Mermaid's Gold Ch. 02: Captain Flint

Sugar plantation owners thought of slave-stock such as me as simply human livestock and, just like inspecting mules or horses, before buying, the owners will want to get a good look at me. I'd be thoroughly inspected. They'll look at my arms, my legs, my feet, my teeth, and they'd even bend me over to inspect my most intimate of regions.

Nothing will be overlooked. It'll be completely humiliating. After being sold to some plantation, I'll be led away in chains, and then spend the next five years slaving in the sugar cane fields, eating nasty gruel, living in squalor, and experiencing every imaginable poverty so that the plantation owners could enjoy a life of inconceivable wealth and luxury.

If I'm lucky, my new masters give me some clothes, at least a shirt and pants; if not, after a few months, my sweaty white ass will be almost as brown as the Africans. With good clothes being almost as expensive as common slaves, I might not be so lucky. Who knows, in the sweltering heat, maybe I'll be more comfortable working nude for the next five years. After all, the humiliation of being displayed and worked naked will probably wear off in just a few weeks. In time, I'll forget what it was like to be dressed.

I'd been lucky when I got orphaned, the orphanage to which I was assigned took the education of their girls seriously and each girl was taught a trade so that she could support their husband and raise a family. The training encompassed all manner of professions including soldiers, sailors, carpenters, farmers, business, and smith.

With my petite frame and rather shy demeanor, I was taught to be a scribe and bookkeeper. However, the fact that I could read, write, perform arithmetic, and speak several languages will be of no value to my masters. The sugar plantations owners needed manual labor, not a scribe. For all practical purposes, in Nassau, I'll just be livestock.

Minutes after Hannah and I were secured in the hold, I could feel the pirate ship cast off and get underway. Shortly thereafter, there was an officer's meeting in the Captain's cabin directly above me and I strained to hear.

"Ladies, the ship's logbook said dey passed a Spanish Galleon, the Nuestra Señora de Atocha, only hours ago," Flint said. "I know of dis ship girls. It be a treasure galleon and a big one. It'll be full of gold and silver, everythin' ye ever dreamt of and more."

At the mention of a Spanish Galleon, I could hear an excited murmur run though the pirates. Treasure galleons carried gold and silver from the new world back to Spain. Usually the amount in their hold was enough to make every pirate on the ship a very wealthy woman. But they were heavily crewed and heavily gunned, almost impossible to take.

"What's ya plan Capt'n?" one of the pirates said. The room above fell silent as the pirate officers eagerly awaited being briefed on Flint's strategy.

"Galleons from Panama usually put in for the night at Marquesas Key. We can take er then."

"But how?" Silver said. "She'll outwoman us by over three ta one and outgun us."

"I'd say closer to five ta one," Flint said.

I could hear a nervous murmur.

"It be suicide," an unknown voice said.

"Nay," Flint laughed, "but it twill require a little planning. With that, Flint started eagerly describing her strategy. Unfortunately, a drunken argument on deck kept me from hearing much of the next ten minutes. All I could make out was that the pirates seemed excited, even a little tipsy, over the plan and they began cheering.

"We'll be richer than kings," an unknown pirate gushed.

"We won't just have whores and rum," another pirate said, "we'll all own brothels and distilleries."

The pirates cheered.

"That might even work," a voice that sounded like Billie said. Nevertheless, she sounded skeptical. "But what fool would ever volunteer to be the swimmer."

"I'll do it Capt'n," Silver said. "I can swim."

"Nay matie, I fear it be far too risky," Flint said. "and I can't afford ta lose ye. Besides, if'n ye be caught, they'll torture da bejesus out of ye. Ye know how da Spaniards hate us pirates. It'd be right frightful what they'd do ta ye. Ye'd be force ta tell um everythin' and ye know too much. We be need'n someone who taint no value to us at'll and couldn't give um anythin' if'n she got herself caught, nary a name, a port of call, a conquest, our armament, our heading, or even a proper description of our ship."

"How about that little slave wench we got in the hold?" another voice said. She's no sailor and knows nothin' about us. Them Spanairds could string her up and skin her alive if'n they took a notion but still wouldn't get nothin' out of her."

I couldn't make out much else of the conversation but half an hour later, the captain herself came down into the hold carrying me food and water.

"Eat hearty lassie." Flint said as she unlocked my hands and handed me a bowl of ship's stew, a hardtack biscuit, and a mug of water. She smiled. "Tomorrow, I've got a job for ye."

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To be continued.