No Sex
They weren't supposed to become the police for the island. Their job had been to clear it, and make way for another power to take over. That other power decided to renig on their contract. As a result of that, now that power is going to pay with loss of people, and more importantly, ships.
Dylan was making a normal patrol around the north end of the Island when his watch spotted them. “Three sets of sails coming in from the North captain.”
“Set us toward the lagoon helmsman.” Dylan ordered.
It had been nearly two months since they came back to the island and taken the French frigate that they renamed the Terry Lynn.
The Kaitlyn Marie was once again sea worthy, with a few upgrades. The first being the new and upgraded cannons similar to the Taylor Leigh, except they threw a heavier shot, and were even more deadly. A second upgrade, while prepping the main mast, they bored the length of it, reinforcing it with left over iron from the cannon castings. The hardest part was setting the ballast properly so that she wouldn't keel over in a stiff wind. She would me much more susceptible to tipping with that added weight above her deck. Coating the inner hull with the rubber gave a little more security in the crew's eyes, less risk of water leaks.
The most improved ship of the fleet was the Tammy Lynn. She went through a lot of the same upgrades that the Taylor Leigh did, new cannons, as well as the rubber lining inside her hull. She also got 4 new layers of skin on the outside of her hull, each laid perpendicular to the last, glued on with a mixture of the rubber, and other saps and tars to make the thin strips as strong as planks two feet thick, when they were merely a quarter of that total. The biggest changes was inside her, her gun deck, and her berthing switched, bringing her center of gravity closer to the water, harder to flounder, it also brings the cannons a little closer to the powder magazine which is down in the hold. With that move, she was able to carry more sails as well, which translates to more speed, she could almost match the Kaitlyn Marie for top speed, both still lagged far behind the flag ship, which was ironically, their smallest, the Taylor Leigh.
Seeing the Taylor Leigh round the jetty, and stopping quickly, the crews of the other ships knew something was going on. “Three large clouds heading this way.” Dylan called out.
Chris told the captains of the two ships in the lagoon to make ready and not to let them make land. “It don't matter if you capture them, for now, no one gets close enough to land. Ideally, we'll capture their stores and any gold, but, the security is first. Relay that to Dylan, and Godspeed.”
“Aye sir.” they replied.
They made their way to their respective ships. Michael to the Terry Lynn, and Riley to the Kaitlyn Marie. Pulling out to the west, to make way toward the oncoming ships while having favorable winds. They went out about 30 miles making a long wide arc coming up behind the ships.
“French standards flying sir.” the watch called down.
“No prisoners, no one survives, if she sinks, it's ok. Make ready the starboard cannons with exploding ammunition, load port side with fire balls, move the port guns starboard, adjusting ballast.” Michael tells his crew. On the other two ships, almost the exact same order was given, none of the French would survive this, or the three smaller ships would go down trying.
“French ship, surrender and prepare to be boarded.” Dylan called to them.
The captain of the French line ship, laughed at the smaller ship's order and called to have the port cannons of his 50 gun ship made ready and ran out.
Dylan shook his head, seeing the 20 ports opened and cannons appearing in them. “Idiots should have listened. First battery, aim at her waterline, after cycled, second battery aim higher and burn her down.” Nine of her 10 exploding rounds found their mark, splintering the hold of the larger ship, withing seconds, she started listing to port, the yells of the crew to try to seal the holes being heard. Less than a minute later, the second volley from the Taylor Leigh struck, some hitting on her deck, some hitting her side, both quickly starting to consume the ship in flames. “Reload, same as before and fire when ready.” Dylan ordered. The explosive rounds had been already reloaded and being ran up to their ports as the order was given.
The same order was given to the second ship by Michael from the Terry Lynn. Seeing her 15 guns already at the door, and the total carnage that had just happened to the bigger ship by the Taylor Leigh, the captain quickly determined that they wouldn't try to duel these unknown and obviously deceptive smaller ships. They quickly struck their sails coming to a stop, and all hands were brought up on deck. The frigate lessened her sails and came up around the bow of the ship, still ready for a fight if needed. Lines went across, and quickly, the two ships were tied together stem toward stern. The gangplank raised, and the full crew of the Terry Lynn descended on the larger ship, all armed with their pistols as well as cutlasses. Within minutes, the deck of the French ship was awash in her crew's blood as they took no prisoners and ran all of them through with blades and shot from the pistols.
On board the Kaitlyn Marie, it was all fairly calm, as they too called out for the surrender of the larger frigate. Her captain, Riley, had made the same preparations that the other two ships had made, loading her cannons the same. As they passed the massacre on the second ship, the French captain realized that they wouldn't see another day if they surrendered, so decided to try to fight back. Her cannons already loaded and ran out, as soon as the words came from Riley, she opened fire with her 40 pound cannons. The look of horror as the large shot just bounced right off the side, barely marking the paint let alone splintering the hull. In response, Riley moved in, and opened fire on her, all shots aimed well above the waterline, easily destroying the hull, and the second round sending her crew screaming as they were quickly being cooked inside of their own ship. Knowing there was no way to put out the fire with sea water, Riley and the crew sailed along side as men were jumping overboard to escape the inferno, and she was soon burned to her keel, any survivors shot on sight.
