I tried to sleep, but between the cotton feeling in my mouth, the rumble in my stomach, and the thoughts racing through my mind, I failed. Although we had a good chance of escaping detection and reaching the bay below the mouth of the river, we were far from safe. The diversion would have been discovered by now and the longboats were probably on their way back to the frigate. I had no doubt the captain of the Navy ship would send more boats, but he would wait until morning, giving us a decent head start.
Rhames came and sat by me, “Don’t take a watch, not something the captain would do. Better to stay here and keep an eye on these worthless bastards.”
I nodded. “We need to leave around midnight. That’ll give us six hours to get past the mouth of the river. I’m guessing it’s close to twenty miles. You think the men have it in them?”
“They’ve got the treasure—they’ll die for it.”
He was right and that brought up my next conundrum. We were running heavy; the chests were loaded and cumbersome. The smart thing to do would be to bury them here on the beach and travel light to escape. We could double back when we knew our pursuers had given up and then split the bounty. But I could already see the looks cast back and forth at the chests and knew the greed of the men. There was no chance any of them would let the treasure out of their sight. Trust among pirates was rare if it even existed at all.
Time passed slowly. I changed the watch one more time and tried to rest. As the sky darkened, I started to second guess my decision. Confident that the diversion had been discovered by now, maybe doubling back and going toward the Peace River was the safer route. Would the Navy captain be shrewd enough to think us patient enough to wait them out and follow our own diversion? Pirates, by nature, were impatient, and I tried to place myself in his place, asking myself what I would do. My answer surprised me, and I knew the Peace River was the wrong destination. Even if the Navy searched elsewhere, the river was heavily populated and word would surely have reached the settlers there. Everyone would have an eye out for us and the treasure. The men were all restless, and I decided to scout the mouth of the river and if all was clear we would move now.
8
With my first power struggle behind me, I still felt oddly self-conscious leading. I would stay in command, but Rhames had made it clear that he would have veto power and would back me as long as he agreed. The politics could wait; at this point I was focused on escaping the Navy and keeping the group intact. Getting the men safe, fed, and watered was a top priority. It was hard to control a hungry group and, as I had learned yesterday, there were some willing to risk their lives and the treasure for a hot meal. It would be a constant battle to fight their need for immediate gratification. We needed to get off the water by late afternoon, somewhere safe where we could make a fire.
It turned out to be an easy row, the elements all in our favor. We stayed quiet during the night, not knowing if there were any Navy scouts on the water or boat crews camped nearby. I thought they had gone after our decoy boats, but a shrewd captain would have sent boats toward Pine Island as well. It was a misty, cold night and we were thankful when the sun rose. We had reached our goal for the night and the landmass blocked the frigate’s view of us. Protected again by the islands near shore, the men’s spirits picked up with the sun and, as the morning wore on, we rowed through Buzzards Bay with no sign of the Navy men. As we exited the bay, I estimated we were halfway down Pine Island and started thinking where we could camp for the night. It was essential that we find a camp with fresh water and where we could start a fire. I knew I would start losing the confidence of the men if we continued in this condition.
“We need to cross to the island and camp,” I told Rhames, the first words we had spoken all night.
“Aye,” he responded.
Ahead of us was a large island in the center of the channel. We changed course toward the back side, further screening us from any pursuit. As we reached Pine Island, I started looking for a place to camp, but the coast was marshy and looked less than hospitable. From my position facing backwards as I rowed, I could see the faces of the men in the boats behind us and knew we would have to make camp soon. Around a bend, I pointed toward a small inlet. For better or worse, this was it. The adrenaline I was running on for the last two days was waning, and the men had reached their breaking point.
“Is this it, then?” someone called from another boat.
I tried to exude confidence and replied, “It is.” Just as I said it, we lurched forward as the bottom of the boat scraped an oyster bar, and our oars smashed against the barnacles, grounding us in the entrance. I jumped out and started to push, hoping it would look like I knew the obstacle was there, and it was all part of the plan. Again, Rhames sensed my predicament and jumped out. The boat floated across the bar easily without our weight, and we guided it over the shoal through the calf-deep water. On the other side of the obstruction we hopped back in and continued rowing, watching behind us as the other boats followed our lead.
Two more bends came in quick succession, and I started looking for a place to land. The marshes soon turned into gravel beaches, and I nodded my head toward one. We beached the boats, got out, and stretched the stiffness from our joints. The land under my feet felt good, although my legs were wobbly after nearly eight hours in the boat. The other boats grounded, and we pulled them above the high-tide line. We milled around, exploring the immediate area, not knowing where to start. The island was nowhere near as hospitable as Gasparilla Island. Mosquitos swarmed ,and every step needed to be guarded lest you step into a marshy pit.
“Let’s start a fire. It’s daylight. If we use dry wood it won’t smoke badly.” Several men moved toward a mound and started to dig out a firepit, while others moved inland to scrounge for wood. Twenty minutes later, Rhames struck his flint and the coconut husks caught. Soon the wood above was crackling, and I looked to the sky, happy the smoke was almost invisible. We were used to camp life, and there were no orders needed as we sorted ourselves out, everyone performing the tasks best suited for them. The meat was smoking over the fire now, and I went to the beach and pushed a boat into the water.
“Oysters,” I yelled, as I caught the looks of several of the men who thought that I was absconding with the treasure chests onboard. I rowed to the bar at the inlet, both to collect the mollusks and, more importantly, to check if any boats were near. Thankful we were still unnoticed, I hopped out of the boat and started harvesting oysters, prying them off with my knife. I had a large pile in the bottom of the boat when I pulled off the bar and started back to camp. On the beach, the men were gathered around the fire, eating turtle and drinking the succulent juice from the coconuts they had foraged. It seemed, at least for tonight, we were safe.
Several of the men talked amongst themselves, and I was surprised I had no interest in their conversation. I started to appreciate the value of Rhames as I fought sleep and finished cooking the meat and oysters. The fire would have to be extinguished before dusk, and it would be another cold night, but we had warm food in our bellies and our thirst was sated from the coconut water.