Page 5 of If I Go Down with This Ship

Smiling, I turn to him.“Something about the adventure, you know?The freedom.I’m writing a book, but…” I trail off, laughing awkwardly.He doesn’t need to hear my life’s story.“Louise was saying something about a model?”

George smiles, and I finally pause to take him in.He is an older man in his fifties, his graying hair thinning along the top.He’s dressed like an eighteenth-century merchant in a brocade coat and pants that stop just below his knees.His black leather boots are freshly shined, and there’s a hat tucked under his arm.He hobbles a bit as he comes near, leaning the better part of his weight on his right leg.

“One of your sister’s colleagues discovered the wheel of the original ship off the coast of New Providence in The Bahamashanging in a museum.As you probably know,” he says, glancing between the two of us, “most pirates at this time sailed the Caribbean, zipping between ports along the New World.But as the decades went on, English officials and locals started anti-piracy efforts.”He pats the mast affectionately.“The beaut this ship is modeled off was a semi-famed pirate ship with a nasty crew aboard it for some fifteen years before they were finally gunned down by a group of privateers working alongside the British navy.”

“Fifteen years,” I whisper in awe, making a note.“That’s a long time to be a pirate.”

George laughs.“It’s highly unusual, that’s for sure.But a lot of men believed in the cause, in fighting against the British and living a life of freedom.It was a difficult time to live for the average person, with harsh working conditions and widespread poverty.Some were turned away from society with no other options; others joined because they thought they’d find glory aboard a ship and with a crew such as this.”He sighs, leaning against the mast.“Most pirates only lasted a few years on the water, caught because they got cocky or became foolish.Once your name is known, it’s even more difficult to run, so the more notoriety you had, the shorter you sailed.Not to mention crews would get fed up with captains.Mutinies often led to the slaughter of entire crews.”

I nod slowly, looking out over the deck as I close my notebook.My gaze lands on the wheel, my fingers itching to tighten around it.“So the wheel was found?Where, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“It’s said the wheel was found buried in the sand some three hundred feet inland by a local.They put it up in a local maritime museum.Wood rots relatively quickly, and in warmwaters it doesn’t last very long, so no other remnants of the ship were found, but we were able to scrape together some sketches from maritime illustrations and stories about the ship and the crew.Along with a few sailors I know and a crew of carpenters, we were able to re-create the ship from the model Louise’s colleague created.”

I lick my lips, peering up the length of the mast.“Not that I’m looking to go out on the water, but does she sail?”

George laughs.“What kind of ship would she be if she didn’t?”He motions to a set of stairs just behind me.“Come.Why don’t I give you a tour?”

2All I Caribbean About Is Getting the Hell Out of Here

Grinninglike fools, Louise and I eagerly follow George down the stairs to the main deck.There’s a strange fluttering in my chest as I take it all in, my steps sure as I duck under a beam.I’ve never felt like this, giddy and excited, my pulse leaping into my throat like this ship can somehow disappoint me.

It hasn’t yet.

If anything, this has let me forget the failings of the day, my frustrations with Louise, my fear of the water surrounding us, the feeling of being unsettled.All of those steadily began disappearing into one of the little boxes in the back of my mind the moment I set foot on this ship, neatly tucked away until I’m ready to face them.

Up close and with my notebook in hand, I jot down more details, trying not to miss anything.The ropes are carefully coiled and tied with complicated knots.Cannons peer outfrom between rails with lines of cannonballs next to them and pouches of gunpowder tied up beside them, ready for battle.

I spin in place, eyes trailing over wood and metal, scraping along the deck as I picture a pirate crew running across it.If I close my eyes, I can almost see the crew, hear the calls of a captain on the quarterdeck, and feel the sway of the ship as it cuts through choppy waters.I puff out my cheeks, biting back bile from the mere thought.

Don’t think about the water and you’ll be fine.

I open my eyes and refocus on the ship.

Unlike the ships in some of the well-loved, grand cinematic portrayals of pirates, there is no separate gun deck aboard it.All in all, the ship is much smaller than the ones I’ve seen on-screen.

“How many people would crew a ship this size?”I ask George.

“Hmm, twenty-five perhaps, no more than forty at any given time, I’d imagine.”

“A tight squeeze,” I murmur.I can hardly imagine a large crew fitting aboard this ship comfortably.

Breathing deep as I swivel to the cannons, it’s as if I can smell a strange hint of gunpowder, the touch of coal and metal lingering in my senses.For the first time since we’ve stepped aboard, the scent of the fish is gone, if only for a moment.

Louise must be reading my mind, because she glances up at me, snorting as she scrutinizes my expression.“It smells much better down here, doesn’t it?”Laughing, I nod.

“According to records,” George starts, peering over one of the cannons, “She Deceitfulwent down when the British navy appointed a new governor of New Providence.The entire crew was betrayed by a crewman for a universal pardon from theBritish when they arrived at port, or so the story goes.”George pats the cannon wistfully.“They nearly took down one of the ships with these cannons in that battle, but this smaller ship compared to three privateering ships?”George shakes his head.“January sixth, 1718, and New Providence had begun the transformation from a pirate stronghold into the center of anti-piracy.The Golden Age of Piracy was ending.”

“That’s a terrible way to go,” I say.

I can’t help but imagine what it must have felt like for their one place of solace off this ship to be captured by their enemy.My throat constricts, and I blink away a haze of tears as if I’ve lost it, too.Tilting my head, I run a finger along the nearest cannon.

“So this ship doesn’t have a separate gun deck?”

George shakes his head and hooks a thumb in his belt.“It’s a common misconception that Hollywood has perpetuated.Most privateering or pirate ships in the Golden Age of Piracy were actually quite small.In movies and TV shows, they’re typically large, three-masted ships with separate gun decks and large crews, but most pirates sailed small two-mast ships or sloops.Let me show you the captain’s cabin and the hold,” George says, motioning to us.

The captain’s cabin is down a makeshift hall in the back past several doors through which you can see narrow cots or supplies.I don’t have enough time to admire the other props and labels before we duck inside.Luckily, the cabin is just tall enough, leaving well over half a foot above me so I can straighten.It’s decked out in rich velvet cushions, with a large oak desk anchored to the floor by the windows and a private sleeping nook hidden by black curtains to our right.

“What kind of booty was kept there?”I whisper to Louise as she stops beside me.