Port of Errors (26 page)

Boarding the Sentry from the starboard side, Scurvy, along with all who could follow, abandoned the Weeping Lady, being of no real offensive use in the fight. Without leadership over the few remaining pirates on board, the Weeping Lady was barely holding on. In addition, William’s Revenge continued to pummel the Weeping Lady with sporadic blows, until she finally caught fire and could take no more. The Weeping Lady began sink, as the remaining men continued to fight with what little resource they had left.

“No mercy,” yelled Scurvy as he boarded the Sentry. “Kill’em all!”

Roger’s Jolly, though damaged, sailed around the Sentry to try and rescue those still aboard the Weeping Lady. Admiral Flynn and his crew were too distracted by the pirates aboard his ship to care about Roger’s Jolly or the Weeping Lady any longer.

Admiral Flynn was crippled but ready to fight, bracing his body against the aft mast. “Fire at will,” he ordered. An array of bullets ricocheted about. Scurvy’s men hid from the barrage where possible and awaited orders.

“Now!” yelled Red Jack, trying to show his qualities of leadership in battle. Only a handful of men followed. But they were stopped in their pursuit, when they faced three cannons aimed and ready.

“Blast them to smithereens!” order Admiral Flynn.

All cannons ignited at once, simultaneously exploding into one massive billow of smoke, slightly jolting the sailors standing just behind. The explosion threw Red and his men off their feet in separate directions. Many flew into the water. Those who lived squirmed as they lay moaning in agony.

Scurvy, being an expert shot, quickly took aim at the First Mate, who was shouting orders. With the twitch of a finger, Scurvy’s doghead snapped down, igniting the chamber that held the fifty-caliber steel ball and forcing it through the barrel with significant force. Noticing a spark on Scurvy’s pistol, the first mate felt the bullet shatter his two front teeth and graze his palate. Entering his nasal cavity, the bullet exited through the occipital lobe of his brain sending fragments behind him. Amazingly, he was still alive. Now blind from the damaged portion of brain, his nose began to bleed as he stumbled on his feet, waving his pistol about. Disoriented, he incoherently fired his weapon, tagging the head of his Second Mate, who was standing with his back to him, completely unaware. He immediately fell dead as the First Mate finally went to his knees. All the more remarkable, the First Mate was still alive though, now, violently convulsing.

Scurvy commanded the rest of his men, “Fire at will!”

Admiral Flynn shouted, “Take cover!” But none of his men were ready. And nearly a dozen of them fell dead.

Red Jack was dazed, but in fair condition. Scurvy and Captain Garrison ran passed him with their men. They shouted wordless cries of war, in mental preparation for hand-to-hand combat. The remaining English sailors and officers charged in retaliation. Everyone clashed at the center of the main deck. The sound of steel to steel resonated through the air. Gunner boasted the first kill with a lunge of his cutlass. Red Jack had no idea which way he was facing as he flung his sword wildly about until he finally came to and joined the fight.

Captain Nokes maneuvered William’s Revenge alongside the Sentry, ordering his men to fire their pistols and muskets at only clear targets, unwilling to risk his fellow sailors.

Black-Hearted continued tirelessly in his struggle. He was locked in battle with both the London and the Crimson Reef. Feverishly, but successfully, he was keeping the two crews from boarding.

The Crimson Reef and the London watched on as the Rogue made its move. “He’s going to force one of us against the rocks!” concluded Captain Stirvin. “Bring this ship around portside, this instant!” the Crimson Reef was turned in a manner that could avoid a collision with the rocky shore. But in so doing he would be forced to help the Rogue push the London into the rocks, though he had no other choice. The London tried to swing around in an effort to face the Rogue and avoid disaster. But as they did, the Rogue also turned to port purposefully striking her bow to bow, forcing most men off their feet and to the deck.

“Straight ahead, force her to shore!” ordered Black-Hearted. Everyone braced for a second impact. The Rogue slammed into the London’s portside stern and the wind was in Black-Hearted’s favor. His sails filled with a strong burst of wind, driving the London with a powerful drive. With the help of her own momentum, the London’s stern was forced inward of the jagged reef, as Captain Stirvin began to come out of his rotation. He wished to face black-Hearted, bow-to-bow as the London helplessly drifted into the shallow part of the reef, snapping her keel against the sharp rocks and puncturing her hull across the starboard side.

