Chapter Nine

The Zuider Zee 1582 A.D.

Abraham’s Youngest Son

The dedication of Amsterdam’s first warship should have been a time of rejoicing for its proud citizens. Such a ship would be sending a message to the world that this powerful city planned to aggressively defend the Zuider Zee and guarantee freedom of the seas for the northern provinces of the new Republic. Instead, the insensitive methods use by Clifford van Weir to acquire the ship had left Amsterdam’s citizens enraged and the message muted. The entire city was growing tired of the Baron’s well-meaning but pretentious rule. The City Estate had petitioned many times to The Hague for his recall as Military Commander. The population would always be grateful for the decisive role the Baron played in eliminating the bandit gangs and all appreciated the wise economic decisions that followed. The improvements he ordered had provided the infrastructure that was now fueling the rapid growth of the ever-expanding city. His tolerant policy toward immigration provided a robust growing population filled with skilled entrepreneurs. His leadership made Amsterdam the most prosperous and talked about city in Europe. However the independent-minded citizens felt the time had come for the Baron to return control to local officials. His procrastination-strained relationships with his closest allies, such as the Magistrate and the High Sheriff, and the controversy over the new warship became a symbol of that city’s discontent. The Baron, foolishly naming the ship “Abraham’s Youngest Son,” had callously inflamed religious passions. The ship’s name was considered a heretical misnomer by the faithful who knew that God had given the Prophet Abraham only one son. The name shocked the majority of the people who were now fervent Protestants who prided themselves on reading the scriptures each day. The ship’s name even created consternation among Catholics and Jews who had previously been firm supporters of Clifford van Weir. A clarification issued by the Baron stating that the ship had been named in honor of his first Dutch ancestor, the Roman General Claudius Abraham Weir, did little to reduce the turmoil. It only reinforced the idea that the Lord of the Droger Land had a not-very-well hidden desire to become the Great Lord of Amsterdam.

While a warship would be helpful in defending the Zuider Zee, the inland lake leading to Amsterdam, there were sound reasons to refrain from prematurely building such a ship. The Dutch Sea Beggar Fleet was already doing a good job of protecting the Zuider Zee and keeping open important sea lanes for trade. Many politicians felt the construction of warships would force Spain to attack the seven Northern Provinces sooner, opening a new front within Holland itself. The ruling Dutch Estate, with its representatives from all the rebellious provinces, were already planning new defenses for the sea lanes. Most delegates felt all available funds must be allocated to build a stronger army to shore up the crumbling fortunes of the Dutch forces fighting in the south.

When the Baron first initiated the proposal for the warship’s construction, the request received little support from the members of the City Estate who requested guidance from The Hague on the idea of constructing such a ship. Without awaiting a reply, the Baron made a unilateral decision to push ahead immediately, for he deemed he knew what was best for Amsterdam. He used his authority as military governor to authorize the construction without any further consultation with local politicians. In his haste, he then made a series of questionable judgments which inflamed powerful groups within the city. He chose the shipbuilder Henri Roulfs, an old friend and associate to build the warship. By selecting the prominent Rotterdam shipbuilder, no matter how innovative the final design might be, he embarrassed the shipwrights of Amsterdam. Many felt Henri Roulf’s experience in building a few gunboats, did not elevate him to the status of a great architect of warships. The fact that the ship was being built at the designer’s boat yard in Rotterdam, angered every guild member in Amsterdam. The budding armament industry, desperately needed to supply munitions for the war, felt unappreciated when the ship’s main armament, ten bronze cannons, were cast in Germany. The Barons former supporters within the proud maritime community looked on with disbelief when a ship built to defend Amsterdam interests was constructed in Rotterdam and armed in Germany.

