Men on the decks of both ships were now yelling over to each other with ribald wit and reminders of past promises of debts or deeds. The only people on the deck of the St. James not in a positive spirit were the Newtons. They stood together by the port twelve-pounder with blank expressions as they watched the proceedings. To Wake’s mind they appeared more like prisoners of war watching their captors than refugees beholding their liberators.
Soon the fenders were over and the distance between the ships was diminished enough to send lines across. The sails on the schooner were doused as she coasted forward and was secured against her big sister.
“Secured alongside, Captain. Orders, sir?”
“First, get our wounded men back aboard, then, receive the Gem’s mail and items bound for Key West, Faber. Be quick about it. I want to be under way to ride this flood over to Useppa Island as soon as we can. I will be aboard the Gem with Captain Baxter.”
Baxter met him at the quarterdeck when he crossed over.
“Peter. Good to see you. From the shouts of your men I gather you had a stimulating time north of here. You must tell me what you have been about. I hope that at least one of us has been successful in the war effort.”
“Stimulating is an interesting word, John. I would say more than stimulating. But yes, we have been successful, I think. First, how are my men who were wounded?”
Baxter did not answer but led Wake down into his cabin where they could talk. Baxter’s cabin was larger than his but still cramped. In the light of a brass oil lamp Baxter cleared away some space for them and called for his steward and drinks. Wake repeated his question when they were each seated with a glass of lemonade in hand.
“Let me tell you, Reeder, our surgeon, did all he could. We got back here two days after you left, and we took all three of them aboard for care. The Useppa Islanders did their best but had not enough medicines for wounds like those. One of your men did not make it, Peter. Seaman Scarbond died just after we returned here. Reeder was surprised he lasted that long with that wound and the infection that was raging. We buried him at sea offshore.”
“And the others?”
“Coxswain White is coming along well. Reeder says that the wound has kept clean and shows no suppuration. He evidently will require several more weeks of convalescence. The hospital at Key West can accomplish that better than we here.
“Able Seaman Jackson’s leg is not doing so well. There has been inflammation from an infection and some atrophy as well. Reeder has done the things he could here, but doubts if Jackson will be able to serve in the navy any longer. I understand he is a regular?”
“Yes, he has ten years of service and was considered for a bosun’s mate promotion. He’s a good man and seaman. The navy is his life.”
“I am sorry, my friend, but I fear that Jackson will be invalided out of the navy with that wound.”
Wake understood the burdens and consequences of command by this point in the war. He accepted the fate of his men with a deep breath and expression of gratitude for the care they had received from the Gem’s captain and surgeon. He asked for the immediate transfer of the wounded to his schooner and begged the pardon of his senior for a prompt departure for Useppa Island. He wanted to deposit John Newton and his family there as soon as possible and return to Key West.
Wake and Baxter said good-bye ten minutes later, and the St. James caught the last of the flood tide to sail through the small islands in the bay around to Useppa. Anchoring off the island, a wave of memories, both enjoyable and horrible, from previous visits came over Wake as he looked at the tiny settlement of huts. It had been a while since Wake had set foot on Useppa’s hills, originally the temple mounds of the Indians of the powerful Calusa Empire. The island held a strange air about it, almost mystical, even to a pragmatic man like Wake. He didn’t believe in the superstitions of sailors, but there was something in the very smell of this island that gave him pause.
He didn’t want to take too much time, but there were three important issues he needed to discuss with Hervey Newton before his sailing for Key West. Wake went ashore in his dinghy as the Newton clan and their meager belongings were rowed in the larger boat.
Hervey Newton greeted him at the beach.
“Captain Wake! An unexpected pleasure, sir. Please come and rest a moment and let me hear of your recent action against the enemies of our nation. I heard some of the boys just say you had been in a fight at Deadman’s Bay.”
“Mr. Newton, thank you, sir. Let me pass along the news directly, for I must be on my way before the day ends, sir.”
“As you will and must, sir. Pray sit and tell me your news.”
They sat under a seagrape tree on the beach, the heat and humidity of the summer afternoon making the slight shade ineffective in providing any comfort.
“Mr. Newton, yes, we had a fight at Deadman’s Bay. Captured several vessels and burned the depot there. We also took aboard refugees for Egmont Key and this island. Your nephew John and his family are among them. They’re being brought ashore as we speak.”
Newton looked around at the boat grounding on the
