Jack Book Two in the Trilogy: Murder on the High Seas

Aboard Ship 17

"Quiet Jack," I said as we slipped onto the ship after climbing up the rope ladder. "Captain said no one on the ship 'til after nine o'clock. Shh. Someone's got to have the watch! I'll backtrack and tell them to go back to the wharf."

"No! They'll just start another argument. We can't take a chance. Let's break in now!" said Jack. We then climbed the six foot ladder to the captain's cabin. The two girls caught up to us and Jack pointed to a large number of wooden crates stacked five or six high that stored provisions, whispering angrily, I thought, to hide behind them.

Jack took a short flat iron bar from one box to use to pry the lock off the cabin door. There had been only one sailor visible on the wharf and no one on the dock next to our ship. The watch was on the main deck at the bow, Jack said.

The carpenters had finished their work. All the men had liberty and had gone ashore in search of low-lit pubs and female company. No one else would be aboard unless one or more came back early, stumbling back from one of their escapades.

The watch was Arnold B. Jenkins - a difficult man who liked to pick fights with other sailors to prove his manhood. Jenkins' main function aboard the Helena was to provide the captain with any secrets he learned about the crew. For instance, Jenkins - a kind of second, unofficial, first mate - had told Captain Pendleton that First Mate Hawkins told some crew members recently that "the captain is fool and is not fit to run this ship!"

Sneaking aboard was the easy part. Jack took the iron claw-type bar used for extracting nails from wood and we scurried up to the captain's cabin. Mauricia stayed hidden on the main deck to signal America, who had quietly followed Jack and me to the captain's cabin, to warn us if anyone approached. We could now see Jenkins at the bow sitting on a wooden barrel, singing, probably three sheets to the wind, or at least half drunk. Jack took the iron bar and, in less than one minute and with little noise, he pried the whole padlock assembly off the door jamb. "Let's do it fast and get out fast," he said, adding, "America, you knock three quick times if someone is coming. We'll skip out the window and meet you at your mamma's inn. Don't get caught. Run fast if you have to!"

My heart was pounding now. The captain had left his cabin oil lamp illuminated on a low wick. A little daylight came through the window but not enough to read by if we found something. Jack turned the wick up in the lamp and the flame burned brighter illuminating the whole cabin. There was a desk with a pen and ink bottle on top. The desk had one drawer, locked. Jack wedged the iron claw between the drawer and desk and it popped out although some pieces of wood splintered and fell to the deck. He dumped the contents on the desk top. Inside was the ship's log and various papers.

"Hey what's this?" Jack asked, opening a small black cover book.

"It's a daily log," he said, flipping through the pages like he knew just what he was after. He read the following entry: August 2, 1860. 10 boxes nails, 8 penny, 10 penny, 12 penny, 14 penny, and 16." It addressed various provisions the ship would need before leaving Charleston.

"Here it is!" Jack said excitedly. "A map with the ship's course and its stops - look, arrows to Jamaica, to Cuba, down to Costa Rica, to Florida and home. Another arrow to Hispaniola but with a question mark."

"Why don't we just take it and get out of here," I said.

"No. Then he'll know what we were after... let's just take this money (about $50). Look here's a note...Kingston, Havana, Costa Rica, Florida, Charleston. We've got it! Oh look! The slaves are being bought in Cuba '110 Guinea natives'. Wow! One hundred and ten Negroes? Where will we put them all?"

We were about to leave through the cabin door when we heard three knocks in rapid succession. America poked her head through the door, fear in her face. "Watch is coming man! Get out that porthole now!" she said.

Jack and I nearly sailed through it, me first. He followed. We had no time for the rope so we left it. We squirreled through the porthole - just large enough for us to fit through - and dropped silent as river otters into the water.