The physical characteristics of the finished ship also raised further concerns among the nautical community. It lacked the classic lines of a fighting ship. It had no forecastle and seemed small and fragile when compared to Spanish warships. Some experts questioned the wisdom of placing the main guns on a second deck near the water line. Yet even the harshest critic admitted that the narrow hull, the three tall masts and an extra long bowsprit would give the ship more speed than potential adversaries. The speed and the pure beauty of the two-decked vessel were displayed in sea trials on the lake. Despite the weight of ten medium caliber cannons, it sailed past and pulled rapidly away from every ship it encountered in various winds. The simmering citizens begrudgingly gave the ship the nickname “The Runaway Baron”. The controversies only heighten as the Baron appointed Jon van Weir, his eighteen year old son, to command the vessel. In doing so he passed over a host of eminently more qualified local captains. The Baron attempted to silence his critics by announcing that Gustoff Roulfs, the hero of the “Battle of the Flight of the Three Pound Shot,” would be appointed second in command. This did little to quiet the dissent for it was well known his father had built the ship, and Gustoff was a proponent of the German cannons.

Prince William of Orange, the Commander of all Dutch forces, arrived unexpectedly in Amsterdam and visited with the Baron at his residency. William , soon to be the “Father of the Netherlands,” knew these were desperate times. The earlier loss of Brussels and the eminent fall of Antwerp made this a desperate hour for the Dutch Republic. William needed the Northern Provinces of Holland and Zeeland to increase their financial support for the war effort. Increased expenditures by the merchants of Amsterdam lay at the heart of that equation. He had come to resolve the conflict between his friend Clifford and the most important city inside the new Republic. Abraham’s Youngest Son gave Prince William a practical tool to placate his supporters in Holland’s richest and most energetic of the seven Provinces. He decided to send the controversial ship on a mission to re-establish trade in the east, long dormant since the break with the king. The mere thought of reviving that profitable trade should soothe the hurt feelings among Amsterdam’s merchant men. The solution began with a joint proclamation by the Estate General and the City lauding the contributions the Baron Clifford van Weir had made to Amsterdam. A holiday was proclaimed in his honor. The Baron, the good soldier, resigned his position and accepted reassignment to Prince Williams’ command. His experienced horsemen were needed, more than ever, as Prince William manipulated the small Dutch Army against the larger and more powerful foreign forces. William did not have enough soldiers to defend the free Northern Provinces and repulse the massive Spanish Army ravaging the south. At least he could now send the Baron and his cavalrymen to harass his foe, as they had done earlier in the war.

The Prince of Orange reaffirmed Captain Jon van Weir’s command of Abraham’s Youngest Son, and gave the young captain thirty days to prepare the ship for the secret diplomatic mission through the world’s most dangerous waters. It was ironic that the bulk of the Dutch trade in things like fish, fabrics and grain was still being carried on between the warring parties while Spain and its ally France, by their geographical location adjacent to the sea lanes leading to the east, and their influences with Italian city states, was able to exclude Dutch ships from the lucrative trade in the Mediterranean. The ship’s mission was to carry three Dutch emissaries empowered to renegotiate new trade agreements with Italian city states, particularly Venice, and if possible even with the hated Ottomans. Jon began by appointing a ship’s master with excellent navigational skills and acquiring a ship’s pilot with Mediterranean experience. A dozen crack infantrymen and a few seamen fluent in the languages spoken along the Mediterranean coast were added to the ship’s company. William convinced the Estate General to discreetly pay all outstanding bills for the ship’s construction and provide some advanced wages to the sailors and soldiers making the journey.

Though Jon van Weir was young, he had already grown into a sophisticated young noble. After his mother’s death the Baron, his father went to war. Lord Karl, the Baron’s younger brother, was given the responsibility of raising Jon. Karl saw to it that Jon possessed the skills needed to project a style of ruling suited to the opening moments of the Dutch Golden Age. While his father was away, becoming an almost legendary military hero, his uncle, had modernized the way the family functioned in governing the Droger Land. Lord Karl had prepared his nephew for a newly evolving role when Jon became the next great Lord. In the democratic atmosphere of the day, Karl taught Jon to do more leading than commanding. His uncle saw to it that his nephew grew up without the usual class restraints of former lords like his father. Karl taught his nephew to be comfortable working with all social classes, while retaining the skills needed to command them.

