Buccaneer (18 page)

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Authors: Dudley Pope

Tags: #jamaica, #spanish main, #caribbean, #pirates, #ned yorke, #spaniards, #france, #royalist, #dudley pope, #buccaneer, #holland

BOOK: Buccaneer
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“Lanterns, sir: use them ordinary, or keep them hidden?”

“Ordinary – the Dons have no idea who we are: we might be a ship from Spain for all they know, though I imagine they assume we’re Dutchmen.”

Saxby said: “I’ll get the first of the canoes hoisted out, then?”

Yorke waited a few moments. This first visit to a Spanish port was not how they had imagined it. They had sailed into an open bay at dusk and anchored as though their visit was usual. He and Saxby had originally thought of them creeping in like thieves in the night. No doubt as they worked their way westward, near the bigger ports, it would come to that, but here in Carúpano – what would make the best first impression, the
Griffin
’s regular boat or a canoe?

“I’ll go in with the boat to meet the mayor, or whoever it is, and we’ll have one canoe lying out a hundred yards or so with the pistols and muskets in case of trouble.”

“Very well, sir: the boats’ crews, then. Who will command the canoe?”

“What about John Burton?”

“I was going to suggest him, sir,” Saxby said. “He’s done wonders training our men – and the lady,” he added, nodding towards Aurelia, “–with the small arms. He’s about our best seaman, and he’ll understand what he’s supposed to be doing.”

“So Burton it is. And a dozen men?”

“Five paddles a side means ten men, and if you need help from pistols and muskets, I’d like to see another ten men…”

“Twenty! We’ll have hardly anyone left in the
Griffin
!”

“We need only a dozen or so – after all, we have Mrs Judd and Mrs Bullock!”

Ned laughed and said: “Very well, let Burton pick his men. He knows them all by now and he’ll know who are the best shots with the coolest heads.”

“Yes, sir, and I’ll choose your crew myself. Six oars, bowman, boatkeeper if you need one. Eight should do it.”

When Yorke nodded, Saxby said carefully: “I’d suggest that you go in without a light. Or, rather, you use a lantern with a screen across the front. It might be a good idea to arrive suddenly out of the darkness at the jetty and ask for the mayor. If they watch a boat and lantern coming in, you might find a crowd of rascals and vagabonds waiting for you.”

“You’re right. But have Burton and the canoe waiting as far away as possible, where he can hear me shout, but so no one on the jetty knows he’s there. Tell him to watch out for local people fishing in small boats.”

Yorke had a brief conversation with Burton while his oarsmen were climbing over the rope ladder and down into the boat. Burton was quite confident; he had chosen his men with care and had all the pistols loaded and in a skip which he was going to keep beside him. He would only wind up the wheel-lock mechanisms at the last moment.

“Five of us have spanning keys,” he told Yorke, “just in case something happens to me, and of course the musketeers each have their own key.”

“But the musket mechanisms are protected against spray or some clumsy work with a paddle?”

“Yes, sir: Mrs Judd and her women have made some cloth covers to go over the breeches.”

“And Mr Saxby has given you your instructions?”

“Yes, sir. It’s such a dark night that only people to seaward of us would see the canoe, just a dark patch against the lights of the town. I can’t see fishermen noticing us, but even if they did they won’t leave their lines!”

“And when we return, we’ll hold up the lantern.”

“Very well, sir.”

Yorke went to the bulwarks, where Saxby assured him the boat was ready. He was disappointed that Aurelia was not there, but she might be superstitious about brief farewells, or embarrassed at kissing him in front of the men.

He scrambled down the ladder, stepped cautiously across the thwarts, careful not to tread on the oarsmen’s feet, and took the tiller.

“Cast off aft…cast off forward…”

The six oarsmen rowed steadily and Yorke reflected that considering that they had been plantation workers until a few weeks ago, they had made the change to being seamen with gratifying ease.

There were few lights at the eastern end of the town, and like most of the others dim, as though they were rush candles showing through open windows. It was a hot night, becoming sultry, so few people would have the shutters closed. The cluster of lights indicated the centre of the town and then became fewer to the west. The town
plaza
, church and
alcaldia
would be there, and it was unlikely that the mayor, the
alcalde
, lived far from the town hall.

