Authors: Hank Manley
James Bonny stopped in front of his wife and pointed an accusatory finger directly in her face. “What be thee doing in this den of iniquity?” he shouted. “Why be thee partaking of grog with these strangers? Is this proper conduct for a married woman? Have thee no respect for thy husband?”
Anne Bonny stood and confronted her husband. She reached out and placed a protective arm around both Mary’s and Calico Jack’s shoulders. “These be no strangers,” she said defiantly. “These be me friends. Be off with thee. Leave me to drink with me shipmates.”
“Thee would rather be with these . . . these ruffians than home with thy husband,” James said angrily. His voice sounded immature and petulant.
“Tis so,” Anne said without hesitation. “I tire of thy childish ways and false promises of adventure. I cast thee out and pledge me lot with friends such as Mary and Warren and Calico Jack. From this day forward, I swear to the gods, I have no husband.”
“I’ll not hear of such blasphemy from me wife,” James said. “Thee pledged thyself to me at our wedding, though we snuck away and married in the middle of the night. Thee can not renege thy vows.”
Anne raised her flagon of grog and drained the last of the liquid. She hoisted the empty container as if making a solemn toast. “Remove thyself from me sight,” she said. “From this day forward, we no longer be husband and wife. I choose to remain with Captain Calico Jack.”
Jack Rackman allowed a tight smile to cross his face. His future appeared to have changed before his eyes in the space of a few minutes. He wasn’t certain the new direction was for the better, but he realized that his life would be potentially more exciting than it had ever been before.
James Bonny dropped his head. The humiliation was mortifying. His wife had publicly renounced their marriage in front of dozens of pirates and buccaneers. The lowly wenches serving rum and grog in the tavern had heard the rejection. There would be nowhere on the island James could walk without somebody looking at him and laughing at his shame.
The spurned husband stormed from the Royal Arms Tavern. His mind spun with possibilities to destroy his wife and her friends for the devastating disgrace he had just experienced.
Anne Bonny hailed the serving wench and signaled for another round of drinks.
Warren woke aboard Captain Calico Jack Rackman’s frigate
Vanity
. His head ached. Following the departure of Anne Bonny’s husband James from the rollicking King’s Arms Tavern, the fiery young woman had insisted the young pirate properly toast her new status as a single woman with a drop of rum in his pineapple juice. One drop turned to several drops, and one flagon of the concoction became three.
The taste was not unpleasant. The effects, though gradual, were manifest. Warren heard himself talking more than usual. Mundane comments by Anne and Mary suddenly seemed wildly humorous. Jack Rackman’s pronouncements about life as a pirate carried significant gravitas. Warren’s attitude toward Mary became bolder. At one poignant moment he leaned over, gripped her shoulder with his hand, and kissed her on the cheek.
Mary became playful and suggestive. She cuddled Warren when he said something clever. She raised her eyebrows and laughed when he unexpectedly delivered his kiss. Her fingers beckoned him closer, suggesting her interest in additional intimacies, but Warren pulled away with a blush of embarrassment. Mary seemed genuinely sorry the impromptu gesture of affection had been terminated.
An Irish harpist arrived later in the evening and entertained the merry crowd with well-known tunes such as the mournful
I’ll Never
Love Thee More
and
Maggie Laidir
. Warren was swept up in the spirit of the plaintive love songs and inched closer to Mary on the bench seat. He looked at her and sighed. Puzzling passions surged through his youthful soul, and he struggled to make sense of the new emotions.
Mary interrupted his mental gymnastics. “Come, Warren,” she said suddenly. “Let me teach thee the Irish jig.” Together, the two young pirates dashed toward the front of the tavern. The young woman took Warren’s hands in hers and led him in a vigorous rendition of the traditional Irish dance.
“This is fun,” Warren said.
Conchshell followed the energetic couple to the open space near the harp. The blonde Labrador sat obediently, quietly yipping her approval of the proceedings, and licking the last of the lamb scraps from her jowls.
When the music paused, Warren and Mary returned to their table. Anne Bonny and Jack Rackham were engaged in deep conversation. The pirate captain and the aspiring novice to the profession were lost in each other’s company.
