It happened so fast one minute John and his crew were counting out the booty on the deck of their ship, ‘The Priyanka’, the next they were under attack.
A cry from the shipmate in the crow’s nest high above the deck, like a squawk from a parrot, reached John’s ears,
‘Spanish ship up ahead.’
John’s dark eyes fell upon the Spanish galleon as it sailed towards them, its starch white sails catching the hot Caribbean Sea breeze as the leviathan ship rode upon the swell of the deep blue waters, like a majestic sea horse.
‘All hands on deck,’ John bellowed as his crew sprang into action, stuffing their ill-gotten gains into bulging pockets.
As John strolled up and down the deck, shouting orders to his men he continued to stare at the massive ship that was heading for them.
The year was 1688 and John ’Death Rattle’ Peters and his crew had been turning over a tidy sum for the past few years robbing the Spanish of their gold and silver, looted from the New World as they sailed back home. Sometimes they were employed by the British as a privateer to do this kind of unsavoury work to their rival nation but mostly they were free enterprising as buccaneers or more commonly known to most as pirates.
They were far from land, having sailed from their usual hunting ground for newer booty as the waters around Port Royal were getting packed with other pirates looking for their pieces of eight.
They had found a galleon in these waters heading back to Spain with their treasures snatched from the hands of ancient tribes and as ‘The Priyanka’ was swifter due to her smaller size and having less canons weighing her down attacked the much bigger ship, stealing the treasure.
They killed all those on board, the wooden decks awash with blood as the pirates like a plague of hungry locusts swarmed over the Spanish galleon, their eyes burning with gold lust.
Unfortunately this little venture had cost them. ‘The Priyanka’ had been damaged in the skirmish and now they couldn’t out run this galleon as they normally did.
They had to fight.
John saw the colossal ship turn to starboard, its bow cutting through the white foam, aligning her twenty cannons alongside ‘The Priyanka’s’ exposed flank.
‘Man the cannons,’ John shouted as he saw the galleon come into firing range.
A concussion of cannon fire thundered across the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea a splint second later the starboard side of ‘The Priyanka’ exploded with the impact of the powerful projectiles, her timbers shattering like firewood.
‘Man those cannons, God damn it,’ John said as his ship rocked with the awesome impact of the cannon balls.
At last his men responded with their five cannons but the Spanish had the advantage with the element of surprise and superior fire power.
A cannon ball smashed into the main mast, shattering it like a twig. The crewman in the Crows Nest screamed as he was tipped out, his cries cut short by his skinny body being dashed across the deck, exploding like a sack of overripe melons. The huge sails fell a moment later covering the wreaked body like a shroud.
The ship rocked again as another volley of cannon balls smashed into ‘The Priyanka’ several shots hit her below the waterline. The pirate ship listed to port side as she dangerously began to take on water.
‘Abandon ship,’ John shouted over the cannon fire as the ship rocked yet again under the Spanish onslaught. His men didn’t need to be told twice and they jumped into the water.
As ‘The Priyanka’ tilted the cannons below deck slipped from their moorings and rolled across the lower deck smashing into the ship’s portside, shattering the timber wall. The waters of the Caribbean Sea eagerly rushed in, causing the ship to quicken her sinking.
Above deck it was Bedlam with the surviving crew members jumping into the sea to escape the sinking ship and the Spanish galleon. John dived off the portside of his ship as this was closer to the water and furthest away from the galleon. He swam quickly away from the sinking ship or he’d be dragged down with it to ‘Davy Jones’ Locker,’ along with all the other ship wreaks, dead pirates and sailors.
Some of his crew members were shot by the Spaniards as they bobbed in the sea, like corks from bottles of rum. They cried as the musket balls shot into their bodies before they sunk beneath the choppy waves, never to be seen again.
There was a huge mournful groan as ‘The Priyanka’ finally succumbed to her mortal wounds and the sea claimed her. The last of her crew jumped or fell into the sea and began to swim away. Some were unable to swim and sunk beneath the waves before the ship was fully submerged, their cries cut short as the sea claimed them.
Others began to swim away but were shot by the Spanish Musketeers who now had a clear shot. Others tried to get away but were dragged down with the ship as the immense weight caused a vacuum. They once more joined ‘The Priyanka’ never to see the light of day again, only the internal darkness of death and the deep.
John and the surviving members of the crew swam out of the galleon’s firing range while some unfortunates were caught by wicked iron hooks that were thrown from the side of the galleon, their bodies dragged out of the sea, like flapping fish, their fate sealed.
In time the Spanish got bored of the slaughter, their blood lust spent, leaving the remaining pirates to be dealt with by the sea.
As John watched the galleon sail into the distance several pieces of wreckage popped back up as if King Neptune himself had offered them as gifts. A few pieces of the ship floated upon the water along with some barrels.
John had time to thank whatever gods who had given them a respite before a shout came from one of the pirates that chilled his blood.
‘Shark!’
John turned towards the pirate, a native of these parts who’d grown fat from the culinary delights that the islands had to offer. He was pointing at a dorsal fin that cut through the deep turquoise waters, like a cutlass heading straight towards him.
As they all looked with wide, shocked eyes the fin smoothly sunk beneath the waves.
As John was wondering where the shark had gone a sickening scream erupted from the rotund pirate as the shark attacked. Blood gushed from his screaming mouth and John saw a flurry of thrashing limbs, teeth and tail before the pirate was seen no more. The blue waters of the Caribbean Sea momentarily stained crimson, the only sign that there had been the pirate there at all.