Those new skills were helpful when Jon van Weir spent much of the last year monitoring the ship’s construction. Henri Roulfs found it far easier to bond with the likable young man than his sometimes difficult father. Jon’s youthful enthusiasm for the project reignited the spirit of creativity within the middle-age shipbuilder; at times it was the young noble’s input that help drive the innovative design. Jon also became a bridge between Henri Roulfs and his estranged son Gustoff. While the father and son had not united, they were able to communicate through Jon. Gustoff’s knowledge of big guns helped his father design a frame strong enough to carry the weight of the ordinance best suited for the warship.

For Henri initially found himself in a shipbuilder’s quandary. He was given two conflicting goals to overcome during the design process. The first by the father was the requirement that the ship have speed to escape powerful enemy vessels. The second by the son that the ship be dominant enough to confront any adversary met on the high seas. While the son wanted a fighting ship that could slug it out with larger warships, the shipwright knew his father wanted a fast ship able to maneuver out of harm’s way if necessary. By the time the hull was completed the builder was satisfied with the narrow underbody and sleek lines. When he placed the set of three tall masts properly and viewed them being rigged in square and triangular sails, he knew the goals of speed and maneuverability was met.

Henri’s also knew his use of dense oak for the framing and planking made the ship extremely strong. Each gun position was reinforced by a live oak knee that would solidly brace the gun deck for the weight and recoil of even the heaviest guns. Space, rather than any structural weakness, limited the number to five cannons on each side of the ship. Gustoff‘s recommended choice of ten powerful but light-weight bronze cannons met Jon’s criteria and it was on that gun deck that Henri introduced a new revolutionary design. While a second deck for cannons was becoming more commonplace in European warships, the deck usually had small round holes called “ports” which allowed little traverse for cannons. Henry devised a larger rectangular opening for each cannon that allowed gunners more space to aim their cannon. He also developed hinged scuttles on his ports, allowing them to be closed when the ship encountered stormy seas. Henri felt confident he met the requirements of both father and son.

Jon van Weir and Gustoff Roulfs began spending a great deal of time together whenever Jon came to Amsterdam. Gustoff was not quite ready to unite with his family in Rotterdam. The discussions between the two young men ranged far beyond the ship’s cannons. They included every weapon, from the swivel guns on the quarterdeck deck to the best variety of small arms for the crew. A bond developed between the young men. Jon van Weir, the outgoing but guarded aristocrat and Gustoff Roulfs, the excitable burger’s son, became an unlikely dynamic duo. The tall, handsome, well-educated young noble and the stocky, boisterous, illiterate, slightly older burger became a likable winning team. They became true friends and almost brothers. They enjoyed each other’s company and trusted in the other’s judgment. Both had suffered through parental difficulties. Jon felt his father had abandoned him at an early age; Gustoff felt his mother loved him, but never really cared for him. Sometimes they confided these painful feelings with each other. They found they made good decisions collectively and would debate the minutia of an issue until both were satisfied with the result.

Those solid decisions and Henri’s brilliance in designing the forerunner of a frigate, would give them an advantage over enemy vessels they met. They were a team. Jon as captain would decide when to run or fight: Gustoff’s would see to it that their ship’s weapons were used to full advantage. They had faith in the ship’s strength. It would withstand the considerable recoil of the cannons. Those guns would be accurate, powerful, and devastating. They believed they had the power to shatter the hull of any ship and could teach their sailors to use the weapons. Most importantly, Jon recognized that Gustoff would be a good and trustworthy companion on the long voyage to Italy. Both were well aware that their ancestors had shared similar adventures in the past. Each longed for this adventure.

The young captain laid the groundwork for their departure by meeting often with the ship’s key personnel. Without disclosing the destination, he let a few important crew members know it would be a long and difficult journey they might not survive. He often spoke with the entire crew about the weapons because he wanted them to know that this ship was first and foremost a fighting ship. He gave the master the responsibility of purchasing a six month’s supply of food and stores needed for a long voyage. The master and the pilot were told to acquire charts and instruments needed to navigate to the Italian peninsula. He told them he hoped to keep the ship as far away from the hostile shorelines as much as possible. He appointed a seasoned seaman to the Boatswain’s position. The master said the large man had studied painting in Brussels before abandoning his brushes for life on the sea. The new boatswain was told to select a few of the crew’s most trusted sailors to help acquire supplies. Since the master and the new boatswain would have the responsibility of the day-to-day operations aboard, Jon told them he wanted to be immediately informed of any unusual event, no matter how small. He told them he and Gustoff would take direct command in times of danger or uncertainly.

