Michael Aye - Barracuda

"They have to know," Anthony said his arm making a sweeping motion, "that to destroy a King's ship is to Barracuda

doom their fate. I will not rest until the rogue is brought to bear."

Bart was standing inside the pantry with Silas.

Anthony's words were easily overheard. "I's 'spect that cap'n of the Barracuda is in a fix."

"Aye," Silas answered, "His days be numbered alright. When his lordship gets 'is temper up somebody generally pays."

"Me thoughts as well," Bart answered. "Don Louis is a dead man and 'e jus' don't know it yet."

"Aye," Silas agreed, "not yet 'e don't, but soon." No sooner had the ships dropped anchor than Governor Tonyn's secretary came aboard with new orders for Lord Anthony. After reading his orders Anthony had Sir Raymond and Gabe repair on board. When all had settled on board and Silas had served a glass of refreshment for the group Anthony got down to business.

"The rebels are sending another invasion force into Florida. We have this on good word. The force is said to contain more than one thousand troops. Governor Tonyn is taking this as a very serious threat. He has already sent a force under Colonel Provost to repel the attack. However, we are to land a group of scouts under Colonel Browne at Cowford just north of here. Gabe, as SeaWolf has the shallowest draught you will put into the mouth of the Saint Johns River here," Anthony said pointing at a place on the chart which was spread across the dining table. "Once at this place you will disembark Colonel Browne and his scouts and return here and maintain patrol along with Neptune."

"May I ask a question my lord?" Sir Raymond asked.

Glancing up Lord Anthony nodded his consent.

"If it's only a handful of scouts we're landing why are you sending both SeaWolf and Neptune?"

"Good question. There's a possibility some of the invasion force may come by sea… a two-pronged attack if you will. Therefore you will act as defender should difficulties arise."

"Aye my lord, we will be ready."

Gabe had barely made it back to SeaWolf and informed his first lieutenant and master of their orders when the boat carrying the scouts was sighted.

"Tis but a wee outing," Gunnells said as he quickly reviewed the charts prior to setting sail. The scouts were as motley a mixture as Gabe had ever seen. The group was made up of four blacks, seventeen whites, and the rest were Indians. They were dressed in a mixture of buckskin, homespun Lindsey Woolsey and breechcloths.

Their outward appearance gave little hint to the effectiveness of the group.

Colonel Browne gave an air of competence and energy. In his late thirties or early forties he had made a reputation of being very skilled in the art of guerrilla warfare. This skill had not gone unnoticed by Governor Tonyn who had placed Browne in command of the East Florida Rangers. Browne was a man that was easy to like. He grew his hair long to cover the baldness where the Colonials had scalped him. Not only was he a soldier of merit Gabe decided but he was also a man set on retribution towards those who were responsible for his disfigurement.

Gabe glanced at the darkening sky as the anchorage became overcast. A zephyr carried the fresh smell of rain.

"Time for our afternoon shower," Dagan volunteered. "It'll not last."So you've become accustomed to the afternoon showers," Colonel Browne said, more a statement than a question.

"Do you wish for your men to go below," Gabe asked.

"No, captain, they're used to the elements. I'll not spoil them."

"As you wish," Gabe replied. He then called, "Mr.

Jackson."

"Aye, captain."

"Prepare to get underway."

"Aye, sir." Jackson then ordered. "Man the capstan."

The sound of a fiddle on the fo'c'sle rang out. Lum had proved very talented musically as well as in other ways. Since arriving in Saint Augustine he had traded a handmade flute for a fiddle. He quickly learned to play it and now sawed a sassy tune.

"Jump to it you idle bugger," Graf shouted at the men. "Stir your stumps you whoresons. Neptune 's anchor already has hove short. Damme but a sloven crew ye be."

"Anchors hove short," Lavery called from forward, his voice loud on a blustery wind as raindrops spattered on the decking stinging ones face as it pelted down.

"Get the ship underway, Jem," Gabe said using Jackson 's first name. Pleased, Jackson turned to do as he was bid.

"Anchor's aweigh," Lavery shouted.

"Make sail," Jackson ordered. "Aloft sail loosners."

"Look lively now," Graf roared. Snap, the sound of Graf's starter against the main mast. "Foley the next un will be across your arse you laggard. Lay out and loosen, that's it me lads, stand by. Let fall, let fall, I say. Man the topsail sheets and halyard. Tend the braces."

As the evolution for getting underway was being completed SeaWolf was like a racehorse straining at the bit. Then as the sails were sheeted home she was off with a sudden surge that rocked the deck as they became underway. The scouts had not expected the sudden slanting of the deck and several found themselves bruised and aching after tumbling across the deck. This brought laughter from one of the seamen and caused the scouts to glare menacingly at the man.

"I say, Mr. Jackson," Gabe said. "See that yonder man is detailed to cleaning the heads for the next fortnight."

"Aye, sir, we'll see how much humour he finds in that."

Once clear of the anchorage the sea became more violent. Spray flew over the dipping bow and dashed scouts and seamen alike. A look of concern filled the scouts and so it was no surprise to Gabe when Colonel Browne approached him.

"It may be best, captain, if I accede to your previous offer for my men to go below. It'll be difficult for them to perform our mission if they've been knocked about so."

"I think your being wise, colonel," Gabe replied. "I find it taxing to ride horses so do not be embarrassed by being out of your element."

"Mr. Graf."

"Aye, cap'n."

"See to it that our guests are made comfortable below."

"Aye, cap'n, comfortable they'll be."

"Bye the mark five."

It had been a quick trip from Saint Augustine north to the entrance of the Saint Johns River. Knight in Barracuda

Neptune sailed back and forth at the entrance as SeaWolf made its way up the river.

"Put our best leadsman in the chains," Gabe had ordered.

"Already done, sir," Jackson replied.

"Thank God we've such a shallow draught," a nervous Gunnells volunteered.

"A quarter less five."

"Hell's fire," Gunnells again, "Maybe we should anchor and send the longboats the rest of the way." The sails flapped loosely as the wind dropped.

"By the mark four."

"Sir," Gunnells cried the anxiety apparent in his voice, "are we to loose our keel?"

"Bring her up another point," Gabe ordered, ignoring the master's pleas.

"We're shoaling fast," Jackson said.

"Nay," Dagan spoke out, "it'll be deeper ahead."

"I wish I had your confidence," Gunnells said, still very anxious.

"Deep six."

There was a sigh of relief from Gunnells and a look of "I told you" from Dagan.

"Deep eight," the leadsman called again.

The river widened at this point. On both sides of the river oak trees and scrubs were so thick it was hard to imagine a man being able to make his way through the dense vegetation. After rounding another bend, Dagan sided up to Gabe.

"I get the feeling we should heave to now." Gabe started to argue but something in Dagan's demeanor made him forget his objections.

"Very well. Prepare to come about and anchor, Mr.

Jackson."

"Aye sir."

"Mr. Graf."

"Aye, cap'n."

"Have the cutter and a longboat lowered."

"Mr. Lavery."

"Aye, sir."

"As soon as convenient convey our passengers ashore. Select a master's mate to be in charge of the longboat and return when your task is complete."