By two bel s in the first dog watch repairs had been made to the prize, and the convoy was away on a northerly heading for Charlestown. SeaWolf had sailed west-sou-west. The light was going fast and visibility was low when Dagan came down from the masthead lookout. He'd been perched there for an hour now scanning the horizon, occasional y putting the glass to his eye for a clearer picture. The regular lookout had tried to engage Dagan in conversation for the first several minutes they shared the platform. These attempts stopped suddenly when Dagan gave the man a stern look and said, "I'm looking for a ship, not conversation, now put your glass to work."
Gabe had just about given up on sighting his quarry when Dagan approached him. "I found her." Gabe had the master, Blake, and Lieutenant Hazard meet with him in his cabin to go over Dagan's finding on the chart.
"There're some small islands here with a small inlet between them. The Turtle is about here."
"That's Hunting Islands," the master offered.
"There're about five little islands that make up the Huntings. The Turtle, if it's between this northern most small island and larger one, the main Hunting Island, then she's in the Warsaw Sound."
"The Hunting Islands down to Jenkins Island,"
Blake pointed to a small island just off the entrance to
Port Royal Harbour, "along with the sound are greatly affected by the tide. When the tide is out there's mud flats and saw grass al the way to Port Royal. There're a few channels that can be made with a shallow draft barge or ship's boat and I expect that's how they unload such vessels."
"Just how far could a body make it overland?"
Hazard asked the master as he peered at the charts.
"At low tide?"
"Aye," Hazard replied, "At low tide."
"If you didn't stick up to arse-hole and elbows in the mud you could walk from the beach at Hunting al the way to Port Royal. Course there are gators and moccasins and varmints that if they don't eat ya or ’pison ya they'll sting you to death. No, don't be thinking of no land action. It's a boat action or naught," the master stated definitely.
"What do we know about location and depths of the channels?" Gabe asked the master.
"Next to nothing, sir. I know they exist and that's about it."
"Well," Gabe responded, "We don't want to go to Port Royal, just to the inlet here."
"My recommendation," Blake said, "is to wait til it's dark and send a couple boats and cut her out if need be but I'd rather just go within cannon bal range and blast her."
"The master's got a point," Dagan volunteered.
"But we need that powder, don't we, sir," Hazard interjected.
This brought looks from both Dagan and the master. Seeing the looks, Gabe came to the young lieutenant's aid, "We do need the powder so here's what we'll do."
The boats were put over the side. Mr. Davy with the marine sergeant and a squad of his marines, Lieutenant Lavery with his party; then Gabe and Dagan with a group in his gig. Before leaving, Gabe talked with his first lieutenant.
"I know you feel it's your place to go, Everette, but with your arm the way it is that's an impossibility.
Besides I need someone here who can handle SeaWolf if something goes amiss. I'm not going to sacrifice al those men for one renegade. If I can cut Turtle out, I will. If not I'll make an attempt to blow her up. If that's not feasible, I'll send up a flare. That's your cue to come in and pick us up. Then we'll let Mr. Druett and his bunch have some target practice."
"Aye, sir. I'll be ready with SeaWolf regardless which plans unfolds."
Then Gabe was quite serious. "There's a letter in my desk drawer for my brother and my mother should I fail to return. Give them both to my brother."
"Aye, sir, but I'm sure that won't be necessary."
Pausing before he climbed down to his gig, Gabe looked over SeaWolf. He could never ask for a better ship. She was more than he ever dreamed, a dream that came true in part due to his brother. Yes, his brother, not his half-brother, just his brother. Then as he turned, he felt dizziness overtake him and he had to grasp the bulwark to steady himself. Dagan reached out and touched him.
"Let's just stand off and blast the bugger, Gabe.
You're in no shape for what we're about." Looking at the man who'd been his constant companion for as long as he could remember, Gabe felt a lump in his throat. "I have to Dagan. It's what's expected…it's my duty. Besides I have you with me." Then as Gabe made his way down the ladder to his gig, Dagan muttered, "Duty be damned, it's you I care about."
Just being in the open water seemed to clear Gabe's dizziness. The air had a slight chill and that seemed to help as well. Tiny little wavelets lapped at the sides of the boat as the men put their backs to the oars. It was a hard enough pull just from the distance but with the ebb tide the pull was even harder.
