Black Sam - Prince of Pirates

Thirty Two - BLACKBEARD

 Thirty-Two – BLACKBEARD

 December 1716

 The turquoise water and white sandy beaches were a welcome sight to Sam after almost three weeks at sea. The Spanish Galleon sat anchored on the long side of the narrow island, and so Captain Hornigold anchored his ship on the opposite side. They had broken off chase and taken the northern route to the island, as not to arouse the suspicion of the Spanish.

 It was his experience as a privateer for the British Navy that Hornigold won his Captaincy aboard the Mary Anne. The crew, anxious for success, voted for him overwhelmingly in a democratic election. However, his moderate success and reluctance to attack British ships had been a source of frustration among the crew for quite some time. Hornigold needed to take this ship.

 Sam and Paulgrave stood against the port side railing and watched as several boats rowed to shore carrying the rest of Hornigold’s men.

 “Are you not going ashore?” Paulgrave asked.

 “Not just yet.”

 Paulgrave tapped his fingers on the railing. “We won’t have another chance at solid earth for weeks, you know.”

 Sam shook his head. “The ship is empty and quiet. A good time to write a letter, maybe I’ll join you momentarily.”

 “Well, I for one desire the feel of wet sand between my toes.”

 Sam chuckled. “Don’t hesitate on my account.”

 “I’ll see you on shore.” Paulgrave climbed down into a waiting boat.

 Sam stood and watched his friend row with vigor. It had been a while since he had a moment to himself, and he was anxious to write another letter to Maria. He never wrote to her in front of the men, as they may see his affections as a weakness. He longed for solitude, a moment alone in her memory, to be with his love if only in thought.

 He looked around the ship making sure he was indeed alone. Sails flapped in the slight breeze. Wood creaked as the ship swayed ever so gently. The unmanned wheel caught his attention. He walked to the helm and fingered the worn wood of the spoke handles. He licked his thumb and polished the brass decorating the hub. He took hold of the wheel as if steering the ship.

 “That position suits you,” said a voice from amidships.

 Sam looked up to see Edward sitting on the starboard side rail leaning back into some rigging like a hammock.

 Sam smiled, “Be careful Edward, we don’t want to start a mutiny.”

 “Don’t we?” Teach asked getting down from his perch. “There’s nothing wrong with a little rebellion from time to time. It keeps us on our toes.”

 Sam nodded. “Yes, when times call for it.”

 “Who determines when it’s time?”

 Sam walked back over to the railing, and watched the men on the beach. “I suppose that is the crew’s job.” He watched island girls greet Paulgrave as if they had the other men before him.

 Edward joined Sam at the railing. “Yes, it will be the crew.”

 Sam looked at Edward. “Is something on your mind?”

 “That Galleon is on my mind,” Edward said, motioning toward the direction of the Spanish ship.

 Edward was changing the subject, and Sam welcomed the change. “I’m sure we’ll get her.”

 “It’s mine you know.” Edward said, still staring at the Galleon. “Ben told me the next ship we captured would be mine to Captain under his fleet.”