Now the lights were showing up the buildings and Yorke was surprised to find they were nearer in than he thought. The jetty, which he had seen in the last of the light, was simply a stone-faced structure running parallel with the shore. With a north wind the seas would smash any vessel alongside it. Still, tonight the highest wave must be a foot or less.

The oars creaked in the rowlocks and Yorke turned to look aft. There was no sign of the canoe. The
Bridewell
had been painted black and by now Burton’s men would be paddling well to seaward of him. Suddenly he realized he could not see the outline of the
Griffin
and for a moment almost froze with a sudden loneliness. Would he be able to find her again? Then he recalled that waving the lantern in her direction would bring a response from Saxby.

He was beginning to realize the vast difference between a plantation owner who also owned a small ship capable of an occasional voyage to another island, and, in an emergency, a voyage to England, and a buccaneer. He found himself using the word in preference to “pirate”: if there had been a Royalist governor on one of the islands, he would have been able to get a commission, so that the
Griffin
became a legal privateer.

A sudden curse in Spanish, a black shape passing down the starboard side, and he realized he had missed by a few feet a rowing boat with a pair of Spanish fishermen sitting in it, tending their rods and lines.

“Bowman! Keep a sharper lookout!”

The bowman made neither excuse nor reply and Yorke guessed the fellow was as startled by the encounter as the fishermen.

Equally suddenly the jetty was almost alongside and three feet above them, with four more fishermen on top scrambling and cursing as they hauled their fishing lines clear of the boat.

The men on the larboard side just had time to lift their oars out of the way before the boat was alongside and he was thankful to see the bowman jumping on top of the jetty with a rope, followed by the boatkeeper, who leapt up from his seat just forward of Yorke. There was no doubt a series of correct orders to give at moments like these but Yorke contented himself with the knowledge that even if he gave them the boatmen would not understand them.

There were stone bollards along the top of the jetty and the bowman and the boatkeeper secured the painter and sternfast to them while Yorke scrambled up followed by the oarsmen.

By now the four fishermen, calmed down after their shouts of “Caramba”, had walked up to watch, muttering to themselves and, Yorke suspected, realizing that the visitors were smugglers. Certainly they showed no fear.

Yorke walked over to them and asked a question which almost exhausted his entire Spanish vocabulary: “
Donde alcalde
?”

The four shadowy figures seemed to go into a conference with each other, repeating Yorke’s words (precisely it seemed to him) but without comprehension. They appeared to try different emphases, as though tasting them. “
Don
de alcade? Don
de
alc
alde
?…”

Suddenly Aurelia said in what Yorke guessed must be perfect Spanish: “Will you please take us to the mayor?”

The men, as surprised as Yorke, exclaimed: “
Una doña!
” and then, their natural politeness overcoming their surprise, bowed to her and said: “Yes,
señora
, please come with us!”

In the darkness they could not distinguish Aurelia: she stood among the oarsmen and Yorke knew she would be wearing breeches. The boatkeeper passed up the shaded lantern but Yorke decided that its light would only emphasize the weakness of his force, so he told them to keep it ready in the boat.

Already the fishermen were striding along the jetty, followed by the oarsmen, and Yorke had to hurry to catch up.

How had Aurelia joined the boat? She must have taken the bowman’s place. No wonder they had nearly rammed that rowing boat and the jetty. As he strode along, he stumbled now and again because the surface of the jetty was uneven, and they had been at sea long enough that for a few hours walking on shore gave them the impression of climbing up a gentle hill that moved slightly. He thought of ordering her back into the boat – but would she be any safer there, with the bowman and the boatkeeper? He cursed as he realized there was only the boatkeeper: Aurelia had been the bowman, so only one person now guarded the boat instead of two. Or should he keep her with him, where he could watch her and where at least the six oarsmen could help protect her?

He had an uneasy feeling that her command of Spanish was their best weapon, and she would insist on coming on shore at each of the many towns and villages they had yet to visit.

