Bosun Sir

It has always amazed and fascinated me how my whole life seemed to flash by me in times of mortal danger. Usually the whole episode is somewhat abridged but nevertheless the salient points wiz by, sufficiently quickly for me to take the necessary steps at the time to take evasive action to protect myself and try and avert the inevitable. Today, as I stride the deck, every detail passes by since the imminent danger I’m in, we are in, is being thankfully prolonged and the reaper is only stoning his blade in readiness. Maybe I should pray but that only dulls the senses. I need my wits about me and maybe my action will avert the worst of my or our predicament.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Carlos. Don Carlos de Trevelez as I like to call myself. Since I didn’t have or know my second name when I left home, I adopted the ‘Trevelez’ from the name printed on the cured hind quarters of some swine, hanging temptingly in a tavern. The ‘Don’ is simply an affectation that I have no right to given my lowly status at birth but who is to know and for others to ponder over and allow me some deference and illicit leeway in this harsh life. Here, on this God forsaken ship, I am addressed as ‘Bosun Sir’ with a deferential touch of the forelock, that I have neatly adapted from the English Navy where I acquired my excellent knowledge of seamanship that I am proud of and only hope that it sees me through this immediate passage of peril.

I hail from a small community of Peons, labourers, from Castar, a distant part of a large estate just two to three day’s journey from the City of Merida, in the Province of Extramadura. The whole vast estate belongs to some Duke or other who resides in Merida when not licking the arse of the King in some grand palace in Madrid. I was the tenth surviving child of a family of peons, tied labourers to part of the Duke’s estate run by a good for nothing distant cousin who was more interested in lining his own pockets than managing the land and the labourers as it should be.

 I was the age of ten when I overheard my parents discussing me. I was growing too quickly and eating too much but not old enough to do a man’s job or more importantly receive the paltry reward for a man on the estate. I was a burden to my family, so I ran away. I followed the sun and headed for Merida where the roads were paved with gold and the doors were encrusted with huge jewels or that was what we were all led to believe. It was nothing of the sort and I survived by thieving and occasionally making myself useful to some shopkeeper or innkeeper.

 A carter took me to the port of Lisboan where I cast my first glance of the sea. As a strong lad I managed to get regular work there as a stevedore, loading and offloading cargo at the port or helping the men on the fishing boats. It kept me fed, clothed and sufficient spare to visit the taverns and not be thrown out onto the streets. The tavern talk of the dangers of the sea and ship life kept me on land but I always had a hankering to try the marine life. A hog’s head of beer happened my way but sampling the goods with my mates slowed us down and the rightful proprietor plus his henchmen caught up with us and set upon us with their clubs. I slashed one with my knife and made a run for it. Being well known and nowhere to hide I offered my services to a tramp ship’s skipper that plied up and down the coast, carrying olive oil and wine and anything else that the Master contracted to ship. 

Life wasn’t bad on board with plenty of land time when in port and I was big enough and more importantly streetwise enough to look after myself. Shipmates stayed clear of me and my sharp blade. I liked the life and prospered until a French privateer, a pirate, captured us, stole our cargo, sank the ship for no apparent reason and we were press ganged into French service. It was a much larger vessel. Some ten times the size of our little coastal freighter with cannons bristling out of many portholes. They ventured further out to sea, way beyond the sight of land which frightened me at first but I soon learned that one of the Senior Officers was able to read the stars, the winds and the currents to find our way with ease. I promised myself that I would learn this art of blind man’s bluff and soon wormed my way to be the navigator’s assistant. What a world of knowledge this opened up for me. I was born again or that’s how it felt. My eyes were open not only to the skills but to penmanship. The Chief Navigator, Lord Ester of Liberone was a hard taskmaster and I had to learn quickly under his tutelage or be cast into the ordinary seaman’s pool where hard graft and punishment awaited at every corner.

“Bosun Sir! We are awaiting our morning victuals!”

“Pardon me my Lord but all men including your cook are employed pumping and baling out the ship.”

“See to it my man and sharp about it.”

That’s what I have to put up with, you see. In this hour of utmost danger, I have to see to the Master’s breakfast. The ship is sinking fast. The pumps and the many pails cannot keep up with the ingress and his Lordship the Master of this bloody sieve wants his breakfast or his last supper if he only realised, before he meets his maker. I’ve already had to clobber the Holy Priest unconscious with a belaying pin having him dragged half a dozen of willing men from the buckets to useless pray on deck. Pray only delays the inevitable in these circumstances. Our options are simple. We either beach this bucket or we are liable to sink. We have to breach the reef or we are done for. 

