at dawn Mister Williams.”

“Aye Sir.”

Thomas turned back to watching the sea pass by the hull as he half heartedly listened to the two newcomers discuss what needed to be done during their watch. As he stood waiting he saw the two men at the large spoked wheel change over with their replacements and head down to the main deck and then below to their hammocks.

With the lessening of the wind during the night time hours, the ship had now raised full sail so as to pick up even the slightest of breezes. High in the mast top he could just make out the two small lights the signalmen used during the hours of darkness. One had a red glass front and the other one had a bluish green. Above where the small dark figure stood on his platform was mounted a plain white light.

Thomas had watched with interest as he saw the three lights being prepared for the night. They were a rather simple looking affair and it amazed him that they could throw out such a good light for their size. The lamps were a small square tin box with a round glass mirror at the back. In front of the mirror was a small candle holder which had a thick candle mounted in it and when lit it reflected the light outward, on a foggy or misty night, it would look almost like a beam rather than just a surrounding light.

Thomas turned back from watching the sea when he heard Mister Williams speak to Midshipman Carter.

“Take your readings Midshipman Carter and mind the Captain’s words if you please. When your readings are done then place your mark on the chart and let me see how you did.”

“Aye Sir.”

The young Midshipman took up his sextant and began to look for his star sightings. Now and then he would remove the instrument from his eye, note the readings on the callipers and write them in his small note book. Once done Carter would go back to take his second reading and then also take his notes to check his original sightings.

With all done Carter went to the chart and began to work out his measurements and then make small charcoal marks on the chart before standing back and waiting for Mister Williams to come and check them over after he had finished taking his own readings.

Thomas watched as the older man looked over the younger teens work and then stood back with a look of semi satisfaction on his face before he turned to look at the young Midshipman.

“Well young Carter you have improved although you are still one mile off course. Now in the greater scheme of things that is a miniscule amount. But if we put that over a one thousand mile voyage then you would find yourself at least a hundred miles from your intended destination or on top of some reef or sand back. Let me show you where you are making your error.”

Thomas looked on in interest as he saw the older man lean over the chart table and began to explain things to the younger teen.

“This is where you made your error Carter. You have written your sixes much like your eights. You must make your numbers cleaner so you can see and count more clearly. Had you seen that your six is in fact an eight you would have been right on the mark so your ability with the sextant and your numbers is good and correct. Now you just have to better your hand at writing.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good then I will expect to see some improvement over the next few days. Now then call the Mate to take the measure if you please Carter.”

Thomas watched as the young teen Carter went to the front of the quarter deck and called for the 1^st Mate as he opened the top of the chronometer box.

“Mister Mate will you take the measure please?”

“Aye Sir, on your mark Sir.”

Thomas watched the 1^st Mate take up a thin rope which was knotted at even intervals and had a thick weight on one ended. Thomas watched as the 1^st Mate looked up at Midshipman Carter with the line in his hand.

“Mark away Mister Mate.”

The 1^st Mate dropped the line over the side of the ship and carefully counted the knots as they were taken out by the passage of the water. As the Midshipman called out loudly “Mark” the 1^st Mate clamped his hand down on the line and then began to pull it back in while Carter asked him.

“What is the Mark Mister Mate?”

“Six and one half knots Sir.”

“Thank you Mister Mate.” Carter turned back to Mister Williams. “The measure is six and one half knots Sir.”

“Thank you Midshipman Carter. Bosun call the night-watch, I would like all topsails unfurled and clear the third jib if you will. Helmsman, turn one point to the west please.”

“One point west Sir, Aye Sir.”

The business of sailing the ship at its best went on around Thomas as the first faint blush of dawn showed on the far eastern horizon. Thomas now felt it was time to go back below and try to get a few more hours napping before the day got far too hot for such things.

