Barracuda: The Fighting Anthonys, Book 3 by Michael Aye

Author:Michael Aye
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sea Stories, Fiction : Men's Adventure, War & Military
Publisher: Boson Books
Published: 2011-07-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Damme, but I don’t know what’s worse, Lord Anthony thought. This pain from the wound, nausea from Caleb’s concoction or the headache from the hammering on deck.

Earl had just come down to visit along with Gabe and the masters from each ship as ordered by Anthony.

“Repairs on Merlin and SeaWolf are about finished so we can soon be underway,” Earl had said.

“We were lucky,” Gabe had said.

Neither Merlin nor SeaWolf had anything other than superficial damage. The captured ship had at one time been a merchant vessel that had been converted into a privateer. She had been armed much like a forty gun frigate. She was old but still seaworthy. At the time of battle she only carried a crew of some two hundred.

However, even from the poor attempt at recordkeeping by her captain, it appeared she had started her cruise with some three hundred and seventy five men. Some of these men were recorded D.D. or discharged dead while others were noted to have been used as prize crews on captured ships. From the initials D.D., Anthony could only assume whoever had tried their hand at recordkeeping had spent some time in the British Navy.

The remaining privateer’s crew appeared to be a mixture of Colonials, French, Spanish and even a few blacks. The records also showed an alarmingly large list of ships and cargos taken.

“Damned busy fellow if you ask me,” Earl had said.

The name on the ship’s stern was the Argus but the ship was definitely Spanish built. Dagan had talked to a few of her crew and they all seemed aware of a “Ghost ship” that deliberately destroyed rather than take its foe.

“She’s called a ghost ship because all the captain leaves behind is the spirits of the dead souls he’s sent to the deep. One of the men we questioned said once he’s blasted away at the ships protecting the convoy, he’ll send a boat to various ships. If a cargo strikes his fancy he’ll take it but just as often he’ll just stand off and fire into a ship until she’s sunk, with no apparent rhyme or reason. Usually it’s a ship what be under British colors.”

All heads turned as Bart spoke. He generally didn’t say much during a conference but when he did it paid to listen.

Lord Anthony looked at his cox’n and queried, “Where did you get this information?”

“From a rogue what ’ad run and signed on with the freebooters,” Bart replied, “I see’d this man wot had tattoos on his arm and ’ad a Kentish accent. So I’s sided up to ’em wid a wet and says we looking for good tars. I told ’em iffen he’d mind ’is manners like and was helpful in giving us-uns some useful ’telegence, life would go better for ’em. Utterwise ’ed be dancing the newgate jig for desertin’.”

Bart’s use of “newgate jig” to threaten a hanging caused a chuckle from the officers. “’Pears’ he seed things me way,” Bart continued, “’Cause after a taste of me wet his tongue loosened up quicker than a whore’s drawers.

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