Gustoff was given the additional duties of Master of Arms. It would be his responsibility to mold twenty-five crewmen and twelve soldiers into an effective fighting unit. Gustoff’s experience and extraordinary knowledge of weaponry made him the perfect choice. The crew, aware of his reputation, followed his instructions and learned to load and fire the cannons and the small swivels with proficiency after three weeks of never-ending firing exercises. The controversial German cannons performed flawlessly during the training. Each seaman was also expected to become competent with a pistol or musket. Gustoff saw to it that each became proficient at loading, firing, and rapidly reloading their personal weapon. Knowing the crew enjoyed the pure act of discharging a weapon, Gustoff brilliantly used those almost boyish desires to create marksmen. A silhouetted target of a man was placed on the railing of the ship with each crew member allowed to fire, not until he hit the target, but until the silhouette was missed. Once the target was missed, he returned his weapon to the captain’s cabin and found himself assigned less pleasant duty for the remainder of that day. Being able to hit the target each time became important. Gustoff’s excited voice often reminded the men that their lives may well depend on accuracy. It was clear to all that Gustoff expected them to consistently hit the mark at such a short distance. Eventually every crew member did. Gustoff also had the veteran soldiers teach the less experienced sailors the best way to use other bladed weapons.

Discipline was an important part of Gustoff’s training sessions; the crew needed to instinctively follow commands without question and they soon learn to do just that. The constant boom of the ship’s cannons and the sound of small arms fire on the Zuider Zee disturbed people on land but the loud noises continued until Jon knew the ship and crew were ready for any eventuality. The week before their scheduled departure, life became more peaceful, with everyone concentrating on unloading the cart loads of stores arriving daily. These supplies needed to be stowed properly below deck. It was each crewman’s responsibility to find a place for sleeping that did not interfere with the operation of the ship. (This was a time well before ship’s masters borrowed the idea of hammocks from the Indians in South America.) The presence of a dozen soldiers made the ship crowded and left little space to construct pens for the livestock that provided fresh meat during the journey. Taking fewer animals meant a blander diet on a journey that all knew would be uncomfortable. It would be wet and cold as they made their way through the Atlantic Ocean, and humid and hot when they reached Mediterranean waters.

Abraham’s Youngest Son began the journey as planned, within the darkness of night. There were no grand farewells or the commotion of relatives bidding goodbye. Their mission demanded the trip begin in secrecy. Appropriately, it began with a quiet prayer before they raised the anchor and slipped out of Amsterdam heading toward the North Sea and the English Channel. When they were midway through the channel, the captain summoned all hands and told them their mission was to deliver the three on-board representatives of the Dutch Republic to Venice. Jon told the crew of the extreme dangers of sailing past France, Portugal, and Spain before reaching the treacherous Straits of Gibraltar. He emphasized that this initial part of their journey would be the least threatening portion of their voyage. Upon reaching the warmer waters of the Mediterranean, they must then run a gauntlet of Spanish, French and Morisco privateers and be prepared at any time to meet the main battle fleets of Spain or the Ottoman Empire somewhere along the way. All surmised that spies had already alerted the Spanish and their French allies of the mission. John told his crew they would survive the journey by using the Stella Maris and the navigator’s instruments to guide them in the general direction. Once they cleared the English Channel, he planned to sail far from any coastline. They would rely on the help of God, good readings at night, and the ship’s compass to navigate their way to the Straits of Gibraltar without detection. Before dismissing them, he reminded each to ask God to bless the ship and its mission. To their astonishment, he also told them that not only Jesus, but all the ancient gods of his homeland would also protect the ship he commanded.