“Captain Rackman,” Mary ventured uncertainly. “Hast thou room aboard thy ship for Warren and me for the night? We’ve just arrived in Nassau late this afternoon and have had no time to secure lodging.”
“Aye,” Calico Jack said. “Anne has agreed to come for a visit tonight. Let us all repair to the ship. I vouch we’ve had our share of grog and rum for an evening. And ye two have danced thy legs weary.”
The four pirates, accompanied by Conchshell, departed the King’s Arms and wandered wobbly to Captain Jack’s launch. The two men managed to row the little vessel in a serpentine path toward
Vanity
, anchored just fifty meters off the shore in the protected harbor. The ride was accompanied by much playful banter and teasing from the two young women sitting in the stern.
* * *
Warren rubbed his eyes and looked up at the sun which was high above the horizon. He couldn’t remember when he had slept so late. He wandered across
Vanity’s
main deck and lifted the lid on the barrel of fresh water. He took a mouthful, swirled the warm liquid around in his fuzzy mouth, and spat over the side. Then he swallowed several cups. The extent of his thirst surprised him.
“Shelly girl,” he said when the Labrador approached. “Did you have a good time last night? Did you see me learning the Irish jig? Am I a good dancer or what?”
Mary emerged through one of the hatchways in the forecastle and walked toward Warren. She shielded the sun from her squinting eyes with an extended hand. “How be thy head?” she asked seriously. “I vouch last night was thy first encounter with rum.”
“I feel . . . thirsty,” Warren admitted. “And I guess I have a slight headache. Is that what rum does to you?”
“Aye,” Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders. “The rum has been known to leave a reminder of its presence in the morning.”
“I never danced an Irish jig before,” Warren said. “Thank you for teaching me.”
“And I vouch ye never leaned over and kissed a pretty girl on the cheek, either,” Mary said with a laugh. “I may not be loath to order ye another flagon come this evening, if that’s the effect it has on thee.”
Warren blushed and looked around the ship to deflect Mary’s attention. Several of the members of Captain Jack’s crew were awake and toiling at small chores. Suddenly there was shouting from the water. Two of the pirates wandering the deck walked to the side of the ship and looked down.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Warren said. “Come on. Let’s see.”
Mary, Conchshell and Warren approached the side. A small launch was approaching. The single occupant was frantically rowing and shouting for attention.
“Ahoy the
Vanity
,” the thin man screamed. “Me needs an audience with Captain Jack.”
A bow line was hastily thrown up from the coxswain to a pair of hands reaching over the railing. The frenzied pirate scrambled up the rope ladder hanging over the side and dashed toward the captain’s quarters in the stern of the ship. He pounded on the hatch. “Captain Rackman,” he shouted. “I must speak with thee. It be important.”
Calico Jack’s muffled reply sounded through the entry. “Enter and come aft.”
“What be the problem?” one of the pirates asked Mary. “Thee was with the captain last night, were thee not? What happened?”
“Nay, nothing happened,” Mary said defensively. “We spent the evening at the King’s Arms. Several flagons of rum and grog were enjoyed, but there be no trouble. Captain Jack even talked of taking the governor’s pardon and abandoning the pirate ways.”
The hatch from the captain’s quarters below the raised rear deck exploded open. Calico Jack Rackman appeared in the opening. He was dressed in his brightly colored, knee-length pants. White stockings covered his feet. The front of his shirt was open, and he clasped it shut with one of his hands.
“Man the capstan,” he shouted. “Weigh the anchor. We depart the harbor immediately.”
Anne Bonny appeared behind Calico Jack. She was dressed solely in white undergarments. Her platinum hair was tangled around her neck and fell past her exposed shoulders.
“What be the problem, captain?” one of the pirates called from the forecastle.
“The governor has declared us all pirates and outlaws,” Calico Jack said. “There be no pardon for any of the crew of
Vanity
. As of this minute, we be enemies of the Crown and subject to hanging if caught.”
“But we talked of taking the pardon,” another pirate protested. “The governor pledged to issue a pardon to any that swore to give up the ways of the pirate.”
The thin pirate who had rowed hysterically to
Vanity
from the shore stepped through the hatch opening. “Aye, lads,” he said. “Ye all know the governor’s cowardly informant, James Bonny. This very morning he convinced the governor to withhold any pardon for Captain Jack as punishment for stealing his wife. Anyone who sails with Captain Jack also loses their chance for a pardon.”