‘Oh sweet Jesus,’ another pirate screamed as more sharks appeared, enticed by the blood.
‘Get to the wreckage,’ John cried as he swam towards the nearest piece, which was part of the main deck. He could see fins all around him and men screaming in panic and pain. John saw a huge mouth filled with sharp teeth rise out of the water like a leviathan and swallow a man whole. Its huge mouth encasing the panic stricken pirate like a coffin before the powerful jaws snapped shut, severing one outstretched arm, before the creature disappeared beneath the crimson waters with its meaty prize.
John prayed that he’d make it to the makeshift raft in time. As he swam passed another crew mate he saw him go under in an eruption of scarlet as a shark took him. John swam harder desperate to get to the piece of wreckage before it was too late.
He was within touching distance when a head popped up, its eyes open in horror and mouth twisted in a silent scream. John knocked it aside in disgust and carried on swimming towards his prize.
With horror John felt a shark brush against his legs and he kicked out trying to scare the shark off. Up ahead he saw another pirate who was reaching for the raft. John grabbed his foot and dragged him away from the relative safety of the raft and into the path of the shark.
John swarm away as fast as he could while the unfortunate pirate was the shark’s dinner. John pulled himself onto the wreckage and flipped over onto his back, the sound of anguished screams from the pirate ringing in John’s ears.
John shut his eyes and drew in deep lungful’s of salty sea air. Cries of his men, the snapping of teeth and thrashing of tail echoed across the crimson coated sea, filling the late afternoon with unimaginable horrors.
John felt the raft sink slightly and he snapped his eyes open to see a pirate, his muscular tattooed chest bare, attempt to get on board. John recognised him as ‘Big Jake White.’
With speed John slid across the surface of the raft on his arse and brutally kicked ‘Big Jake’ in the face with one leather boot. To his credit he did hold on despite the blow knocking out two front teeth.
‘Please John, help meeee,’ ‘Big Jake’ cried through bleeding lips but John was not listening. Drawing back both feet he delivered a double booted blow that threw the big pirate back off of the raft and into the waiting jaws of a shark.
John dived back as another shark, blood lust in its black dead eye rose out of the water slamming down upon the raft, where only a moment before Jack had been. As John looked on with horror the shark slid calmly back into the choppy, bloody waters to look for anyone else that was unfortunate enough to still be in the water.
The feeding frenzy seemed to go on forever until the last men were eaten, drowned or had found a makeshift raft that could hold their weight.
John looked around and saw a few of his crew still alive, resting on the wreckage of their lost ship.
Out of the sixty-eight souls that entered the sea that day, only six remained.
‘Captain,’ a reedy voice cried.
John looked over at a young pirate with a shock of red hair and freckled cheeks. He sat on a piece of wreckage that had once been part of the quarter deck; the ship’s wheel still attached. John knew him as ‘Red.’ John saw two older men there too, Slim Jim and Little Tom. Two other sea dogs had found safety as well in the old crow’s nest, their tanned, weathered worn bodies gleaming in the late afternoon sun as they bounced upon the waves in an expanse of blue.
‘What are we to do Captain?’ asked Red.
John looked around and it seemed the sharks had left, their bellies fat with his brethren. There was a lot of debris bobbing in the waters around them.
‘Grab anything that you think maybe useful. The sharks seem to have gone but hurry as they may return.’
The pirates nodded and began to busy their selves salvaging what they could. John did the same and discovered a barrel of rum. The day was turning for the better he thought grinning.
It was the pure stuff as well not the ‘grog,’ which was watered down piss; this had a kick to it. John secured it with some rigging that was floating nearby and continued searching.
After sometime they had accumulated a meagre treasure. Red and the other two men had found a box of sea rusks and a compass and the old sea dogs had found a barrel of salted pork.
‘Looks like we’ll have a feast tonight boys,’ John shouted.
A chorus of laughter reached him across the vast space of turquoise.
‘We better try to get together then,’ said Slim Jim, who wasn’t slim at all.
After much discussion and heaving and hoeing they managed to lash the three pieces of wreckage together, to form one big raft.
Over a meal of salted pork, sea rusk and rum they discussed their next move.
‘Quite a few ships pass these ways,’ Red said.
‘Aye but they tend to be Spanish, French or English,’ said Little Tom, trying to chew the hard sea rusk with his four remaining teeth.
‘Exactly, I for one don’t want to end up at the end of a rope doing a jig,’ said Slim Jim, his mouth full with salty pork.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ John laughed before taking a healthy swig of the rum.
There was much merriment for a while, a welcome distraction from their predicament. However this couldn’t last and talk soon turned to how they were going to get out of this situation, if at all they could.
‘We could try heading east, said Peg Leg Pete, one of the old sea dogs said pointing. He held the compass in one wrinkled hand. ‘There be a lot of little islands around ere. Maybe we could reach one?’
That’s a plan,’ John said. ‘Grab what you can for oars and let’s get going.’
In the dying embers of the late afternoon sun the surviving pirates headed east.
Thanks to
for the prompt for this week’s short story, which was ‘a man lost at sea.’ If anyone else has any prompts, please send them to me and you may see your prompt in a future post. I’ll endeavour to include your name somewhere in it as well for fun.Part 2 will be posted next Friday.
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That was fun!
I noticed there was an extra space in the closing period of this sentence: “‘The Priyanka’ exploded with the impact of the powerful projectiles, her timbers shattering like firewood .” (Right here.)