The master proved to be a gifted navigator. His readings of the stars, kept the ship well out of sight of any coastline but always on course. Abraham’s Youngest Son sailed past France and Spain with good wind and fair weather. They sailed so far out to sea that they never encountered another ship, until they came upon a group of startled Portuguese fishing boats off the coast of Portugal. The master had turned a bit prematurely to enter the Strait of Gibraltar. A mistake caused by a few nights of cloudily skies. Though Portugal was technically an ally of Spain, the fishermen willingly gave the Dutch ship its true location near Lisbon. Jon decided to replenish the ship’s depleted stores by confiscating cheese, fish and a few barrels of Portuguese wine from the fishermen, but left the “enemy” fishing fleet in peace.

It was a rainy night as they entered the seventeen mile wide Strait and the storm continued for many days. At one point the high winds forced them within sight of Tangiers on the Moroccan coast but the same foul weather protected them from encountering privateers. Despite, the strong winds, the master was able to turn the ship away from the coastline. The weather changed and they sailed with good wind until another series of storms pushed them again toward the Arabian shoreline off the coast of Algiers. Here, they were confronted by a number of small fast Arab vessels which foolishly began to chase them until they were easily driven off by Jachtschip’s musket and swivel fire. They saw no large ships until they sailed between Sicily and Malta, where they frequently observed tall sails in the distance. To avoid those vessels, Jon was forced to make frequent course adjustments when warships attempted to intercept them. The Jachtschip’s speed foiled all pursuits. They were at sea for many months when they made the final hard right turn into the Ionian Sea. Morale soared as the tired crew could now envision a straight sail past Greece with a clear corridor to Venice. As was sometimes the case in Mediterranean waters, the wind suddenly disappeared. The sea became calm and still and Abraham’s Youngest Son was left drifting somewhere past Sicily.

“A sail!” was the cry from the lookout at the top of the main mast. The sharp-eyed seaman had spotted a single ship on the otherwise empty horizon. At first, Jon had little concern because the other ship would be suffering the same lack of wind, but to be safe he sent the experienced pilot aloft to appraise the distant ship. The pilot scrutinized the ship for a long time before reporting back to the captain. The pilot was concerned; he thought the ship a warship, a Turkish or Spanish galley, which used sails and oars for propulsion. If it were Ottoman, it probably had their Christian slaves rowing at a fierce pace to reach Abraham’s Youngest Son. The Turkish captain would know they were a European ship and that any sailing ship would be all but immobile in the windless calm sea. All galleys had the advantage of mobility when there was little wind. A large galley like this would also have an advantage in firepower. Some carried gigantic cannons capable of firing a fifty pound ball. Jon called the ship to arms. Sailors ran to pick up weapons while the soldiers appeared for the first time in full armor. All ten cannons were quickly primed and loaded with ten pound iron balls. Each soldier and sailor took his assigned battle position. Everyone watched the slowly approaching galley with a growing sense of anxiety.

It soon became apparent it was a large Turkish galley that was closing the distance between them. Jon knew some Turkish galleys carried a crew of four hundred, an array of cannons, and a few hundred of the fierce Janissaries, the greatest Muslim warriors. The galley would try to rake the Son’s main deck with cannon and musket fire before lowering a ramp to unload a screaming hoard of Janissaries on to its deck. These fierce warriors would be armed with spears, swords, knives and guns. They would inevitably overcome his outnumbered crew by sheer numbers alone. With the cannons loaded, Gustoff returned to the quarterdeck. He and Jon began bantering about the weather, a conversation the crew had overheard many times during the journey. It seemed odd that the young officers seemed almost oblivious to the oncoming peril. After a time, Jon ordered the ship’s main sail furled so the launch could be unlashed and lifted into the water. The boatswain and an armed boat crew were ordered into the boat. A line was attached to the launch and the ship’s bowsprit. The main sail was again raised as the ship’s launch attempted to tow the ship away from the on-coming pursuer. The nervous crew knew the best effort of the men in the launch would only, at best, buy additional time. If the wind did not return they were all aware their ship was probably doomed. The galley was rapidly closing the distance between them.