“We’re losing her!” cried Captain Mac. “Abandon Ship!”

The London rotated further into the reef, with the help of the wind. She then rolled to one side. Every sailor aboard followed orders and deserted the ship.

Captain Mac glanced over the starboard wall where the water was most shallow. The darkness of the day hid the fact that the water was as shallow as it was, giving the illusion of a full body of water. Captain Mac stood atop the gunwale and dove, headfirst, hoping to slice safely through the water. Just as he approached the water’s edge, he noticed the exposed reef, as the water systematically receded. There was no time to cry for help. He closed his eyes and stretched his hands out to brake his fall. Within seconds his flailing hands smacked the reef, shattering his bones against the rough, razor-sharp coral and rock. His arms twisted in a contorted distortion, as his face struck the reef between them. His legs thrust, heals overhead, snapping his spine in one quick and painful motion. So clean and sharp was the break, the rest of the men could hear the echoing snap. The swells came up once more, crashing against his torn and broken body, the pull of which sucked his dead body off of the reef and out to sea.

Cheers from the Rogue burst out in excitement as they witnessed the London turn over. “Turn this ship about! Starboard, Maties! Starboard!” directed Black-Hearted, “To the fight!” The men quickly turned the ship around. The Crimson Reef faced the Rogue, as she completed her rotation.

Now facing one another, the Rogue and the Crimson Reef pulled up to each other’s starboard side, continuing the conflict.

Katherine and Isabel were still about a four-hour journey from Port Lorne by single sail skiff. Suddenly Isabel stood, looking a far off, catching sight of a large vessel sailing toward them.

Nathan stood as well, “Is something the matter, Miss Isabel?”

“No, nothin’s the matter,” stated Isabel. As she abruptly, and without warning, snatched his pistol, she pushed him off balance. Caught off-guard, Nathan was unable to regain his balance. Sensing this, Isabel simply gave him a strong shove into the water. “Now, start swimming before I make easy prey of you for the sharks.”

Nathan swam a little ways off and noticed a long rope trailing behind. Isabel was too busy waving the ship over to give any more thought to Nathan, who seized the opportunity to snag the end of the rope and tag along for the ride.

Still close enough to Isabel’s skiff, Samuel turned to Katherine, callously grinning. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. No one can save you now.”

She screamed for her life, but it was no use. Samuel steered his skiff toward Isabel’s, where he urged her to board.

Isabel noticed Nathan, but with limited time all she could do was get rid of the oars, slash the sail and fire a round into the bottom of the boat. Once Samuel sailed off with the women, Nathan hurried to the sinking skiff and crawled inside shivering from the ice-cold water. With no paddle and a springing leak, he was obliged to plug the hole with a finger and hope for someone to come along before it was too late.

“What have you done?” asked Katherine. “Why are you doing this?”

“Can you see that ship on the horizon?” replied Isabel. “My brother and I have some unfinished business. You wouldn’t understand.”

Samuel continued to steer the skiff toward the ship as it approached. Nathan did his best to follow, but his best wasn’t good enough.

Chapter XVII

Now that the Weeping Lady had sunk, Roger’s Jolly continued to sail around the Sentry, dodging William’s Revenge while firing an occasional round. The Sentry retaliated with random bursts, minimally effective in the fight.

Still aboard the Sentry, Gunner was shirtless and bleeding but enthusiastically driving his cutlass forward. As Stephen and Red Jack fought bravely by Gunner’s side on the same deck, Scurvy came face-to-face with Admiral Flynn. With all other high ranking officers now dead, Admiral Flynn was the only voice of command. “Fight men, fight!” he bellowed, as he limped toward Scurvy. “Never give in, for Queen and country!” When he was close enough, he lunged toward Scurvy with his sword above his head. Shouting like an animal, Scurvy swung a blocking thrust toward Admiral Flynn’s leading edge.

Beyond the boundaries of each ship, in the water below, a countless number of sharks were attracted by the bloody commotion. In a frenzied feast, they thrashed about, ripping apart the helpless and wounded men splashing about in the water. The sounds of their chilling cries were more than blood-curdling.

