Uncharted Waters (Tides of Fortune Book 5) by Steven Becker

Author:Steven Becker [Becker, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The White Marlin Press
Published: 2019-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

“You and the captain have a nice chat?” he asked, pushing a finger into my chest.

Instead of reacting, which would have given him cause to strike me, I turned sideways to slide by him. Two steps up the ladder I felt a hand grip my shoulder.

“I’d like a word.”

“Right, then.” I turned back to him.

“Captain’s gout has him taking to the drink. I’m not sayin’ he’s not fit for command, but I’ll be watching you carefully.”

I nodded, understanding both the threat and the hint of mutiny. He released me, and as I walked back to the hold, I thought about this information. A mutiny aboard would be the worst possible outcome. One that would keep me well away from Havana and Shayla. Whatever I could do to help the captain until we were back in port, I would.

My request to allow the crew to spend the night unfettered had fallen on deaf ears. If the captain wasn’t going to help us, there was no point asking the first mate. With the guard following behind me, I climbed down into the hold and allowed him to lock the wrist and ankle irons. I might have gotten mercy for myself, but I’d always thought I should receive no better treatment than my crew. I regretted that decision as the night wore on and I suffered another night with little sleep.

We split our resources in the morning and with Mason in charge of the divers, I set about making another helmet. After our experience making the first one, and with the help of the surprisingly adept carpenter, it went together quickly, but the first mate and crew wouldn’t be back until tomorrow with the pine pitch. It had been a small source of amusement to see the mate’s unusually foul mood this morning after the captain assigned him the task.

With my work at a standstill and the second skiff and half our men out in search of pine trees to harvest pitch, I called over to the working skiff and asked Mason to pick me up when the divers surfaced. It was crowded without the other skiff for support, but I wanted to be where the action was. Mason was level-headed, and a top-notch navigator, but had little knowledge of dive operations. Rhames was the fighter of the group—not the finder.

“Any luck?” I asked the divers who had just surfaced.

“No, Captain.”

They looked defeated. I’d already laid the groundwork with the captain and first mate for what I suspected would be our next step. They had both seemed resigned to having to dismember the wreck. Having lowered their expectations of a quick reward, with the captain in his quarters, and the first mate off finding our pitch, the afternoon might be the perfect time to gather the supplies we needed for our escape.

Thirty minutes later the second diver surfaced, and gave the same report. Gathering the men around, I told them my plan. The looks of frustration turned to determination and I expected by sundown, we would have what we needed.

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