The sun had risen to midmorning when Thomas next arrived on the quarterdeck. Below he saw the large solid figure of George doing what at first looked like a dance on top of the hatch cover. George was stripped to the waist and was moving fluidly as he stepped forward, sideways and backwards in a fine display of footwork. In the large, silent man’s hands was the short spear and tucked into the back of his waistband was the strange stone club.

Thomas stood and watched from above as George went through his strange display and then things changed. As he watched, Thomas saw George begin to twirl and hack with the short spear in strange and complicated patterns. The sweat was dripping from the large man as Thomas stood almost mesmerised by the intricate display on the deck below.

Had Thomas not been watching for himself he would never have thought that such a large man could move with so much purpose and precision. Each and every footstep or hand movement seemed to Thomas’s eyes to be perfectly placed for the next one to follow. The short spear at times became an almost impossible thing to see as it twirled faster than the eye could perceive.

After a half hour with the spear, George stepped to the side of the hatch cover and laid the spear down. Next he stepped back to the centre and removed the stone club from the waistband of his trousers. What followed was another display of power and precision the likes of which Thomas knew he could never repeat. The club work also went on for a half hour before George stopped and stepped back to take up his spear.

For such a large man, Thomas was surprised George was not breathing more heavily than he was. It had been a very intense work out by a man that many would have though incapable of doing so.

Thomas noted that George looked up at him and gave a small smile as he took up both his weapons and went in the direction of his small cabin under the quarter deck. Although George may have desired to take a place with the rest of the crew, Roger had insisted that he have a small cabin as a paying traveller.

Each morning unknown to Thomas, George had been doing his strange exercises just to get back his former ability with his natural weapons. There may well be a need for them once he returned to his homeland but he was glad he still had almost nine months to practice before that event happened.

Thomas had now gotten used to rising early before the sun rose in the east so he could watch the arrival of each new day. The effect of being at sea gave a new aspect to his jaded vision during the war and it was now a time not to miss any of the dawn’s freshness.

It was two days later that the first alarm happened. Thomas was once again on the quarterdeck beside Roger when a loud yell from the crow’s nest mounted on the main mast just below the one holding the signaller in the tops.

“Ahoy the deck; Sail Ho!”

Roger looked up into the shrouds and replied.

“Where away?”

“Five points to larboard Sir.”

Roger Scully reached for his large spy glass and stepped to the port side gunnel. After raising his glass he took a long look and then turned to Thomas and passed over the glass as he called out orders.

“Midshipman! Blow all crew to battle stations. Mister Williams set full sail and steer five points to larboard.”

While Roger was giving orders Thomas saw Snot Morgan appear at the run and stop beside Roger.

“Midshipman Morgan, make signal to all ships. ‘Battle stations, steer five points to larboard. Diego to port of target and Marcelo to starboard; the Scully will take the centre.”

“Aye Sir. ‘All ships to battle stations; steer five points to larboard. Diego to port of target and Marcelo to starboard; Scully will take the centre’.”

Snot Morgan blew his whistle in the planned way and then went to work with his two flags as the Midshipman above copied his flags to the other two ships. Thomas turned and watched the ship come to battle stations and was impressed at the swiftness as Lorenco’s men took to the rigging and the newly promoted Guerrillas took their place at the centre of the main deck.

The rest of the crew went about getting the ship ready for action and taking their places either in the rigging to change the sails if needed or below decks where they may be needed. Thomas saw that Roger had now been silent for a few minutes as he watched his ship preparing. Thomas thought this would be a good time to ask why the single ship which was now showing a lot closer than before.

The sudden surge in speed of the large frigate was now more noticeable as they quickly drew closer to the far off ship.

“Captain! Why the sudden need to close with that ship? It looks like a simple trader to me; what made you want to stop her?” Thomas asked Roger.

“Take up the glass again Thomas and tell me what colours she is flying?”

Thomas did as asked and looked again at the ship that was now so much closer. The three Frigates were sailing at least twice as fast as the other ship and closing rapidly. Thomas looked through the glass and finally put it down and turned to Roger.