In the course of his engagement with Admiral Flynn, Scurvy made a dangerous mistake, taking a sudden blow to the body from his position on the quarterdeck. He flipped over the gunwale and directly into the shark-infested waters. A sailor frantically struggling in the water grabbed Scurvy in an effort to stay afloat. Weak from his wound, Scurvy was unable to contain the situation and began to slump below the water’s surface. Sure to attract more sharks, Scurvy’s belly began to seep blood.

Spotting Scurvy as he fell overboard, Red Jack, Scurvy’s new quartermaster, continued to race around the Sentry to his aid. William’s Revenge could not maneuver well enough or fast enough to completely keep up. Without hesitation, Red Jack jumped from Roger’s Jolly in an effort to save Scurvy. Coming up directly behind the sailor that was pulling Scurvy under, Red Jack placed his arms around the sailor’s neck, trying to rip the stubborn sailor off of Scurvy. Letting go with his right arm, Red Jack placed a dagger to the sailor’s back. With brutal force he drove the edge of his dagger deep into his back, breaking his spine with several powerful blows.

Now unable to feel anything below his neck, the sailor’s grip automatically loosened, allowing Scurvy to come up for air. Pushing the sailor aside as he floated face-up, Red Jack took hold of Scurvy and swam to Roger’s Jolly. Sailing ever closer, William’s revenge continued to add extra stress to the situation. Reaching for the rope hanging along Roger’s Jolly’s hull, Red Jack took hold. Several crewmembers on the main deck fought to pull them up, until suddenly there was no more tension on the rope. The men pulling unexpectedly fell back onto the deck.

Feeling an unexpected tug on his right femur and a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before, Red Jack had to let go of the rope and Scurvy. As he drifted slowly away from Scurvy with an expression of curious distress, he was abruptly jerked under by a twelve foot shark. With the dagger still in hand, Red Jack plunged the blade again and again into the side of its head, unwilling to give-in. When the shark finally did let go, Red Jack burst through the surface of the water and swam back to Scurvy and the ship. As Red Jack held tight to the rope he was able to hold on with both hands, walking up the side of the hull with Scurvy face-down, slung over his shoulder.

Scurvy could see the sailor floating face-up in the water and noticed a few strange twitching movements. Suddenly a fleshy ankle and foot floated to the surface by the sailor’s face. Juddering with more intensity, the sailor’s body convulsed. But by his confused expression, he seemed to be quite aware and in no pain. Soon an arm and hand floated to the surface at eye level wearing his ring. Extremely perplexed, he could do nothing but wait for the inevitable. He soon began bobbing up and down, revealing only a bust. Blood oozed from his mouth as he calmly closed his eyes, sinking below the surface amongst a frenzy of movement.

Finally hoisted to the main deck, Scurvy was carried to the captain’s bedchamber to recover from his deep wound. Red Jack, though bleeding from the bite, had no major damage and resumed his command of Roger’s Jolly on behalf of Captain Garrison.

Captain Garrison was still on the Sentry, but now crossing swords with two sailors, simultaneously. Thinking quickly, Captain Garrison took hold of a pulley that was hanging off the riggings and thrust it forward, forcing one of the sailors overboard and taking the other by complete surprise. He then took the opportunity to unleash a powerful back-arm blow with his sword, slitting the second sailor’s throat. He then ran to the quarterdeck to confront Admiral Flynn.

As their blades met, each man pressed his sword against the other in a test of strength.
“You think you stand a chance?” teased Admiral Flynn, as he pulled apart. “Scurvy was easy,” he continued, thrusting his sword with a downward motion toward Captain Garrison.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” countered Captain Garrison, blocking the wild swing, “You fight like a wench.”

As they continued to fight, Captain Garrison eventually stumbled to the ground. Admiral Flynn attempted to deliver a fatal blow, just as Captain Garrison grabbed hold of a steel cannon ball and threw it as hard as he could, connecting with the admiral’s wooden leg. The steel ball snapped it in two, like a twig, sending Admiral Flynn toward the deck, where Captain Garrison sat.