As the wind kicks against my face, and the water lightly splashes on my hands, I lean across the rails of The Ranger. That's the name of our small sloop. I cant help but think its strange, being part of the Royal Navy. I'm just glad I don't have to wear those silly powdered wigs, like the higher ups. I'm simply a petty officer. I've been in the navy for a couple years now. I was recently chosen by Lieutenant Maynard to be part of this expedition. Word is the higher ups are paying him to go after Edward Teach, the bloke who's been holding Charleston Bay hostage. Were sailin' on two ships, The Pearl and The Ranger. The Lieutenant is on the other ship. We sacrificed all our cannons to be able to go faster, and make it into the shallow areas.
The quartermaster says Teach knows these inlets like the back of his own hand, and can navigate these shallow waters. For some reason, he grounded his ship, The Queen Annes Revenge, and fled out here on a sloop he named The Adventure. Why, none of us really know, although the quartermaster thinks it was to get away and throw us all off of his trail. He also marooned a bunch of his crew mates. Most of them were hanged, and the rest thrown into prison.
Blackbeard is what most call him. He's become famous around here and through the Caribbean for his usage of fear to take ships. He puts cannon fuses into his hat, and lights them on fire before battle. He carries several pistols and he's vary skilled with his blade. I'd like a chance at em, just to see how I'd fair. My uncle taught me how to fight. My uncle is part of the reason I'm where I am today.
I look out to sea, and start thinking. Not about one particular thing, just everything that's gotten to this point.
*****NOTE: Straight line denotes a series of flashbacks, of which Edward will talk about his past, and then you will read about it. (Sorry, thought Id let you know.) Each series will end with another line.*****
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My earliest memory is with my Uncle. His name was Nathaniel. I called him Nate. I don't remember my mother or my father. My uncle raised me up, taught me how to read using his Bible. He is a vary devout follower. When I turned ten, he gave me my fathers cutlass. It currently sits in my home, as The Navy wouldn't allow me to bring it. The older I got the more I could appreciate its beauty. It was perfectly balanced, and the hilt was trimmed in gold. He taught me to fight using it. He would always beat me.
"Boy, let go of your anger and perry!" He said.
"Uncle Nate, I cant!" He slaps me.
"I don't want to EVER hear that word pass your lips again! I cant is the same as saying I wont! Now get up and try again." I swing my blade, and he easily deflects it. I try again and he deflects again, this time kicking at my shin, and knocking my foot out from under me.
"You have to learn boy, you will be good."
"Why do I need to learn to fight anyway?"
"Every man needs to know how to defend he and his wife. Now, stand." I swing my sword again, but this time I have an idea. He deflects my blow again, so I reach around and grab the pistol below me. I aim it at him.
"Don't ya be aiming a pistol at a man unless you plan to kill him, Edward." He swings his sword at me, and I throw the pistol into the air. In his distraction, I stand back, parrying his swing, and punch him on the side of the wrist, on the bone. He drops his sword and I lower mine at his neck.
He looks up and says, "Atta boy," and smiles.
He took me to church every Sunday. I have to admit, I never really got into it. I kind of believe in God, but I don't know enough to make a decision. I just sat through the services. I learned a lot though. About the wars, and about Jesus. I also learned a lot about right and wrong, good and evil. I don't curse, or disrespect women. And I know my way around the good book. When I turned twelve was when he finally decided to teach me to shoot.
"Alright Edward, keep both eyes open, don't hold your breath, breath out as you squeeze, not pull, the trigger, and don't close your eyes!"
"Wait, what?"
"Keep your eyes open, and pull the trigger."
"But I thought you said don't pull the trigger?"
"No, wait, yes, no, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it, when you pull it you mess up your aim."
"So wait, how do you squeeze it then?"
"Just do it."
"OK, I think I've got it!" POW.
Uncle Nathan looks at me, angrily, and says, "You closed your eye!"
"No I didn't!"
"Don't argue with me boy, you closed you eye! You cant close your eye while you shoot! What if a man is holding your child, and you close your eye and miss the man? What then?"
"Uncle Nate, why are you so worried about people capturing my family?"
"Just don't close your eyes, Edward."
"Yes sir."
After a little while, I finally hit the target.
"I got it!"
"Ay, that ya did! Good shot! Now try it again!" I steady my weapon, keep both my eyes open, and look down the long barrel of my musket. POW. The small can on the fence several yards down range flys from its spot.
"I got it again!"
"Ay boyo, youll be shooting better then me before to long! Let me take a shot at it." I run down range, and replace the can on the fence, and stand there. "Get back up here Edward! Your no fool! You know better then to stand down range wile a man's shootin'!" I job back up and stand beside him. He shoots, and misses by a mile. "I did that on purpose."
"Sure ya did Uncle Nate."
"Don't ya be arguing with me," he laughs.
My Fathers name was Mathew. Mathew Malure Goldsteel. I still remember the day I asked Nathan about him. I was eighteen.
"Uncle Nate, what was my father like?"
His face clouds over as he looks down and says, "He was a good man."
"Tell me more about him, please! I want to know!"
"Leave me alone about it, he was a good man!"
After several weeks of my periodically asking, he finally tells me.
"Your Father was a Privateer for the Navy for a time. He settled down and had a family. You were his only child, and he loved you vary much. You happy now? Leave me alone about it!"
A few weeks later we sit down by a fire on one of the beach's of Port Royal, which is where we lived, and he volunteers more.
"Edward, I know a man needs to know more about his father, but your father and I were vary close, and I'm just not ready to tell it."
"Well, what about my mother?"
"She was beautiful, more beautiful then the most gorgous sunset."
"What else?"
"I'm not quite ready to talk about her yet either, I'm sorry Edward." After a small silence, he looks up at me says, "I brought ya out here to show ya something." He points out to sea, "Do you see that?"
"See what?"
"Just look."
"The ship?"
"Aye."
There's a small sloop on the horizon. Uncle Nate says, "Tomorrow we are going out to sea, we will be sailing around Jamaica. I'm going to teach ya how to sail."
I jump up in excitement and say, "Really?"
"Aye, give your beauty word tomorrow, tell her she may come to if she like. I'll gather a vary small crew, some friends, and we'el teach ya how to sail."
He was referring to my fiance, Haley Marie. She is the most beautiful woman in the entire world. I went to her home that morning, and asked her father if she could travel with us. Her father, Charles, worried for her safety, wouldn't allow it, and so we spent a couple of hours together before I left off. That was the last time I've saw her.