Dagan came down from the masthead lookout. He'd been perched there for an hour now scanning the horizon, occasional y putting the glass to his eye for a clearer picture. The regular lookout had tried to engage Dagan in conversation for the first several minutes they shared the platform. These attempts stopped suddenly when Dagan gave the man a stern look and said, 'I'm looking for a ship, not conversation, now put your glass to work.'
Gabe had just about given up on sighting his quarry when Dagan approached him. 'I found her.' Gabe had the master, Blake, and Lieutenant Hazard meet with him in his cabin to go over Dagan's finding on the chart.
'There're some small islands here with a small inlet between them. The Turtle is about here.'
'That's Hunting Islands,' the master offered.
'There're about five little islands that make up the Huntings. The Turtle, if it's between this northern most small island and larger one, the main Hunting Island, then she's in the Warsaw Sound.'
'The Hunting Islands down to Jenkins Island,'
Blake pointed to a small island just off the entrance to
Port Royal Harbour, 'along with the sound are greatly affected by the tide. When the tide is out there's mud flats and saw grass al the way to Port Royal. There're a few channels that can be made with a shallow draft barge or ship's boat and I expect that's how they unload such vessels.'
'Just how far could a body make it overland?'
Hazard asked the master as he peered at the charts.
'At low tide?'
'Aye,' Hazard replied, 'At low tide.'
'If you didn't stick up to arse-hole and elbows in the mud you could walk from the beach at Hunting al the way to Port Royal. Course there are gators and moccasins and varmints that if they don't eat ya or ’pison ya they'll sting you to death. No, don't be thinking of no land action. It's a boat action or naught,' the master stated definitely.
'What do we know about location and depths of the channels?' Gabe asked the master.
'Next to nothing, sir. I know they exist and that's about it.'
'Well,' Gabe responded, 'We don't want to go to Port Royal, just to the inlet here.'
'My recommendation,' Blake said, 'is to wait til it's dark and send a couple boats and cut her out if need be but I'd rather just go within cannon bal range and blast her.'
'The master's got a point,' Dagan volunteered.
'But we need that powder, don't we, sir,' Hazard interjected.
This brought looks from both Dagan and the master. Seeing the looks, Gabe came to the young lieutenant's aid, 'We do need the powder so here's what we'll do.'
The boats were put over the side. Mr. Davy with the marine sergeant and a squad of his marines, Lieutenant Lavery with his party; then Gabe and Dagan with a group in his gig. Before leaving, Gabe talked with his first lieutenant.
'I know you feel it's your place to go, Everette, but with your arm the way it is that's an impossibility.
Besides I need someone here who can handle SeaWolf if something goes amiss. I'm not going to sacrifice al those men for one renegade. If I can cut Turtle out, I will. If not I'll make an attempt to blow her up. If that's not feasible, I'll send up a flare. That's your cue to come in and pick us up. Then we'll let Mr. Druett and his bunch have some target practice.'
'Aye, sir. I'll be ready with SeaWolf regardless which plans unfolds.'
Then Gabe was quite serious. 'There's a letter in my desk drawer for my brother and my mother should I fail to return. Give them both to my brother.'
'Aye, sir, but I'm sure that won't be necessary.'
Pausing before he climbed down to his gig, Gabe looked over SeaWolf. He could never ask for a better ship. She was more than he ever dreamed, a dream that came true in part due to his brother. Yes, his brother, not his half- brother, just his brother. Then as he turned, he felt dizziness overtake him and he had to grasp the bulwark to steady himself. Dagan reached out and touched him.
'Let's just stand off and blast the bugger, Gabe.
You're in no shape for what we're about.' Looking at the man who'd been his constant companion for as long as he could remember, Gabe felt a lump in his throat. 'I have to Dagan. It's what's expected…it's my duty. Besides I have you with me.' Then as Gabe made his way down the ladder to his gig, Dagan muttered, 'Duty be damned, it's you I care about.'
Just being in the open water seemed to clear Gabe's dizziness. The air had a slight chill and that seemed to help as well. Tiny little wavelets lapped at the sides of the boat as the men put their backs to the oars. It was a hard enough pull just from the distance but with the ebb tide the pull was even harder.
After thirty minutes of rowing Gabe cal ed a halt and let the men rest. 'Everything well, Mr. Davy, Lieutenant Lavery.'
'Aye,' they both responded from their respective boats.
'We'll let the men rest for five minutes, and then we'll start again.'
'Aye sir.'
The rowing had resumed and after ten minutes a seaman made his way back to where Gabe was sitting next to Dagan at the tiller. Men groaned and cursed as a few toes was bruised at the man's awkward movements.
'Sorry sir but I didn't want to speak too loud but they's a light just off the starboard bow, looks like someone's got ’holt ’o a lanthorn and walking down the side of a ship.'
Dagan put the tiller over and the light was visible and appeared to be moving along the deck of a ship.
Davy and Lavery's boats had eased up along side of Gabe's.
'Unless I'm mistaken gentlemen, yonder lays our missing ’cow'.'
This brought a smile from Lavery.
'Let's muffle our oars, then Dagan and I will come up on her starboard quarter astern. Mr. Davy, put your boat under her stern but where you'll see my signal. Mr. Lavery, I want you to swing wide and if there's no guard boat or sentry come up along her bow.
Make sure nobody has a loaded musket or pistol.
Remember this ship is loaded to the gills with powder and munitions. Any questions? Now let's take our stations and pay attention to my signals.'
As the crews put their backs into it, the distant ship became more visible. It was undoubtedly the Turtle, her sails were furled and a glow seemed to move about on the weather deck, the lookout with the lanthorn. The larboard side was not visible from this position but Gabe could make out a list to the larboard.
'She's aground…stuck in the bloody mud by damn,' he whispered to Dagan.
'Aye, probably beached her on the low tide to unload her,' Dagan answered. 'I'll bet they got boats in the water working back and forth from the shore now.'
'I agree,' Gabe turned to the boat crew, 'Let's be about it men.'
The boats eased their way up to the unsuspecting ship. Voices could be heard on deck. Once, one of the men on board the Turtle spit over the side just missing the gig. Gabe was now able to pick out individual faces in the lanthorn light. The same light that helped the men see on the deck also took away their night vision and made it easier for the men in the boats to go unseen. A seaman reached up and grasped hold to Turtle.
'Boats as secure as I can make it sir without tying off to ’sumthin.'
The hull was moist and smell ed of salt and tar mixed with the distinct odor of mud. As Gabe climbed silently up the side of the ship more men were in evidence on Turtle's deck. Barrels of gunpowder fill ed the deck where they'd been brought up from the hole.
A voice with a distinct Irish brogue said, 'Keep that lanthorn away from the barrels you fool. That's gunpowder.'
Patrick, the bastard, is on board Gabe thought, recognizing the voice.
'When's the boats coming back?' one of the men asked.
'We're never gonna get this stuff unloaded by daybreak.'
Dagan was standing in the boat as Gabe eased his way back down into the gig.