The group ahead of him swung into what was obviously the town
plaza
. There was a small and shadowy building forming the landward side, and a large church opposite which had a door open and through which he could see some votive candles burning. There were houses on the other two sides and the fishermen were heading towards the centre house on the west side, one with a lantern on a hook beside the door.

Before Yorke could stop them, the fishermen were hammering at the door, shouting cheerfully a word which he could distinguish very clearly and understand at once. “
Contrabandistas, señor! Contrabandistas!

But it was immediately obvious that the fishermen were not raising an alarm; they were (too loudly for Yorke’s liking) simply announcing visitors, and if the tone of their voices and general manner were any guide, not unwelcome ones either.

The door flung open and a stream of Spanish came from a small, paunchy man lit from behind by a candelabra in the room and from the front by the lantern hooked on the door frame.

Aurelia, broad-brimmed hat pulled well down over her face, stepped forward and spoke quickly. The man – Yorke guessed he must be the mayor – stood dumbfounded, his hands held out as if in supplication. Aurelia seemed to wait for him to answer and when he said nothing started speaking again.

By now the mayor was recovering from his surprise: his hands dropped to his sides, and almost immediately the right hand rose to tidy his hair and then both gave his moustache a twirl. As soon as Aurelia stopped speaking, he gave a deep bow, waved away the fishermen, and gestured for her to come into the house. She looked over her shoulder and Ned stepped forward.

She took his hand and pulled him through the door so that by the time the mayor was back inside the room she was ready to introduce Yorke.

The mayor assumed Yorke spoke Spanish and launched into a speech which, from the number of times the hands gestured towards Aurelia, was in her praise. Once he had stopped, she said: “He welcomes us. He is surprised to meet a lady in such circumstances. I am of great beauty, he says, which shows what good eyesight he has since my face is almost completely hidden by this hat.”

“It’s the breeches,” Ned said facetiously. “Spanish mayors delight in them – on women smugglers!”

Aurelia stood to attention as though she was an obedient member of the crew. “What do you want me to tell him about our business?”

“Tell him we have for sale sugar, an assortment of pots and pans, cutlery, farming implements. If he wants details, you know the items.”

She launched into a long description, pausing every now and again as the mayor asked a question. Finally the man made a brief comment.

“He is interested in all the items, particularly those for the kitchen. They are very short of them here. He says the wives have been complaining.”

“When was the last ship here?”

“Nearly a year ago: he mentioned it arrived on his wife’s saint’s day.”

“Ask him when they want to come and inspect the goods. Not more than twenty of them on board at a time and we will collect them with our boats.”

As soon as Aurelia translated that, the mayor started a furious speech, lifting his hands towards Heaven and clenching both fists as though he was thumping a table. Aurelia waited until he paused for breath and at once began talking to Ned, making it impossible for the mayor to resume.

“He will not agree to that. He says if you take twenty of Carúpano’s leading citizens on board, what is to stop you sailing off and ransoming them?”

The idea seemed so ludicrous to Ned that he laughed and was promptly reproved by Aurelia. “It is not funny,” she said firmly. “The mayor is very concerned, and I think he has a right to be.”

“Yes, yes, my love, I was laughing only because obviously
I
have a lot to learn about smugglers. Tell him I will land twenty of my people as hostages while his people are on board.”

Aurelia translated, listened to the reply and said: “He says thirty because his twenty are important people and thus more valuable.”

Yorke shrugged his shoulders with elaborate unconcern. “Twenty-five, and if he’s not careful I’ll include Mrs Judd.”

Stifling a smile, Aurelia translated and the mayor nodded.

“Do they want to come on board now or in daylight?”

The mayor suggested eight o’clock next morning, and then added casually that it would be more convenient if the ship came alongside the jetty: it would save so much rowing, because at least sixty people would want to buy.

When Aurelia told him that, Ned shook his head firmly. “Buyers can put their mark on the items they choose, and they will pay when the boats land them at the jetty. If the buyer isn’t there to pay for his goods, they’re taken back to the ship.”

“Oh Ned,” Aurelia said, “that is being
too
distrustful!”

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