T he Sweet Cutlass struck the black skull and crossbones flag and raised the ensign of France to set anchor off San Juan after twenty-one days of successful marauding throughout the Caribbean. We were all frankly sick of being at sea, flush with bags of gold and silver coins and ready to party hard ashore in San Juan. The Captain, the Second Mate and I, left the Third Mate in charge of the ship with our hearties, cast off in the whale boat and rowed towards the port steps for a day of carousing and seeking intelligence in the bars and whore houses of the city. We planned to take each establishment as if we were climbing aboard one of our target ships with two swords and two pistols in our belts.
The first establishment we visited, the Captain’s favorite, was full of merchant seamen who made way for us because they knew our type. The smell of our bodies repulsed them, but they feared for their lives when they saw our fierce demeanors, our vicious scars and our loud, colorful curses.
“A bottle of rum for each man,” the Captain ordered with a scowl at the barkeep. “Drinks all around for the rest. Put everything on my tab. Make it snappy.”
The barkeep hesitated for a moment too long, so the Captain drew one of his swords and, walking right up to the bar, put the sharp pointed end of his sword next to the barkeep’s windpipe. That set the barkeep, his wife and his daughter in motion grabbing bottles with alacrity, and we pressed towards a table at the back of the saloon. The barkeep’s wife and daughter came a few minutes later to inquire whether we needed anything in particular. So with a wink and the wild look he sometimes got around women, the Captain left me in charge of our table and went up the stairs with his two bottles of rum, his arms around the mother and daughter, singing an old bawdy sailors’ song about women and the sea. The women seemed terrified of him and fearful for their lives if they should refuse him, yet they were resigned as if they had been through this before.
The Second Mate and I had no idea how long the Captain would be about his business, so we got down to serious drinking while we discussed our ship’s swashbuckling exploits over the last three weeks. I was in the middle of recapping our having the entire crew of a merchantman walk the plank naked while sharks swirled below. Excited and laughing at the memory of tormenting the merchantmen, I was taking a quaff of rum at every other sentence and leering to keep my hearties’ attention. At the moment I got to the punch line, the door to the bar flew open and the apparent lawmen of the town entered, armed to the teeth with swords, knives, pistols, rifles and blunderbusses. The merchantmen in the bar parted so that nothing lay between the five newcomers at the door and us at our table.
I had to think fast. “Barkeep, the Captain said that everyone should have a round on his tab, so make sure our new guests are served quickly at the bar. Everyone else should step up for seconds!”
As the stampede of customers closed in the run on the bar, the Second Mate said, “Good thinking, Abe! Now let’s make for the back entrance.”
“Not so fast, Rafe. If they’ve come for us through the front door, armed men will be waiting at the back door too.” I cocked my pistols and gestured for Rafe to do the same. “Sit tight, and when I signal, take out two of our friends and we’ll shift to swords.”
We sat ready while the five armed lawmen pushed their way towards us through the throng. Their leader stuck his head towards me, and I recognized Sal Coinder, a former member of our pirate crew. I told the Second Mate to stand down, and I rose to embrace Sal heartily while my dagger felt for his kidney.
“Sal,” I said, “It must have been seven months since we last met. You and your men, come drink with us and catch us up on the news.”
Sal thought better of resisting my dagger, so he shook his head and signaled his men to drag together chairs so they could surround our table. The barkeep rushed up with a bottle of rum for each man, and he asked me sotto voce whether I had any message for the Captain. I whispered to the barkeep, “Tell him to climb out the window and meet us at the whaleboat ASAP.” While the barkeep hurried up the stairs to deliver my message to the Captain, I led our table in singing a familiar song about the problems for sailors while drinking ashore. This song required a stiff drink after every stanza, and I knew all twenty stanzas by heart. When I finished the song, I started it again, but no one noticed and everyone kept right on drinking. I signaled Rafe that it was time for us to go.
“Rafe and I are going to get to the bar to fetch more rum since we’re fresh out. Sal, you keep right on singing since you know the song.”