“Ye mean that we all be enemies of the Crown, all of us aboard
Vanity
?” another pirate called.
“Aye, lads,” the thin sailor nodded. “And the governor aims to send a Royal sloop to arrest us all. When we be caught, it be our necks that will stretch, as certain as the day follows the night.”
Warren looked at Mary. “Do you think this applies to us?” he asked. “We’re really not part of the
Vanity
crew.”
The pirate bearing the bad news overheard Warren’s question and responded. “James Bonny knows of thee, Marty Read. He named thee as one of Captain Jack’s crew, ye and thy friend there. He saw ye both in the tavern last night with his wife.”
“I was hoping to find somebody in Nassau who could direct me to Serenity Cay,” Warren said plaintively. “This is my chance to return home to my parents. I know Serenity Cay is not too far away.”
“Where be this Serenity Cay,” the gaunt pirate asked curiously. “There be no island of that name in these waters with people living ashore.”
Warren’s heart sank. He looked at Conchshell who was sitting on her haunches by his feet. The Labrador’s tongue was nestled between her prominent lower front teeth as she breathed through her mouth. The dog could tell something important was taking place by the excited attitudes of the humans. She was alert and ready should her master need her.
Warren looked at Mary and closed his eyes for several seconds. He lowered his chin as a wave of sadness swept over him. He had never felt such an attraction to a female in his short life. Were the feelings he was experiencing actually inchoate pangs of love? Was he capable of genuine love for a woman at his age? One thing he knew with certainty, he would be extremely sad if he never saw Mary Read again.
“I thought we’d be on our way home once we got to Nassau, Shelly girl,” Warren said. He turned toward Calico Jack who was watching his men prepare to depart the harbor.
“Captain,” he implored. “I can’t go with you. I’ve got to go home to my mother and father.”
“And where be thy home?” Calico Jack asked in a distracted tone as he witnessed two pirates beginning to turn the capstan, gathering anchor chain from the bottom of the harbor. “Is it this place called Serenity Cay I hear ye talk of?”
“Yes,” Warren said affirmatively. “Do you know it?”
“Nay, lad,” Captain Rackman said. “Ye best come with us. There be no Serenity Cay, and the governor will have thy young neck in a hangman’s noose if ye stay in Nassau.”
Mary watched a sad expression draw across Warren’s face as he resigned himself to his plight. Her heart ached in sympathy, but selfishly she felt a surge of joy as she realized the object of her growing affections would not be departing the ship.
“Up the mast, lads,” Calico Jack called. “Lower the sails. We be bound for Jamaica where the gold and rum be flowing like the incoming tide.”
Vanity
had sailed out the eastern end of Nassau Harbor, crossed the Yellow Bank which was scattered with dangerous coral heads, and entered the Exuma Sound by passing Ship Channel Cay to starboard. The water immediately deepened and turned cobalt blue. A brisk trade wind from the southeast had necessitated tacking across the sound, rounding Long Island and Crooked Island, before turning in a southerly heading for the eastern tip of Cuba.
The low islands of the Bahamas, bordered by necklaces of beaches, had given way to the precipitous landmasses of Hispaniola and Cuba which rose sharply from the sea. The deep purple of the ocean crashed directly on the rocky coasts of the huge islands, and tall mountains of lush green jungle ascended into the azure sky where fluffy balls of cumulous cloud crowned the lofty peaks.
Warren and Mary stood transfixed on the forecastle of
Vanity
. Conchshell stood between the captivated couple. The Labrador happily wagged her tail and sniffed the intoxicating scents that drifted with the salty air from the verdant island of Jamaica three miles ahead.
The coloration of the ocean was so intensely blue, and the sky so magnificently expansive and bright, the two fleeing pirates stared speechless, mesmerized by the beauty surrounding the ship.
Warren’s homesickness had gradually diminished as the miles swept under
Vanity’s
keel. The inevitability of his situation made longing for his parents seem entirely futile. The splendor of the ocean and the fascinating change of the passing islands assuaged his initial sadness at departing Nassau. The opportunity to spend more time with Mary and explore his budding amorous feelings substituted for his yearning to return to Serenity Cay.