“Cook! See to the victuals for the Master and his companions. Be quick about it and back to the pumps or you will be feeding the fish!”

Now, where was I? Ah yes. The French Master of the galleon, captured from the Spanish was cunning fellow who plied his trade off the Spanish and English coast capturing unwary ships bound for port. His richest pickings were the trade ships from the new lands to the West which were full of cotton, rich lumber and occasional treasures. These were easy picking since the Spanish ships spied a Spanish vessel, flying their colours, ready to escort them back safely home. They were mistaken as they were ordered to heave to as the gun ports faced them at short distance.

 Knowledge, information and intelligence of shipping movements were key factors in not wasting too much time scanning the horizon so the Master, bless his soul, decided to enter the Port of Lisboan, flying the Spanish colours on the pretence of provisioning his ship in readiness to sail to the new lands. Since it was known that I was well acquainted with the City and spoke the local language I was decked out as an officer with an appropriate floppy Spanish hat and with a handful of men was sent into town to gather intelligence on shipping in the taverns. I was given a hefty purse to oil the tongues and also to purchase goods from the chandlers and merchants who, on the sight to a few silver and gold coins would open up with more information.

My first mission was to split the men up and ensure they were well ensconced in various taverns with a generous supply of coins whilst I quickly headed to the far Eastern extremities of the City, bought a donkey and high tailed it to Merida with a healthy pouch of coins.

“Bosun Sir!” shouted the lookout high in the mast.

“Yes, my lad.”

“There’s a small ship beached over yonder!” came the instant reply.

“Is it a canoe or is it larger?.....  Sea going?”

“Not a canoe Bosun Sir! A mast. Twice or thrice the size of our largest landing boat!”

“I’m coming up! How the hell did it get through the reef?” I shouted as I quickly scaled the rigging and joined the lad at lookout. “I can see it lad. Good work. Now how the devil did he get through the reef? Look out for signs of life lad. Our lives depend on this. Spot a village, town or any signs of habitation, then, we are likely to find a crack to squeeze through.”

“Bosun Sir! Beg your pardon but two degrees off the vessel are two hills that don’t look natural.”

“I see them lad, I see them. Well spotted. What the hell! If we are going to sink then we might as well do it for a purpose lad. I think they are land markers that will lead us through the reef if we line them up. Ahoy Helmsman down there!”  

“Aye, aye Bosun Sir!”

“Get two helpers to the helm and two seamen to man the sails!” I shouted down for all to hear. “We will turn sharply to port and I will guide you through the reef. We can see free passage!” I shouted down. The last part was a figment of imagination but gave the men down there some hope. “Off you go lad. Help with the sails and I’ll guide us through.”

A roar of appreciation, more of relief, went up as we grounded on the beach.

“Men at Arms! To your stations!” I shouted as I slid down the rigging. “Man the port cannon! Give out the weapons from the armoury!” I shouted. We were safe from drowning but highly vulnerable to an attack from the shore. I didn’t feel like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. “Yellow shift! Take the anchor rope and secure us on shore!” I ordered. “Captain at Arms! Take half your men ashore and secure our boundary!” At least we would have warning of an imminent attack. “Take the attack dogs ashore and give them a run.” We had four vicious hounds that would tear you to shreds given half the chance. They would be better on land than on the ship. At least they would have time to lose their sea legs.

I expected the shore party to launch our boat but they just slid down the side and waded on shore. Why didn’t I order that? Too pre-occupied and relieved of being safe.

“Bosun Sir!” came a shout from aloft.

“Yes lad. What do you see?” Must praise the lad for returning to his post in all the excitement. “What is it?”

“There’s some people just come out of the trees…. Five degrees to port Bosun Sir!”

“Less of the ‘Bosun Sir.’ Tell me what they are up to?” I shouted with concern.

“Sir! Sir! They are running away. They’ve left behind two strings of people with their necks all strung up to poles.”

“Bloody slave traders!” I shouted more in disgust, “What activity on the vessel next to us lad?”

“There are men running to the rigging Sir! They mean to launch Bosun Sir!”

“Bugger that!” I shouted and yelled to the gunmen. “Put a hole in that ship. Below water line and be quick about it!” as I watched the Head Bombardier, salute and order his men. The blast shook the boat and got the land party to look our way for further commands. I sprinted to the fore deck and barked orders for the land party to capture the seamen abandoning their vessel. I watched them seize five and the dogs managed to knock down another two. They loped along as if they were drunk, still on sea legs. Another four escaped as I called my men back.

“We still haven’t had our morning victuals Bosun and what’s all this commotion?”