The Second Mate and I pressed through the crowd to the door and entered the street, where we noticed that no noises from inside could be heard. We began trotting towards the landing. We were almost there when we heard reports of shots from the rear, so we ran to our boat and jumped in. Rafe took the oars, and I took charge of his two pistols while I scanned the shore for signs of the Captain. Rafe started laughing. The five lawmen were drunkenly winding their ways towards the whaleboat, signaling that we should stop and wait for them.
Waving one arm with a large object in the other, Sal called out, “Wait for us. We’re coming with you! And we have rum.” Four men raised their bottles of rum and Sal gestured to the keg he was carrying.
I told Rafe to keep on his guard for tricks. As Sal approached, I leveled my cocked pistols at him and said, “Sal, I’ll cut you down where you stand if you can’t explain what you mean.”
Sal stuttered, “Don’t shoot. Me and my mates are all pirates looking to ship aboard the Sweet Cutlass for a normal share. Landlubber living—faugh—you can take it. You need experienced, able-bodied seamen who know how to board and fight. So sign us up.”
I was skeptical. Free rum or not, this was too sudden for me to lower my guard. For all I knew, this could easily be a sly trap. “Sal, you and all your mates put your weapons on the ground in front of you and step back two paces. Good. Now, Sal, you come forward so we can talk terms.”
“Abe, I’m serious about our shipping aboard. I take it you are First Mate now, so you can make the decision.”
“The Captain makes all decisions for the Sweet Cutlass. You know that. Just now I can’t locate the Captain, so we’ll have to wait for him.” As if on cue, the Captain appeared at the second-story window of the public house and lowered tied sheets, by which he climbed down to the street level. He adjusted his tricorn and arranged his swords so that he could walk, turned and blew kisses to the two women who came to the window to see him off, and he marched in stately fashion to where Sal and I had faced off.
“Well, if it isn’t Sal, the mystery pirate, looking much too civilized for our company.” The Captain said this with a look of mild amusement on his face.
“Captain, like I was telling Abe, my mates and me want to ship aboard the Sweet Cutlass at an even share just like old times.”
The Captain took this information in and pretended to consider the option seriously. He looked at me, and I only shrugged to indicate that I had no dog in the fight—the decision was his alone.
“Sal, you left my crew without my leave seven or eight months ago. By rights I should have you shot or taken your prisoner and keel-hauled at sea. I do, however, need men to replace a few unfortunates who were lost when we took our last merchantman. If we had to shanghai a crew, we wouldn’t know their mettle. I do know yours, you skunk. This is my first and last offer to all of you; ship aboard the Sweet Cutlass at one half the normal pirate share. If you incite mutiny or decide to go AWOL again, I will make you walk the plank naked over a sea of sharks. What do you say?”
Sal did not need to consider the offer for a second. “Captain, we have a deal. May my men pick up their weapons now and ship aboard the whaleboat?”
“Not so fast, Sal,” the Captain replied. “You have rum, so busy yourself drinking where you stand. Abe, Rafe and I are going out to the ship. You—Abe and Rafe—pick up the weapons of these men and put them in the whaleboat right now. If any man moves while you’re doing that, he dies.” With the weapons aboard the whaleboat, Rafe cast off its lines, shoved off and made headway towards the Sweet Cutlass. That left me covering the five unarmed men.
“Abe, do you want to join us drinking this rum? In this heat you’ve gotta be thirsty.” Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward and jumped straight to the gossip. “So I heard the Captain is the real father of the barkeep’s daughter and that’s why he always stops at the public for drinks.”
I was irritated and offended at the sailor’s innuendo. “Sal, the strangest rumors go for truths on land. What the Captain does or doesn’t do ashore is no concern of mine.”
“Did anyone look around for the barkeep’s son?”
“Why’re you asking?”
“The barkeep sent him to the fort when the Captain walked into the bar. The boy was on his way there when he ran into us, and he told us to come right away to the bar. That’s why we came when we did. A good thing he happened to find us before he got to the fort, ain’t it?”
“This has nothing to do with the deal the Captain has cut with you. That deal is done, so live with it.” I looked the man over with unmasked disdain. I could not stand the sight of him.