“I can’t see any colours at all. Why is that? I was led to believe all ships flew their colours at all times?”

“That’s the reason I want to look her over, I think she’s a black birder and is trying to get slaves to the new world and if so I’m going to stop her. I have never believed in slavery Thomas and I’m not going to let this pass if I can avoid it.”

“If she is Roger then I’m with you.”

Roger took up his glass again and the curses he uttered brought a shocked look to Thomas’s face.

“What…what is it?”

“She’s definitely a slaver. Those damned bastards are throwing their cargo overboard, chains and all. Mister Morgan! Fire a shot over her bows if you please.”

Roger looked high up into the rigging until he spied the man he wanted. Lifting his hands to his mouth he called in a loud bellow with his rather rusty Portuguese, “Colonel Souza! Your men are to fire on any of the crew when in range, do not wait for orders.”

Thomas saw Lorenco high in the rigging lift a hand and then turn to shout to his men. The MSC Roger Scully was now bearing down on the wallowing ship and closing the distance with every second that passed. With the Diego and Marcelo slowly overhauling the slaver to port and starboard. The boom of one of the bow chasers made Thomas jump with surprise as Craven Morgan let the ship know they were now close on their heels.

Thomas no longer needed the glass to plainly see the crew of the slaver were still trying to throw their cargo over the side. The heavy chains dragging the hapless slaves quickly into the depths of the ocean. It was mass murder on a huge scale and made Thomas wonder what could make another human being to do such a thing to others. From above Thomas suddenly heard the sound of shot from the upper rigging.

Thomas’s face was pale as he watched in horror as more slaves were roughly thrown over the side. Even as members of the crew dropped to the firing from above. Thomas turned his horror filled visage towards Roger. The question was a simple, single word, “Why?”

Roger looked at the horror on Thomas’s face and with a grim look replied, “It’s a certain death sentence for any ship owner to be caught trading in slaves Thomas, and I plan to make sure it’s carried out. What they are doing is nothing short of murder.”

By this time the ship was well within range of the wallowing and slower ship and yet the other crew was still trying to discard its human cargo.

“Midshipman Morgan, make signal to the Marcelo. ‘Fire five rounds of chain shot at rigging’ when complete select twenty men for a boarding party and make ready to attack when I come alongside.”

“Aye Sir. Make signal to Marcelo; ‘fire five rounds chain shot at rigging’ and then prepare a boarding party. Aye.”

Snot carried out his signal work then jumped to the main deck and began to select the men he wanted for his boarding party. In the rigging above the deck Lorenco and his men were still hard at work and the number of the crew on the other ship was now drastically less. Those few left were now cowering under the cover of the gunnels and all attempts at throwing the rest of their human cargo over the side had stopped.

The five rounds of chain shot practically stopped the slaver in its tracks, even though three of the shots passed through the rigging without doing a lot of damage. The other two shots had been right on the mark and the main mast was now lying half over the side and trailing in the water.

Roger Scully brought the ship in close and a number of the crew threw grappling hooks over and with sheer raw strength pulled the larger ship up right beside the other one. Snot Morgan did not waste any time as he led his twenty men over the side and down onto the deck of the slaver.

Thomas was almost gagging at the stench that was coming from the other ship but he did not miss the large dark figure of George as he also jumped over the gunnel and landed on the other deck in perfect balance and with his strange weapons ready. The look he saw in George’s eyes boded no good for anyone who decided to go against him. It was to be later that Thomas found out that George had an even lower opinion of slavers than Roger Scully.

Thomas noted that a large number of the crew were pulling their neck ties up over the mouths and noses as the stench grew now that the ships were stopped and the full force of the acrid smell hit them all. He was quick to pull his own handkerchief from his pocket and also cover his own nose and mouth. Roger Scully called over to Snot Morgan.