After thirty minutes of rowing Gabe cal ed a halt and let the men rest. "Everything well, Mr. Davy, Lieutenant Lavery."
"Aye," they both responded from their respective boats.
"We'll let the men rest for five minutes, and then we'll start again."
"Aye sir."
The rowing had resumed and after ten minutes a seaman made his way back to where Gabe was sitting next to Dagan at the tiller. Men groaned and cursed as a few toes was bruised at the man's awkward movements.
"Sorry sir but I didn't want to speak too loud but they's a light just off the starboard bow, looks like someone's got ’holt ’o a lanthorn and walking down the side of a ship."
Dagan put the tiller over and the light was visible and appeared to be moving along the deck of a ship.
Davy and Lavery's boats had eased up along side of Gabe's.
"Unless I'm mistaken gentlemen, yonder lays our missing ’cow'."
This brought a smile from Lavery.
"Let's muffle our oars, then Dagan and I will come up on her starboard quarter astern. Mr. Davy, put your boat under her stern but where you'll see my signal. Mr. Lavery, I want you to swing wide and if there's no guard boat or sentry come up along her bow.
Make sure nobody has a loaded musket or pistol.
Remember this ship is loaded to the gills with powder and munitions. Any questions? Now let's take our stations and pay attention to my signals."
As the crews put their backs into it, the distant ship became more visible. It was undoubtedly the Turtle, her sails were furled and a glow seemed to move about on the weather deck, the lookout with the lanthorn. The larboard side was not visible from this position but Gabe could make out a list to the larboard.
"She's aground…stuck in the bloody mud by damn," he whispered to Dagan.
"Aye, probably beached her on the low tide to unload her," Dagan answered. "I'll bet they got boats in the water working back and forth from the shore now."
"I agree," Gabe turned to the boat crew, "Let's be about it men."
The boats eased their way up to the unsuspecting ship. Voices could be heard on deck. Once, one of the men on board the Turtle spit over the side just missing the gig. Gabe was now able to pick out individual faces in the lanthorn light. The same light that helped the men see on the deck also took away their night vision and made it easier for the men in the boats to go unseen. A seaman reached up and grasped hold to Turtle.
"Boats as secure as I can make it sir without tying off to ’sumthin."
The hull was moist and smell ed of salt and tar mixed with the distinct odor of mud. As Gabe climbed silently up the side of the ship more men were in evidence on Turtle's deck. Barrels of gunpowder fill ed the deck where they'd been brought up from the hole.
A voice with a distinct Irish brogue said, "Keep that lanthorn away from the barrels you fool. That's gunpowder."
Patrick, the bastard, is on board Gabe thought, recognizing the voice.
"When's the boats coming back?" one of the men asked.
"We're never gonna get this stuff unloaded by daybreak."
Dagan was standing in the boat as Gabe eased his way back down into the gig.
"Patrick is there and his bosun is by the larboard rail. Two other men are on deck sitting by several barrels of gunpowder, and from the sounds one or two more men are down in the hold."
"Mr. Lavery is latched onto the anchor cable sir, and Davy's waiting on your signal." Dagan informed Gabe.
"Very well, let's be about it."
As Gabe climbed back up Turtle's hull he was suddenly met face to face with the man who'd spit over the side just minutes before. Then everything happened at once. Seeing a British officer rise up startled the man as he spat. He instinctively grabbed Gabe and bel owed, "What the hell?"
Gabe was bodily swung over the bulwark and thrown across the deck landing with a thud, almost at Patrick's feet. Quick to recover himself, Gabe rose up and grabbed Patrick with one hand as he tried to get
the handle of his sword in his other hand. It was dangling from his wrist by its lanyard. Hearing the shout and commotion on deck behind him, the man who was holding the lanthorn and peering down to where the boats were being loaded was startled. As he swung around he banged the lanthorn on a stanchion, shattering it and sending the flaming candle across the deck and into the barrels of gunpowder. The clumsy sailor was wild-eyed with fright. In moving the barrels of gunpowder in such haste a stave had separated and grains of powder had leaked out of a barrel and lay upon the deck.
The rolling candle sparked a few grains which then caused a larger flash.
Seeing this, the doomed man said, "Oh hell!" They were the last words he uttered.