“Abe, these days’re tough on pirates like us. You don’t know who to trust anymore. Those merchantmen in the bar are from those two sloops you see at anchor. They’ll be drinking all afternoon. In that time we could board both ships, take what’s worth anything and scuttle the pair at anchor.”
“Make the pitch to the Captain when you’re aboard the Sweet Cutlass. He’ll decide.”
Sal nodded and looked from side to side. Then he winked like someone in the know. “And a dreadnought is headed here full sail looking for the Sweet Cutlass. That information should be worth something.”
“So when does the military ship arrive?”
“Evening they’ll anchor out and make for the public just like you did.”
“Which direction’re they coming from?”
“North, and the longer the Sweet Cutlass stays in port, the greater the danger. They aim to kill or capture and hang everyone on the Sweet Cutlass by order of the US government.”
I was interested in this intelligence because we could use it, but I could not let this show. “Sal, I’m always amazed at the stories you spin. We’ll see what the Captain has to say when you tell him the details.”
So the five men drank rum while I watched their every move. I didn’t know what the Captain was doing, but I knew he must be doing something. He was surely taking his sweet time getting the whaleboat out here to pick us up. I looked out occasionally to see the Sweet Cutlass, and I noticed that preparations were being made to get her underway. The signs were unmistakable.
Sal saw the signs too. “Abe, it appears the Sweet Cutlass will be leaving without any of us—including you. How does it feel to be marooned? I was marooned once on an island. I survived for five weeks until a passenger ship happened by to rescue me. That was no fun. At least you’ll have us to keep you company.” The man was jeering at me. My blood boiled, but still I kept an even countenance.
As calmly as possible, I answered him, “Sal, the Captain always does things for a reason. Watch the ship, and we’ll all discover his intentions.”
The Sweet Cutlass hoisted the Jolly Roger, maneuvered to broadside one of the merchants and made to board. The pirate crew swung aboard and quickly took the ship as a prize. From the shore where we waited, we saw the pelf transported to the Sweet Cutlass, and then we saw the merchant ship begin to list. She had been scuttled. The Sweet Cutlass then sailed to get broadside to the other anchored merchantman, whose fate became the same as its twin. It was a very smooth operation all around, and I whistled when the merchantmen were both beneath the water.
Sal’s shoulders sagged in dejection because the Captain had been cleverer by far than he had estimated. I saw that his potential moment of glory had come and gone. Sal kicked at the earth and scowled. He was beaten and he knew it.
“There goes your plan to take the two merchantmen, Sal. The Captain divined the same plan as you did. I only hope he knows the dreadnought is on the way.”
I noticed that the Sweet Cutlass had now struck the skull and crossbones and this time raised the colors of France. The whaleboat was in the water now, approaching the landing in a straight course, but it contained seven men, far too many to take on an additional six. It could take on one more man, barely.
“So Sal, it looks like the Captain has countermanded his own decision about shipping you and yours aboard.” This news did not make Sal happy. He and his mates got a sour look as if a grand plan had gone awry. As it neared shore, I realized that the Captain was not in the whaleboat. Rafe jumped on the landing and walked right over for a quiet chat with me.
“The Captain says that Sal is part of a plot to board and sink the Sweet Cutlass. He sent the mates with me to take care of Sal and his men properly. So while you gather whatever rum is left, we’ll be executing the Captain’s orders.”
All that was left of the rum was the keg that Sal had commandeered. I took possession of the keg and stowed it in the whaleboat while Rafe had Sal and his mates strip naked in the street. He tied the men together and arranged them sitting in a star pattern with their backs inside and their legs pointing outwards. Rafe and the mates poured honey over the men until they were covered in the gooey mess, attracting all manner of flies, bees and ants. The captives were becoming extremely uncomfortable, squirming in their discomfort. Then Rafe applied the finishing touch, signs with strings to hang around the five men’s necks. Each read, “Pirate.”
Admiring his work, Rafe signaled that it was time for us to make our way back to the Sweet Cutlass. As we did that, Sal realized too late that he had no further chance. He shook his head and tried his best to look forlorn. When he saw this had no effect on us, he dropped his façade of joviality and glared. He made the mistake of saying, “Tell the Captain I’ll watch him hang for what we just witnessed off this shore.”
