In the growing dusk we caught sight of the northern coast of Jamaica, after
swiftly passing through the Bahamas and the windward Passage without
trouble and now their was only the Eastern coast of the island to navigate
before we came across Port Royal. After a few false starts due to Navy
ships patrolling the entrance to Kingston Harbour we anchored in a
concealed bay.
"To the boats my men!" Sparrow strode forward, but was pulled back sharply by two heavyset slaves. An embarrassed silence drew over the deck and I warily drew behind the safety of an upturned boat.
"What's up lads?" he grinned uneasily, his gold tooth flashing in the midship lantern. Another slave pulled out his cutlass and at the sound of the sword being unsheathed Sparrow began to struggle "Let go of me, you bastards!" He kicked and writhed; feet completely off the deck. "We 'ad an accord, you double-crossing buggers. We 'ad an accord! 'Ave you cheating buggers never 'eard of the code?"
"Stop them!" Anamaria Stepped out of the galley, calling to the crew scattered about the deck as she drew her own sword. "Whot's the matter with you, 'as the sun addled yer senses? Get those villans off 'im!"
But no one moved. Anamaria came to a halt, a grim realisation taking over me as I observed the motionless crew. It was Cannonball Jeff who finally spoke up, grinning hideously and showing the gaps in his teeth.
"The thing is, mate – we've 'ad a mighty 'ard time of it, last couple o' months and we can't 'elp but think that Sparrow's been the cause o' most of it. 'Im bein' the Capt'n an' all." The others quietly nodded in agreement, warily eyeing Anamaria's sword. "So when our mates 'ere offered us a share in 'is bounty if we 'anded Sparrow over to the authorities – well it's gold, which is more than we've seen fer a good stretch wiv' 'im now." Jeff finished with a flourish.
"We're settin' sail t'moro, Ana – you can come wiv' us if yer like." A young sailor, Pedro spoke up. "Gibbs is comin'."
Anamaria gripped her sword, her other hand hovering at her hip – where I knew she kept a pistol, since the mutiny. I held my breath, what would happen to me if Ana chose to join the crew – would I ever get home? She scanned the crowd that had gathered on deck – the crew with their vicious marlinespikes and pistols and the slaves with muscles rippling from years of hard labour on sugar plantations. I knew she was weighing up her chances and even I could see it was remote – there must have been over forty grown men – against one small woman, however skilled with a sword she may be.
"Sorry Jack." She stepped to the side of Jeff, who beamed, and looked rather like a pig. Sparrow hung his head and would not meet her eye "Catherine, come 'ere." She held out her hand to me. I stared at her amazed as I stepped out from my hiding place; she loved him, surely? How could she do this? And the crew, he'd saved them, from that hell-hole of a brig and bargained with the slaves. I looked around at the men, stony faced but standing tall – none were ashamed of what they had done. I realised I knew them not, they were cold and cruel, like the lives they led and I dared not stand against them. I know what you must feel about of me at that point, but think on my situation. I had tasted Caribbean air and I longed for home; no Captain, however clever could give that to me locked in a cell.
I watched as the slaves dragged Sparrow off into a boat and rowed ashore, his raving becoming fainter and fainter. My heart seemed to tighten as I watched the boat fade into the gloom. I felt short of breath and tears pricked at my eyes. I turned away as Anamaria took my hand. She had no tears but I felt her hand shake as it gripped hard on mine.
****
One slave returned before dawn broke, with a small chest. I did not care to see how much Sparrow's death had profited the crew and remained in my cabin. It was going to be a hot day, and I lay sweltering on my bunk; my head full of grief for Sparrow and uncertainty for my future. How was I to get home now? I could not trust the crew, even Anamaria; who betrayed the love of her life. I pulled myself up sharply – when had I ever been worried about love? It was a weak force compared to money, status or power. Yet I could not stop thinking about love, and honour and what was right. This was a time when I should have been thinking about making my escape and my mind was filled with fancy and frippery. As the sun rose and it's light poured into my cabin I realised whose escape I was planning.
Cursing my weak mind, I quietly slipped to the deck, luckily the crew were all below; I could hear their arguments over the sharing of the gold – it seemed the price on Sparrow's head had been less than they thought. My hands shook as I un-battened a boat and I cursed each creak of the block and tackle which lowered the ship overboard. I climbed into the boat and let the lines out until I hit the water with a splash the crew couldn't have failed to hear. The dinner knife I had brought with me proved hopeless against the thick, damp rope and it sawed against them like Sparrow's file against the bars of the brig – and in my panic I felt it took just as long. Finally they broke and before I quite knew what I was doing I was dragging on the heavy oars and rowing steadily to the direction of Port Royal.
