A Ship Cursed Part 4

During this time, some of the residents and I searched the vessel, and while there was evidence that there had been fighting on deck, below was very clean. The galley, other than the dishes, was spotless. There were no crumbs anywhere. This didn’t surprise us, because the young man had obviously not eaten in a long time. But what was odd was the total lack of spices: no salt, no pepper, none of the local herbs. All of these had been packed-so the supplier of the ship claimed. So where had they gone? Later, we found the empty bags that had held the salt, pepper, and the other spices. There had not been enough food on board for the crew to have used all the spices. This was most curious.

Since that day, no one has entered the ship, what weapons there were-the cannon, swords, and rifles-had been left to rot. The ship truly was cursed, indeed, everyone who boarded the ship with me that day has gone to sea, never to return.

Pierre claimed he was from Toulon, but his English was bad and my French only extends to telling thieves where to put it. He could have been saying anything. He didn’t much talk about the La Joya Del Sol, and if I’d ask him he’d retort with, “Va te faire foutre!” I haven’t a clue what it meant, but by his tone, and the accompanying gestures, there was little left to the imagination. Apparently, he was put into service by the Spanish as a dishwasher in the galley.

One day, I came home and he was gone. He had stolen several gold coins. I didn’t see him again for several months. I had not yet heard the rest of his story- and that of my son- so I looked for him everyday. This is what he told me, when I finally found him.

A Ship Cursed Part 3

‘Maman.’ He was alive! I ran to his side.

He tried to raise his head, ‘shhh. Quiet, don’t move young man.’

‘Maman.’ Just then I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me. It was the doctor.

‘Henry, what seems to be the matter with… oh, I see,’ the doctor knelt next to me. He looked through his bag, and found a tube of honey which he mixed with water. Slowly, he let the parched man drink. ‘Not too much now.’

After tending to his other wounds the doctor asked if the man could stay with me. I wanted to learn what had happened, to the ship, and to my son, also, I had liked the ship’s elected captain, and wanted to know what had happened to him, besides which I didn’t go out much and had little to do, so I agreed. It would be good to talk to another sailor, once he was able. The doctor gave me instructions on how to care for him, and strict directives not to give him too much food or water: for fear of it bursting his stomach.

The man slept for the next few days, then as the weeks went by he slowly gained strength. ‘How are you doing,’ I said, as I sat down on the chair by the bed.

‘Va te faire foutre,’ he said.

‘Do you speak English?’

‘Euh, oui, a little bit,’ he had a heavy accent.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Pierre.’ He was still weak, and I could see he was getting tired already.

A Ship Cursed Part 2

As it bore down on me I thought of what I owed, and what I was owed. But at the last instant the ship swerved; narrowly avoiding the docks, it careened into the beach, and the hull shattered. Wood splinters flew every which way.

The man was thrown to the deck. I sent my apprentice to fetch the doctor. I ran to the side of the ship, climbed up to and swung over the railing. I landed on the slopped deck and stumbled—I’m not as young as I once was. I saw that there had been fighting on the deck, and hoped the man at the helm was my son, that he had not died in the battle. The hull and masts were, or had been before the beaching, in good condition. There was no sign of any treasure either. This ship had seen a second mutiny. But where was everyone? Where was my son? Even if the man at the helm was the only survivor, he was in no condition to have cleaned the deck of bodies.

‘Sam?’ I called, hoping he was below, or was the man on the bridge, and would answer me. The only sound that answered was the creak of the masts in the wind, and the wiping of sails that billowed, cocked half way to the wind.

My knee was sore; it had been a long time since I had done much of anything and the climb to the deck had been long. It shook as I climbed the stairs to the bridge: remembering the old injury, from my days raiding the Spanish Main. I had settled in Tortuga with the first English colonists, about 15 years ago, on a handsome sum as compensation for my injury. The Spanish had come and gone, fighting all the way. As I topped the stairs, I saw him. He was thinner than I had thought was possible. Most devastatingly though-he was not my son.

A Ship Cursed Part 1

La Joya Del Sol was a three mast monstrosity, the pride of the Queen of Spain for over fifty years, then the unthinkable happened: the crew mutinied. As the harbour master for the only pirate haven in the Caribbean, the sight of a Spanish Galleon sent shivers down my spine, I was sure I would die. It was not until they weighed anchor that I began to suspect that something was different about this ship. Its colours were not those of the Spainish Kingdom, they were bones of white on a black field. But, what I felt was that it was not that the crew was lucky to be free of the yoke of military service, but that the ship was cursed. My son, Sam, was fifteen and had always dreamt of following me to the sea. He joined on with the new pirates as a deckhand. I had taught him all I knew of ship craft, and the crew was glad to have him. They set sail shortly afterwards, my son and 200 others aboard, hunting for treasure.

* * *

When next the La Joya Del Sol sailed into the harbour of Tortuga in front of a dark storm with every sheet of canvas stretched taught before the wind. It was months late, there was no one on deck, except for the lone man at the helm. The ship was moving too fast for the harbour, at least 10 knots; it was going to strike the docks. There was no way of stopping it.

The ship bore down on the docks, which it would smash through and in to my office. Needless to say I was frozen with fear. This was the second time it had hove to in Tortuga’s harbour, and it was, again, looking as though it would end in my death.