That was too much for me. Without thinking for a moment about drawing attention by the executions, I aimed my pistol and shot Sal dead between the eyes. I then snatched Rafe’s pistol and shot another victim dead between the eyes. The mates understood the game, so they shot the three others. “Now,” I said, “we’ll see who tells about our pirate work. Rafe, a dreadnought is heading for this port right now. We may have time to escape, but I have doubts. Do you have a signal to alert the Sweet Cutlass in an emergency?”
“Indeed I do, Abe; a great red flag and a pole to mount it on. The Captain said he would be looking for it through his spyglass—just in case.”
“So give the signal now. And we’ll get in the whaleboat and row for open water and our planned emergency rendezvous.”
Rafe’s red flag waved, and the Sweet Cutlass fired a cannon to signal its understanding. The ship headed slowly out of the anchorage and turned south while the whaleboat steered a course to intercept. On the horizon to the north was the rigging of the dreadnought, which would make the anchorage just as Sal said it would—unless it gave chase to the Sweet Cutlass instead. I figured that the dreadnought would not give chase for two reasons; it might not be able to identify the south-bound ship as the Sweet Cutlass, and its officers might be looking forward to a night of R&R on the town far more than they looked forward to dying while trying to waylay our pirate ship.
I got a wild idea, and ordered the whaleboat to do wide circles in the water waiting for the dreadnought to set anchor. I briefed the hearties and saw their looks of apprehension turn to wild surmise.
The dreadnought chose to anchor, and its whaleboat set out almost immediately for shore. Our whaleboat closed on the dreadnought silently after dark. We boarded the dreadnought without the ship’s sounding an alarm, and we cut the throats of the unwary watch team. We fanned out to do our dirty piratical work, turning one cannon towards the bridge, another at a down angle to hit well below the waterline and a third to hit near the magazine. First we set fires everywhere, and then we ignited the cannon. Those below decks raced topside when the cannons fired, and we laid the marines low with our pistols until we had run out of ammunition. Without missing a beat, we drew our swords and cut them down. The ship was aflame and began to list from taking on water.
I called for my hearties to make their way fighting to the fantail where our whaleboat lay. We had all climbed aboard when the dreadnought’s magazine exploded, tearing the ship in two and sending it straight to the bottom.
By firelight I could see that the water was full of debris, bodies, and men swimming for their lives. Any man unfortunate enough to near our whaleboat we skewered with our swords. I surveyed our handiwork and saw that it was good. Not good was the imminent return of the dreadnought’s own whaleboat.
Taking a dagger between my teeth, I slipped into the water. As one whaleboat closed on the other, I saw the flashes and heard the reports of rifle and pistol fire that cut down half of my hearties on our whaleboat. Making my way to the rear of the dreadnought’s whaleboat, I could barely make out the officer in charge. My dagger flew through the man’s neck, and he fell into the water. I pulled my dagger out of the man’s neck and closed his whaleboat again, where I threw the dagger at the heart of the man who was giving the orders. I dove under the boat as the remaining three soldiers fired blindly at the water on the opposite side, where I no longer floated. Out of nowhere my whaleboat rammed the dreadnought’s whaleboat, and Rafe and two others jumped from one boat to the other to kill the three remaining men.
When all was quiet, I began singing my favorite pirate’s song, and all I heard was Rafe laughing and finally saying, “So you survived, you bastard! For a while I thought I was going to be First Mate. No such luck. Now climb aboard and let’s blow this anchorage and make that rendezvous with the Captain. He’ll be glad that this dreadnought won’t be pursuing us tomorrow or any other day.” I was amused by Rafe’s jibes. I knew he was teasing me, but he was also playing with fire by testing my patience. My respect depended on my rising above his insinuations.
We were four souls aboard the whaleboat as we approached the Sweet Cutlass, and the pirate ship watch was better than the dreadnought’s had been. We had a parole, which I had taken pains to master. When the watchmen said, “Bottle.” We answered, “Rum.” Once we were aboard, our celebrations commenced immediately as we drank from the keg provided by our old pirate shipmate Sal Coinder, may his soul rest forever in Davy Jones’ Locker.