Captain Patrick's back was to the flash, but he saw the reflection in Gabe's eyes. "My God!" he screamed.
The explosion was tremendous. The ship, the inlet and the sky al seemed to burst apart and a great flame shot up in the air twenty feet or more lighting up the night sky. Then everything came raining down; bodies, water and fiery debris.
Men were dead and floating in the water. Others were temporarily blinded and deaf from the explosion, blood draining from their ears and nose. Some suffered burns while others were thankful they were unharmed.
Surprisingly, SeaWolf’s boats would al float even though they'd overturned with the explosion. The boats were righted, water was bailed out and sailors
helped their wounded mates into the boats. Those who could swam the short distance to the muddy shore.
Lieutenant Lavery and Mr. Davy were each in a boat.
"Where's the cap'n?" Lavery asked.
"He was on deck," Davy replied.
"Then he's gone," Lavery responded.
"No…he's alive," Dagan almost shouted. "Let's search for him."
"He's gone Dagan," Lavery said putting his hand on Dagan's shoulder.
"He's alive."
"No one could live through that, Dagan."
"He's alive."
Lavery looked to Davy for support but got none.
"Maybe he is alive," Davy said, remembering events involving Lieutenant Witzenfield and the pirate captain when they'd been on Drakkar. "Dagan's usual y right," he added, "And it can't hurt to look."
"Al right," Lavery knew it was futile to argue and truthful y he didn't want to argue with Dagan. The piercing look he'd gotten from Dagan when he said the captain was gone sent a shiver clean through his body.
His eyes seemed to penetrate clear to his soul and made him feel weak. No, it wouldn't hurt to look but he'd send up a flare for SeaWolf, not that one was needed. If they didn't see the explosion there wasn't much need sending up a flare.
"Mr. Lavery," one of the bosun's mates was calling.
"We got visitors from both directions." SeaWolf was just off shore and a group of Colonials were on the beach.
"Put a white flag on an oar and let's see if they know anything about the captain," Lavery told the bosun mate.
With a piece of torn white shirt tied to an oar, Lavery was rowed over to the beach where a crowd of Colonials and slaves were gathered. As the boat ground into the mud one of the slaves pull ed it further up onto the beach. Lavery and Dagan got out of the boat. Some of the Colonials looked ready to fight.
"Why'd you blow up the ship?" one of the better dressed men asked.
Before Lavery could speak, Dagan replied, "We didn't. It happened just as we arrived." This caused a few hushed whispers.
"What are you looking for?" Again this from the better dressed man. As he spoke, he tapped sand from his boot with a walking stick.
"Our captain," Lavery said not wanting it to appear that Dagan was in charge. "He'd just gone on board the ship when it exploded."
"Then he's dead!" one of the men said toward the back of the crowd.
"We've found no body," Lavery said.
"Ain't likely to either," again the man in back spoke.
However, Dagan was paying no attention to the man. He was looking at one of the slaves. He looked familiar, he knew him, but from where? The man had looked him in the eye but only for a moment. Dagan couldn't make eye contact with him again. To do so deliberately in front of the Colonials would probably cost the slave his life.
As more of SeaWolf’s boats approached, the Colonials turned to walk away. The neatly dressed man paused. "I'm sorry for your captain. I hope you find him." Then like the others he walked over the dune into the brush and out of sight.
Back on board SeaWolf, Dagan, Dawkins, and Caleb sat with Lieutenant Hazard in Gabe's cabin.
"The captain left instructions and letters before he left for the cutting out. I'm sure you know about them Dagan. Anyway, I'm to pick up the convoy in Charlestown then go on to New York and Philadelphia. Then find Lord Anthony's squadron.
That's what I intend to do unless otherwise instructed."
"You won't be," Dagan responded then added,
"I'll give Lord Anthony the letters. He has to know Gabe's alive."
Hazard wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Maybe it was better to let Dagan go on hoping. Maybe that was his way to deal with his loss.
"I have to go on deck. You gentlemen finish your wine."
No mention had been made of changing his things into the captain's cabin. It wasn't the right time. It would only be temporary Hazard knew. His Lordship certainly had someone more qualified than him for SeaWolf, but he'd enjoy the chance to command while it lasted. On his way on deck Hazard thought of his last meeting with Gabe. He cal ed me Everette, he thought. Not Lieutenant Hazard but Everette.