“Midshipman Morgan! Any crew who try to resist are to be shot without warning. Next send ten men below to inspect the holds and report what they find.”

“Aye Sir” Snot replied as he pointed to ten of the men to go below decks. Thomas saw that they had also now covered their faces as best they could before going below. A few minutes passed before the men came back to report. Thomas did not see George suddenly run to the stern of the ship and duck down in a far off corner nor did he see the big man stand up with what appeared to be a black sagging bundle in his arms.

“What have you below decks Midshipman Morgan?”

“Sir the men report that there are twenty seven still alive but in bad condition and there are about thirty dead; most seem to have died of disease and others have been shot or stabbed.”

“See if you can bring those alive up on deck and get your men to assemble what remains of the crew below the quarterdeck.”

“Aye Sir.”

Thomas stood silently as Roger took over the inspection of the slaver. What his friend had in mind for the rest of the ship’s crew was anybodies guess but he did not think it was going to be good.

George clambered over the gunnel with his burden which Thomas could now see was a very undernourished and small boy of about nine or ten years old although his condition could have meant he was a little older. The boy’s ribs were showing and the stench and detritus that clung to his small frame made Thomas wonder how the boy could still be breathing.

With the other two ships standing off to guard the Roger Scully as she inspected the slaver, Roger was able to only concentrate on the job before him. Thomas watched as the survivors struggled up from below decks. All were as naked as the day they were born and all were in much the same state as the little boy Thomas had seen in George’s arms.

Thomas would never be able to understand how people could subject others to such brutality but for now there was much to do. The least of which was to decide the fate of the crew of the slaver. The Captain had been taken alive although he was sporting a wound in the left arm from one of Lorenco’s marksmen. There was also the first mate and the rest were just crewmen and numbered eleven but one look at them and Thomas decided he would not trust a single one even if he had a pistol at the man’s head.

Roger spoke up before much more was said or done.

“Mister Williams! Take the carpenter aboard and strike those chains immediately then have someone bucket water up so they can be washed down into something resembling a human being. Bosun make up thirteen ropes and gather a crew for the yards, three men to a rope.”

Thomas could now see where this was leading and could only stand and agree with what Roger Scully was about to do. As the sound of the slaves chains were echoing across the still waters, Thomas watched the Bosun and a number of men begin to fashion lengths of rope into hangman’s nooses. From the sounds of discord from below the quarterdeck on the slaver it was obvious the Bosun and his helpers had also been noticed by the other Captain.

The Slaver Captain ignored the men standing with loaded muskets and jumped to his feet with a loud roar towards Roger Scully. The Captain was speaking in Portuguese so it was obvious where he had come from. Luanda was meant to be their next port of call and that may mean trouble if the powers that controlled the African town had anything to do with it.

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to stand judgment on my ship or the trade I ply. Damn you Mister you will not put your ropes around the necks of my crew.’

Roger listened to the Captain and then turned to Lieutenant Williams.

“Mister Williams, please come back aboard and take command of the Roger Scully until I am finished with the slaver.”

“Aye Captain.”

Thomas stood on the quarterdeck and watched as the two Senior Officers changed places. Once Roger Scully was on the deck of the slaver Thomas saw a difference side of the friend he had known for so long.

Walking up to Snot Morgan Roger put his hand out and said, “Midshipman Morgan, one of your pistols if you please?”

Thomas watched as Snot took out his double barrelled pistol and handed it over to Roger.

“Is it fully charge Midshipman Morgan?”

“Aye Sir.”

Roger then walked over to the furious Captain as he stood above the other members of his crew.

“You Sir, and I say that loosely, are a coward of the lowest type. A purveyor of human misery. I will tell you here and now that every member of your crew will swing this day for your nefarious trade. However you Captain, will not suffer the same fate. For you I have another fate.”