The young officers seemed remarkably cool as everyone began to be able to observe the activity of the Saracens on the galley’s main deck. A group of brightly clad men were lashing small cannon to their bow. This meant they were not carrying larger cannons and certainly none that could fire a fifty pound ball. When the single gun was finally discharged, a small ball fell harmlessly into the sea far behind them, but the distance between the ships was diminishing. Jon and Gustoff knew the real threat would come from a Moorish boarding party. Jon motioned the rowers in the launch to stop rowing. He signaled for them to rest. On their stationary Jachtschip, the crew was fearful, but the Dutch sailors and soldiers seem resigned to make the Moors pay a price for their lives. The blood of countless generations of heroes ran in their veins and all were resigned to accept whatever fate God had ordained for them, but only after one hell of a fight. When the enemy ship was within a hundred yards, Gustoff returned to the gun deck and Jon gave a loud command to the boatswain. The little boat came alive with all eight men pulling their oars vigorously as the little boat began to make a forty-five degree turn moving Abraham’s Youngest Son. With the tow line still attached, the maneuver positioned the starboard side of Abraham’s Youngest Son to face the oncoming menace.

Captain Jon van Weir gave another brisk command, this time to fire. It seemed an eternity before all five starboard guns, which had been individually aimed by Gustoff fired a broadside in unison. A broadside was a tactic that was new to naval warfare and a surprise to the Moors. Gustoff’s volley sent five ten-pound iron cannon balls slamming into the large bow of the approaching galley. The well aimed volley shattered an entire section of the enemy hull around the water line. The Moorish ship pitched upward, rowing ceased, and miraculously the enemy ship began to take on water at its bow. The Dutch crew watched with delight as the Moors attempted to stop the flow by filling the great hole in the hull with anything at hand, including their dead. At Jon’s next command, the launch reversed directions turning one hundred and eighty degrees as the boatswain’s rowers pulled the ship’s port guns into position for another broadside. That second volley was even more effective and did extensive damage to the same area, spreading devastation among the Moors working to repair the previous damage. Many were shredded into pieces by the balls and splinters from their own wooden hull. That second broadside created an unstoppable flow of sea water. The bow of the ship was becoming slowly submerged and the once powerful galley began to sink. Jon and Gustoff were probably the only persons on the Dutch ship that were not totally surprised by such a rapid demise of such a fierce adversary.

Yet the Moorish captain wasn’t ready to admit defeat despite his sinking ship. He launched two smaller boats as his ship began to submerge. Each was filled with Janissaries in a desperate attempt to board and capture Abraham’s Youngest Son. As they began filling those boats, Gustoff was already having his gun crews reload the port-side cannons. At Jon’s command the crew’s muskets and swivel guns began slaughtering the Saracens in the small boats. Once the cannons were reloaded, Gustoff’s rapid fire sank both boats before they could reach the Dutch ship. At the same time, the galley began to sink. The Moors left most of the Christian slaves chained to their oars to perish. The Moorish captain disappeared along with his ship and most of his slaves beneath the waves. Some slaves did escape; surprisingly, among the survivors, were a number of females, the victims of a recent Moorish slavery expedition in Italy. The women swam as best they could toward the Dutch ship where they were taken on board. Captain Jon ordered the men in the ship’s launch to pick up only manacled men clinging to debris. Corsairs were left in the sea. Whenever a small group of Saracens swam near the ship, they were dispatched with musket fire. Abraham’s Youngest Son rescued ten young women and a dozen male galley slaves. Among the galley slaves were two former English seamen but most were former Venetians sailors. All were overjoyed at their good fortune.

With supplies short, and twenty-two additional mouths to feed, a modest celebration was held on the main deck and the contents of the one remaining cask of Portuguese wine and a little food was distributed to the crew and the new guests. The ship’s master made a speech thanking God for his favor, saluting Jon’s leadership, and praising Gustoff and his gun crews for their accurate fire. The three Dutch diplomats promised that the Estate General would be notified of the heroic actions of the captain and crew. The celebration lasted until a slight breeze arose and the ship was able to continue its journey to Venice. Jon warned the crew that the freed women were to be treated with the utmost respect and rather naively assumed nothing more would be needed to be said.