"To the boats my men!" Sparrow strode forward, but was pulled back sharply by two heavyset slaves. An embarrassed silence drew over the deck and I warily drew behind the safety of an upturned boat.
"What's up lads?" he grinned uneasily, his gold tooth flashing in the midship lantern. Another slave pulled out his cutlass and at the sound of the sword being unsheathed Sparrow began to struggle "Let go of me, you bastards!" He kicked and writhed; feet completely off the deck. "We 'ad an accord, you double-crossing buggers. We 'ad an accord! 'Ave you cheating buggers never 'eard of the code?"
"Stop them!" Anamaria Stepped out of the galley, calling to the crew scattered about the deck as she drew her own sword. "Whot's the matter with you, 'as the sun addled yer senses? Get those villans off 'im!"
But no one moved. Anamaria came to a halt, a grim realisation taking over me as I observed the motionless crew. It was Cannonball Jeff who finally spoke up, grinning hideously and showing the gaps in his teeth.
"The thing is, mate – we've 'ad a mighty 'ard time of it, last couple o' months and we can't 'elp but think that Sparrow's been the cause o' most of it. 'Im bein' the Capt'n an' all." The others quietly nodded in agreement, warily eyeing Anamaria's sword. "So when our mates 'ere offered us a share in 'is bounty if we 'anded Sparrow over to the authorities – well it's gold, which is more than we've seen fer a good stretch wiv' 'im now." Jeff finished with a flourish.
"We're settin' sail t'moro, Ana – you can come wiv' us if yer like." A young sailor, Pedro spoke up. "Gibbs is comin'."
Anamaria gripped her sword, her other hand hovering at her hip – where I knew she kept a pistol, since the mutiny. I held my breath, what would happen to me if Ana chose to join the crew – would I ever get home? She scanned the crowd that had gathered on deck – the crew with their vicious marlinespikes and pistols and the slaves with muscles rippling from years of hard labour on sugar plantations. I knew she was weighing up her chances and even I could see it was remote – there must have been over forty grown men – against one small woman, however skilled with a sword she may be.
"Sorry Jack." She stepped to the side of Jeff, who beamed, and looked rather like a pig. Sparrow hung his head and would not meet her eye "Catherine, come 'ere." She held out her hand to me. I stared at her amazed as I stepped out from my hiding place; she loved him, surely? How could she do this? And the crew, he'd saved them, from that hell-hole of a brig and bargained with the slaves. I looked around at the men, stony faced but standing tall – none were ashamed of what they had done. I realised I knew them not, they were cold and cruel, like the lives they led and I dared not stand against them. I know what you must feel about of me at that point, but think on my situation. I had tasted Caribbean air and I longed for home; no Captain, however clever could give that to me locked in a cell.
I watched as the slaves dragged Sparrow off into a boat and rowed ashore, his raving becoming fainter and fainter. My heart seemed to tighten as I watched the boat fade into the gloom. I felt short of breath and tears pricked at my eyes. I turned away as Anamaria took my hand. She had no tears but I felt her hand shake as it gripped hard on mine.
****
One slave returned before dawn broke, with a small chest. I did not care to see how much Sparrow's death had profited the crew and remained in my cabin. It was going to be a hot day, and I lay sweltering on my bunk; my head full of grief for Sparrow and uncertainty for my future. How was I to get home now? I could not trust the crew, even Anamaria; who betrayed the love of her life. I pulled myself up sharply – when had I ever been worried about love? It was a weak force compared to money, status or power. Yet I could not stop thinking about love, and honour and what was right. This was a time when I should have been thinking about making my escape and my mind was filled with fancy and frippery. As the sun rose and it's light poured into my cabin I realised whose escape I was planning.
Cursing my weak mind, I quietly slipped to the deck, luckily the crew were all below; I could hear their arguments over the sharing of the gold – it seemed the price on Sparrow's head had been less than they thought. My hands shook as I un-battened a boat and I cursed each creak of the block and tackle which lowered the ship overboard. I climbed into the boat and let the lines out until I hit the water with a splash the crew couldn't have failed to hear. The dinner knife I had brought with me proved hopeless against the thick, damp rope and it sawed against them like Sparrow's file against the bars of the brig – and in my panic I felt it took just as long. Finally they broke and before I quite knew what I was doing I was dragging on the heavy oars and rowing steadily to the direction of Port Royal.