Thomas saw the look of anger in the slave Captains eyes and it was one of triumph as he realised he would live to see another day, or at least he hoped he would. The slave Captains hopes came to a very abrupt end as Roger raised the loaded pistol and shot him in the forehead without a qualm or even batting an eyelid. Next he turned to the Bosun whom had come aboard with his men and carrying the rope nooses.

“Bosun! Have your men run the ropes over the arms that are still useable; each and every man of this crew is to swing before the half hour is up. Midshipman Morgan you will make ready to fire the ship on my orders, the slaves once released are to be put aboard our ship and given all and any assistance we can provide. See to it Midshipman.”

“Aye Sir.”

The hanging of the eleven crew and last Officer was undertaken with a few thumps and curses as some fought not to have their necks stretched but the end result was the same and all the bodies swung from the surviving yardarms well before the time was up. Roger Scully went back aboard his own ship once the last man was aloft and his thrashing about had come to a halt.

Roger called back to Snot Morgan and the few men left on the slaver.

“Midshipman Morgan, you may fire the ship and come back aboard at your convenience.”

“Aye Sir.”

Thomas watched as Snot and the three men ran to the powder fuses they had trailed out on the deck which they lit and then ran for the gunnels and jumped aboard the Roger Scully as the ropes and grappling hooks were freed and dragged aboard while others of the crew pushed off with boat hooks and the sails filled with the fresh breeze that had arisen.

The Roger Scully was a good three cables away when the slave ship suddenly convulsed and then the sound of the multiple explosions resounded across the open seas. Roger barely glanced backward as the ship sailed on into the late morning sunshine. The crew was quiet as they all spent a little time reflecting on what had happened that morning. If any of them doubted Roger Scully’s toughness they had just seen how hard the young looking commander of their small fleet could be when there was a need.

From his place up on the quarterdeck, Thomas could now view the scene below where the ex-slaves had now gathered. The only exception was George and his small frail cargo. The man had taken a place in the shade and well away from the others as he tended the young boy who was now as clean as he was liable to get for now. The cook had made a thick gruel with a little meat for the slaves and was now in the process of giving out bowls of the food to the starving ex-slaves.

The rest of the crew were now busy trying to get the best out of the ship as the early breeze began to rise to a good stiff wind that had the MSC Roger Scully once again finding her pace as the wide clear skies looked down on the small tableau.

The ex-slaves ate quickly and Thomas saw that many were surprised to be offered more once they had finished. Thomas tried to look them over as best he could from his position on the upper deck. Of the five females two of the younger ones appeared to have been badly abused by the crew of the slaver. The other three looked to be older and in a little better state. All the men were aged from early teens to mid twenties as best as Thomas could guess and he noticed that all but the youngest one had three deep scars on each cheek.

Thomas heard a voice close to his side.

“So Thomas, what do you think of a life on the open seas now?”

“Not quite what I expected Roger. I know slavery was going on but had never thought there were those who could be so inhuman as the Captain certainly was.”

“As much as I hate to say it Thomas, but it is almost a normal event for the slavers to toss their cargo if they come under suspicion on the high seas. Damn it all Thomas, no man has the right to enslave another regardless of where he may come from. I find the whole thing totally distasteful and will do all in my power to help bring it to an end.”

“I can only agree with you Roger. I thought what I saw from the French on the peninsula during the war was bad enough, but this is totally barbaric.”

“Well we may not have done much but at least we have saved a few souls from a fate worse than death. The problem now is what to do with them. We can’t take them into Luanda as they will just be put back into chains and sent off on another ship and I have no idea if there is another town somewhere on this coast to leave them in safety.”

“Why don’t we try to find out where they come from or even if they know where to be put ashore?”

“And just how do we do that if I may ask. I don’t think anyone on this ship knows their language?”

“I suppose we could try making a sort of sign language. It may take time but we have plenty of that if you slow our speed and delay our arrival in Luanda.”

“Yes I think that could be a good idea… wait while I set it in motion.”

Roger turned back to the main deck and called out.

