“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes unmoving from the course ahead.
“We should have a few of these new folks. We are bound for a fight at some point and I think you’ve got a good enough handle, you can help me show a few of these fine folks what I’ve taught you.” Chibs answered.
Lilith’s eyes moved aloft, she adjusted the wheel slightly and a long pause went by. Then she pointed over to Omibwe, his eyes widening in alarm.
“Omibwe learns to wield a sword Chib. He has the sand to fight with one leg and he hasn’t even been taught yet. If you’ll teach him, I’ll help,” she answered, a beautiful smile broadening across her face.
“That’s a deal little lady,” said Chibs with a wide grin as he fiddled with his pipe. “But you’ll have to promise not to scare the life out of our new doctor just yet. We could be needing him.”
“Needing me? I was under the impression I would be transported to my original destination Sir!” the Doctor interjected looking quite disheveled.
“Now what made you think that Sir?” Chibs asked flatly, his eye never shifting from the task of filling his pipe.
“You did. You told me I would be let off in Martinique at the earliest possible convenience.”
“Ah. You seem to misunderstand doctor. I said as soon as we make port there. Well, I guess I did fib a bit, mostly in jest doctor. We have no intentions of sailing to Martinique, by all means, if we pass close and you desire to disembark then you are free to go. As a matter of fact, you’re free to go now if you’d like. Au Revoir, I think it goes, enjoy your swim,” said Chibs as he struggled to contain a belly laugh.
“I see. Well in that case, I could stay on until you pass near any French port.”
“That you could doctor and we’re only too glad to have you. It’s handy to have a decent sawbones around when shot starts whizzing through the air and such.”, Chibs continued, “The Captain has plans to skirt the cove again and wave the ‘Gazelle’ in those slave smuggler’s faces. Likely they’ll pile out right into our teeth. We’ll keep you under good employ then Sir.”
“I see,” the Doctor’s reply came feebly.
22 Sept 1808
Kingston Harbor, Jamaica Colony
“Pull! Heave men put your backs into it! Pull for your lives!” William cried out, urging the men rowing each of the longboats. They were in a race with death itself, rowing against their own fates. The longboats pulled away from the pier under plumes of seawater spraying from the near misses of the cannon fire from the fort battery. Men screamed, screams of fear floated above the calm waters of the harbor interspersed with the pleading cried of men encouraging one another. William struck a different tone than the others, he felt no fear that morning. With the cannon shot flying through the air, sizzling and whistling far too close for comfort, amongst the thick clouds of smoke from gunpowder and flame, William felt no fear. Through the chaos of the continuing barrage, through the losses of the initial engagement earlier that morning and the ensuing whirlwind, William felt a sharp and burning anger combined with a distinct sense of purpose and direction. When the Admiral had fallen, he became the senior officer present and immediately the sailors and marines and had looked to him for direction. William had not hesitated; his decisions came to him with clarity and resolution he had not experienced before. The men surrounding him were relying on him to make the right choices, his actions and chosen course would determine all of their fates.
The Hunter had taken the first hit from the battery. As they rowed towards the fleet in a fury several more direct hits had sent wood fragments and men flying from her deck. William looked on, helpless to stop the barrage as round after round impacted into the Hunter’s deck and along her starboard rail. As the longboats neared, he could see the Hunter’s gun ports opening and her cannon muzzles emerging to return fire. Every man looking on felt a spark of hope with each emerging cannon, knowing that return fire was the truest hope they held to slowing the onslaught. “Come on gents, run the elevation up and let fly! Come on, come on, what’s taking so long?” William muttered to himself. His words were cut short by another thundering report over the harbor and a shower of shattered wood from the side of the Hunter. The impact crunched home sending a bone cringing wave through every man in the fleet, Will hunched down low in the longboat as the men rowing paused momentarily to see the deadly result. A waft of smoke began to billow from the Hunter, first from the hole of the impact and then in great plumes and clouds from gun ports and hatches. Anywhere smoke from below decks could escape became a thick cloud of churning acrid black smoke rushing forth. Every sailor looking on knew, these were her final moments. Several men aboard the Hunter leapt overboard, fleeing the flames that were now engulfing her in a desperate attempt to survive. An explosion followed, sending massive wooden chunks whizzing through the air, lifting the deck of the Hunter and seemingly splitting the vessel in half. Her masts toppled and stay lines snapped everywhere, the shock wave that permeated the sailors in the longboats could be felt down into their bones. In a matter of minutes, the only trace the Hunter had been afloat in its position moments ago was burning lamp oil on the surface and a scattered mess of flotsam in the water she had just occupied.
The barrage