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Back on the island:
“Be ready for some damage, it's hard to say what they ran into out there, he said 'big clouds' so I'm guessing at least Line ships, or Battleships.” Chris mentioned.
“They are fine, not many can beat them up with everything we've done on them.” Taylor tells him, as she holds his hand.
“I know, but that don't mean that I don't worry. Now I know how a parent feels.” he muttered.
“Follow me, I want to show you something before they get back.” she whispered.
They walked about half a mile inland and north, to a modest rise. “This is the highest point on the island, from up here, you can see for miles out to sea. Do you have your spyglass?” she asks.
“Of course.” as he hands it to her.
“Look out that direction, see that smoke? Can you see beyond where it's at?”
“I can see the smoke, from two ships, and one that looks like it's tied to another.” he tells her.
“Want to guess who's burning?” she smiles as she asks.
“My guess, we just found the kids.” he chuckled.
“Up here, if you have someone keeping a look out, you can see all the way around the island. Look off to the West, you see the cliffs?”
“Let me guess, that's the Mexican coast.” he replies.
“Exactly, from up here, if you have a good watch, with a good glass, you can see almost anyone coming up on us.” she tells him flatly.
“What if we build a small hut with a telescope? How much more could we see from a stable location?” he asks.
“Even farther, all we would have to do too would be to build and arm some cannons around the island to keep beaches clear. That way, all four of the ships don't have to stay in port, and we don't have to worry as much.” she tells him. “You can also get the ships back out there to do what they do best, farther away, like they prefer, I know those men are going crazy being in port or just patrolling around here.” she tells him.
“You do realize that I'm not going to be going when they go, right?” he whispers to her.
“Why not? You're a sailor, and that's your life.” she questions him.
“No, that isn't my life anymore, you are, and I won't put you at risk by doing what we do out there.” he replies. “Here with you is where I belong, besides, someone around here needs to be able to keep those sailors in line. Besides, I know I'd like to have one or two little ones of our own running around on here.”
“What? You want kids?” she asked surprised.
“I'm hoping for at least a boy and a girl.” he grinned.
They walk back down to the lagoon, looking around at how much it's changed. Instead of just thatch huts, there are some actual wood framed buildings with siding. Two nice piers to moor the ships at to off load the bounty as well as equipment. An actual Blacksmith shop where the cannons were melted down, to make the new guns as well as a lot of other useful products. Clear paths back into the jungle leading to other homes as well as their supply of fresh water at the waterfall. It actually looked like a normal town, until you notice that no one pays for anything, it's all shared. The work is done by islanders and sailors alike, side by side, only worried about the survival of the life's blood, the three warships and the merchant, without them, all that is there is what nature provided.
Walking over to the Blacksmith shop, Chris asks about making some beach cannons, ones around 12 feet long and would throw a 40 pound ball about half a mile. Going by that measurement, they would need around 50 of them to surround the island, placed at about ¼ mile intervals to provide overlap.
“That number, and that size, each gun would take the iron of two normal long guns, or four normal cannons.” was the blacksmith's reply.
“How many do we have left from the Tammy Bree?” Chris asked.
“We're down to four of them left, after everything we did.”
“How long would it take to make the molds for them?” Chris wondered.
“I can have half a dozen molds made by next week, with help, the lack of iron will be what holds us back.”
“Well, If what I saw a little bit ago, was right, we very well may have the iron part covered.” Chris told him.
As they were talking, the Taylor Leigh came toward the lagoon, mooring herself to the entrance, on the south, securing her sails, and setting anchor. Soon after, the crew started lowering the small boat, with Dylan on it with a small portion of the crew rowing toward the pier.
“Damage report?” Chris asked, remembering Dylan's patrol north of Cuba a few months back.
“40 rounds fired, 20 exploding, 20 fire, from us, they didn't take so much as a shot.” Dylan smugly replied. “She keeled over within a few minutes, then burned as she was going under, all hands lost or shot in the water.”
“Really? So we just need to cast you a few rounds and that is it?”
“Yes sir. She was quick and simple, she was in about 900 feet of water, so nothing would be recoverable, sadly.”
“No damage to the ship, and crew came home safe. How can you even say 'sadly'?” Chris questioned.
“She was a 50 gun, I know we could have used the stores and iron.” Dylan shrugged.
“Stores and iron can be either captured or purchased. The crew is a lot harder to replace. A good captain will always worry about his people before a bounty.” Chris crossly explained.
“Yes sir. I just wish we could have taken her afloat.”
“I do too, but, knowing how they can be, sometimes you are happy that you made it out intact and worry about that later. Have your crew all come ashore leaving the watches on board.” Chris tells him. “My loving wife showed me something that will be rather useful, but, there's work to be done to get it all ready.”
“Aye sir. Boatswain, go and let the officer of the deck know that all but the watches stand relieved and can come ashore.” Dylan tells the man still in the boat.