The morning after their incredible victory, a sense of pure invincibility enveloped the crew of Abraham’s Youngest Son, boosted by the presence of the surviving young, pretty, and extremely grateful Italian women. Having escaped a life of servitude in a Turkish harem, their deliverance made each looked upon the crew as heroic figures. The young women were in remarkably good shape, considering the ordeal they endured since their capture on the mainland. The grace of God and the value each held in an Ottoman auction had kept them well fed and less abused than one might expect. The victory made the crew believe that God had preordained they would reach Venice safely. Confidence was further elevated when the freed Venetians informed them they had sunk one of the most feared sea raiders in the entire Ottoman fleet. This galley was part of the new Moorish Fleet built after the Battle of Lepanto and had a history of terrorizing the Ionian Sea with impunity. It had captured many Christian ships and led Moorish slavery expeditions that were depopulating parts of the Italian coastline. The freed galley slaves, many once skilled Venetian sailors, were as surprised as their Turkish masters that a little ship like Abraham’s Youngest Son could have such unexpected firepower. They had never seen cannons used so effectively in a sea battle.

The crew affectionately began calling Abraham’s Youngest Son a true Jachtschip. They thought their ship a true hunter, because Jon and Gustoff had seemingly laid an ambush for the more powerful galley when everyone else felt all hope was lost. An infection of affection spread throughout the crew for their beloved Jachtschip. The drudgery of constantly washing down the decks with sea water to keep the wood moist and the ship watertight now became a ritual of love in which even the passengers participated. The females were made comfortable on the far end of gun deck and sail cloth was hung to give them some privacy. With the women below deck, near-naked men carefully spruced up Abraham’s Youngest Son. Every plank was moistened with sea water, and fish oil was applied to the dryer masts and wooden parts of the rigging. Sails were cleaned and mended, hatches were opened and fresh sea air was directed into the ship’s interior. Accumulated human waste was removed from the hole, and the bilge was flushed clean with a mixture of vinegar and sea water, removing most of the foul odors that all wooden ships acquired on long voyages. Gun crews polished and re-polished each cannon until green gave way to bronze, which shined golden through the open gun ports. Because of the women on board, the ships officers, crew, and even the diplomats spontaneously began to cleanse themselves. The men helped each other take sea-baths, while their soiled clothes were cleaned by trailing them in nets behind the ship. A little precious fresh water was used to rinse them. Individual bedding was given the same treatment without the rinse. Soon the crew, like the ship, was refreshed. Their hard work had created a better environment. Though the ship was extremely overcrowded, the victory and the cleaning had made the ship a more pleasant place for everyone. The normal irritating sounds of the Son: groaning wood, creaking riggings and flapping sails, became music for everyone on board.

Because good fortune sometimes comes in bunches, they soon encountered a relatively lightly armed carrack flying the flag of the Kingdom of Naples, a loyal Spanish Dominion on the lowest portion of the Italian Peninsula. At first Jon used the threat of the ship’s guns to negotiate a purchase of fruit, vegetables, and fresh water from the Carrack’s captain who upon hearing the details of the encounter with the Ottoman galley refused all payment for the food and water and willingly gave up a part of his own captain’s stores. The Carrack’s captain considered his status as a Christian sailor above any allegiance to a far-away king in Spain. Jon declined his offer to deliver the freed slaves to the Italian mainland. It was a decision he would soon question. The fresh food revived everyone’s strength and spurred social interaction between the ladies and the crew. It became apparent to Jon; it was the women who were initiating these intimate contacts. Since the overcrowded conditions left little room for privacy, it forced him to repeat his warning regarding fraternization. The women, in better physical shape than the galley slaves, found a spirit of recklessness had come with liberation. To give the females something more constructive to do, Jon allowed them to take over the preparations of the meals, which delighted everyone. He reminded the women that Abraham’s Youngest Son was a good Christian ship, and that God would only bless their mission if the passengers and crew behaved in an appropriate manner. Jon thought to himself that the ancient gods of his homeland would have expected such behavior. The captain told the women, “When they reach the shore, you are free to behave anyway you want, but on board such conduct must be restrained.” The women began to fear the angry young captain would return them to the sea and the intimate fraternization ceased. Yet even with this distraction, the ship sailed on with a new confidence, secure enough to occasionally sail within plain sight of the Italian coast line.