“Mister Mate, all hands to shorten sail to mains only. Midshipman Carter! Make signal to the fleet. ‘Shorten sail to mains only and station at line astern’.”

“Aye Sir. ‘Shorten sail to mains only and take station at line astern’ Aye Sir.”

Thomas watched enthralled once again as the young midshipmen did their new type of signalling. It was still all a mystery to him how they could so easily make sense of a couple of waving flags, or at night two coloured lanterns. Thomas turned back to watching the ex-slaves on the deck below. All of them had finished eating and he noticed that the five females were sitting a little separate from the men and of those, all except one were sitting on the deck close to the gunnels where a little shade could still be found.

The single young man sitting at the centre of the group was seated on a coil of rope and this positioned him a little above the others. Thomas tried to decide if this meant he was of some importance or just a happenstance. It was something he would have to find out for himself when the chance arose.

Thomas could now see the George and his small charge were sitting in the shade below the quarter deck where the silent large man was spoon feeding the smaller boy. The boy was as black as coal but his eyes were wide open and did not waver from the strange tattooed face above him as he swallowed each spoon full as it was provided for him. Thomas was broken from his reverie by Roger Scully’s voice once again.

“Well that should give us a few extra days at sea. I would estimate we are now making no more than five or six knots. Now then, as to your idea; how the hell do we find one of those men who can understand what we are trying to say?”

“Beats me Roger, but there must be a way. Have you noticed that none of them has made a move towards George or the boy he has rescued?”

“No I can’t say I have really noticed what with all that has been going on. Why do you mention it?”

“I don’t know… it’s something I just noticed. I wonder if the boy is not one of their tribe. Even he doesn’t seem to want to join the others and is quite happy to sit with George.”

“It may be but how do we find out for sure? We have to find a way to talk to them, what do you suggest? I seem to remember that the best ideas during the war came from that head of yours.”

“Well right off the top of my head I can’t really think of a thing. Give me some quiet time and I’ll see what comes to mind over night.”

“Yes that should do nicely. I think it’s time we try to find a few spare clothes for our new guests, we can’t have them walking around showing their parts to all and sundry. Especially the females. God only knows what the crew will be thinking if they are tempted for too much longer.”

Thomas smiled at Roger’s comment and turned his thoughts to the new problem that had arisen. How do you communicate with a people that had no common language and he was also sure they would not even have any similar customs. Thomas looked over the railing at the prone figure of George below him. The man was sitting cross-legged with the boy in his lap and the feeding was over and the small boy looked to be fast asleep with his head resting on George’s shoulder.

Thomas gave a small smile to himself as he watched the simple scene below him. Perhaps George had finally found something worth his time. It was something he would have to watch over the months ahead, assuming the boy stayed with the large rough looking man who had taken a shine to the small frail figure.

Thomas was about to leave the quarterdeck and go below to get out of the bright hot sun; he was sure Fairley would have found some way to get a little breeze into the cabin for him to take a rest. As before Thomas wondered at the ability of Fairley to be able to make the most of every situation.

As he was about to leave something caught Thomas’s eye. Perhaps it was a sign that he was meant to see. The young ex-slave who was sitting on the rope coil had made a gesture to one of the older men when he was offered a mug of water. Thomas noted that the older man seemed to make sure he kept his head below that of the younger man. Did this indicate the younger man was of some importance? It was something worth investigating. If the younger man was held in high esteem then there was a chance he may have enough sway to help Thomas and Roger with their problem of what to do with the ex-slaves.

Thomas turned back to the stairs leading to his quarters, he would have to give this all some thought before he made a decision. If he was wrong it could mean offending one of the older men who just may be the real head of the survivors. Thomas went off to his cabin in search of some peace and quiet and to put his mind to work on their present problem.

TBC

You are reading Book 3 of Thomas Markings incredible journey. Let Arthur know what you think of this latest chapter. Arthur at CastleRoland dot Net