About two hours later, the Kaitlyn Marie and Tammy Lynn make their way into the lagoon, escorting the new frigate, a real beauty, it will be a shame to have to strip her down. The iron on her gun deck being the most important supply. The food and other stores welcome, but, the iron needed.
Mooring the frigate on the south pier, using the tide to help secure her, the other ships secure and the respective captains make their way to shore. The small boat from the Kaitlyn Marie pulling a large mess of scrap wood behind it, the salvage from the two lost and burned ships.
“I take it since neither went to a pier that no damage to speak of?” Chris questioned them.
“No sir, no ammo used on the Terry Lynn, I guess they saw the mess the Taylor Leigh caused and thought they could save the crew by surrendering. They were mistaken.” Michael solemnly reported.
“One round from each gun on the Kaitlyn Marie, one of each. She went down with all hands and survivors eliminated.” Riley informed Chris. “The wood pulled ashore was what was salvaged between the two sunken ships, we also patrolled for survivors after.”
As the crews set about removing the stores from the captured ship, they saw that she also had a few old cannons in the hold, long since discarded, and showing the wear from repeated firing. Either this ship had seen a lot of action, or they were salvaged from others. Checking logs, it appeared that she had been a smuggler before being captured and refitted by the French.
“Take only what we don't have to use immediately.” Chris told the crews. “She may have a fair bit of value to us.”
Aye sir. Only take the stores and what isn't vital.” the longshoreman told them.
What they took out would be enough cloth, food, and barrels of powder to re-stock the other 3 warships for a month long sail. They also were able to dig out, 10 cannons from her hold, making them have to replace the ballast. She was taken whole, and unharmed, so they would do the changes to her to use as a longer range patrol, going as far as Brazil and then to the north, on the outer edge of the Caribbean.
“Dylan, until we have enough iron to cast the beach cannons, I'll be taking back the Taylor Leigh, and using her for partol around the island, you'll be taking the new frigate, out to capture as much as possible, no need for more ships, gold, silver, and iron as well as the normal stores.” Chris explains. “I want to be here, fairly close until it's covered here.”
“Aye sir, what shall we name her?” Dylan asked.
“I think we'll call her the same as the one we tore apart. The Tammy Bree.” Chris suggested.
“Yes sir, we'll get her painted up and ready to go. I assume she'll be running what she already has as far as hull and guns.” Dylan confirmed.
“Yes, I want her underway as soon as possible, so you'll need some of the older crew, ones more experienced with her style guns.” Chris told him.
“No problem sir, most of the crews are still adjusting to the newer guns so they'll be more comfortable doing it the old way. We'll all be ready to set sail at first light.” Dylan said.
Later that night, in their house, Chris and Taylor were settling down and trying to get a grasp on the whole situation. Building a watch tower, organizing the now four ships, keeping everyone busy and happy. It was getting to be too much for Chris and he was stressing.
“We need to talk.” Taylor mentions. “This isn't healthy for you.”
“I know, but, who else will do it all?” he asks.
“There are a number of people almost as capable.” she tells him.
“You have three ships captains, a number of experienced crew, and don't forget the ones that were on the island before, older, and fairly wise to the ways of the world.” she suggests.
“I don't want to burden anyone else with the mess that I helped create.” he says.
“It's not a burden, most of them want to help, and offer advice, who knows, you may learn a few things too.”
“If it wasn't for me, none of this would be happening.” he says.
“You're right, if it wasn't you, it would have been another captain, and ship that would have loaded us all up, and we wouldn't be here now. The French would be here, and tearing up the island. Don't you see? It would be a lot worse if it hadn't been you that did it.” she firmly tells him.
“You're right. I keep forgetting that they were going to do it regardless.” he shrugs.
“For now, until we can defend ourselves, we're kind of stuck, after that, we'll take a crew and do what you do best, plunder the hell out of anyone that comes within miles of you and the Kaitlyn Marie” she tells him, grinning.
“Oh? And what makes you think you're going with me?” he asks.
“You need me as much as I need you. That's why, and we'd both be so worried about the other nothing would go right.” she tells him. “Besides, I got kind of used to the rocking of the ship, and not knowing who we'd meet up with.”
Getting themselves ready for bed, he kisses her lightly, pulling her close, needing her close to him. They strip down, each admiring the other's nakedness in the soft moonlight. Their desire for each other slowly building. As they laid down, pulling each other close, he softly kisses her building her passion, as his grew. After hours of rolling in the bed, making slow love to each other, they relaxed and held the other close finally spent, and much less stressed. They drifted off to sleep in their love's arms., wondering what the dawn would bring them.
The building of the watch tower went quickly. It was, after all, four posts, and a roof, just enough to guard from the afternoon heat, and any rain that may come down. They would have someone up there almost constantly to keep a look out and alert the small settlement with a runner. True to his word, Dylan and the other ships set out, determined to get what they needed, as well as to have some what they called fun, and had missed sorely in the last few weeks and months, plundering. It was all coming together, it just took so much planning.
As the three ships set off to the west, Chris wondered if he'd see everyone back safe, he also wondered what the coming weeks would bring for the small island they now all called home.