“We are beached and safe from drowning my Lordship! Now if his Lordship doesn’t mind I have to go on shore and ensure our safety.” I left the chinless wonder staring after me as I leapt over the ship’s side and waded onto dry land ordering the green shift to come ashore with their weapons.

“Bosun Sir! Bosun Sir! We have captured these sailors and brought the slaves here. Shall I release them?”

“No such thing Captain at Arms. Make sure that all the prisoners are securely thrust up and secure the perimeters as ordered! Yellow shift! Board the vessel and secure it. Be careful. There may be more pirates aboard.”

“Pirates, Bosun Sir?”

“Pirates, my man! I can smell one away on the horizon if need be. Report back what you find.” I looked back at our sinking ship which was now settling nicely in the sand. I wondered if we would ever be able to launch her again? We would have to seal the leaks and replenish her stores, especially water. I felt thirsty as I watched His Lordship, his mate, Henryk the young squire and a lady we called Maria being rowed ashore in the little shore boat. I went over to welcome them on the beach and help Maria. She had been ill throughout the passage and the last storm which separated us from the main fleet, made her so ill that I though the poor lass was going to become fish meal. She had survived thankfully and could be useful to us since she was a native of these lands and spoke the local language, we all hoped.

“Let me help you Donna Maria. You will be very unsteady when you get ashore.” I picked her up in my arms and carried her ashore and carefully placed her under the shade of a tree. To hell with the other spineless lot, they can help themselves the ungrateful lot.

“Ahoy Bosun Sir!” came the shout from the captured vessel. “We found two seamen, pirates, hiding down below. There’s also about twenty prisoners in cages below. They are in quite a pitiful state Bosun Sir! Shall we bring them ashore Bosun Sir?”

“Bring them up on deck only lad! Thrust up the two pirates and one of you bring them ashore! Well done lads!” I walked over and sat besides Maria.

“How are you feeling Donna Maria? Any better, now that we are on dry land? Here have a drink of water from my flask. It’s only rotten ship’s water but we will find some fresh.”

“Thank you, Bosun Sir. You are very kind. I feel much better on dry land, especially on My land.”

“Donna Maria, when you feel better would you mind talking to the prisoners and finding out about them and where is the nearest source of water?”

“Yes Bosun Sir. I will do that when I have rested a little. I am just as anxious to find out where we are.” I left her and went off to check the Captain at Arms and found he had returned to the ship on some pretence.  The Sergeant was left to organise his men and he was doing a decent job of it. He had cleared and demarked our so called camp by the shade of the trees and his men were clearing the surrounding area of brushwood and building it into a sort of a thorny barrier around us to keep us safe. Safe from what I did not know. I decided to ignore the Lordships and waded out to the newly captured vessel. The sailors had made up a makeshift canopy from the sail and the prisoners or slaves huddled under it, away from the sun. They looked in a sorry state and refused eye contact. My men had given them small amounts of food and water. Anything they could find on the ship. Even they felt sorry for them and drew containers of seawater for them to wash and cool down.

I waded back to our ship and told the crew to take all the empty and full water barrels onto shore and let the men drink their fill. I had to find water. His Lordships tried to catch my attention but I ignored them. I had other things on my mind.

“Bosun Sir.”

“Oh hello Donna Maria. You are looking much better. Colour in your cheeks.”

“Thank you Bosun Sir. It’s the heat. I have managed to communicate with your prisoners. They are from a town some ten kilometres from here. The pirates captured them when they were out tilling the fields. We also have somebody who is important, a chief or military commander. He was with his guards scouting when they were ambushed and captured by that band.”

“Did you find out where the nearest source of water is?”

“Yes Bosun Sir. It’s not far and this chief can show you. It’s a wide hole in the ground and the water is good. Can I go with you? I can translate.”

I organised a group of three soldiers with crossbows, the chief, Maria and I also took the bitch Mita, away from the other dogs who would be troublesome with Mita loose and free for their affections. Henryk volunteered to join us bringing his long gun and powder. I had misjudged this lad Henryk who I had though a waste of time, spending all of the passage as an important passenger lazing in the cabin. After the storm he had come up to me and asked how he could help. I suggested that if he wanted us all to survive that he should man the water containers and help with the bailing. He immediately stripped off his shirt, boots and set to.

I released the chief from the head strap but kept him on a long leash to stop him heading off. He led the way with Maria, the three guards following and Henryk and I brought up the rear, all on guard. It wasn’t too long before we entered a clearing and found a deep wide hole, a chasm in the ground, a cenote or sink hole. I could smell the fresh water down below. There didn’t seem a way down but eventually we found a bucket on the end of a rope, left there by some local. The chief dropped the bucket down into the water and brought up a welcome sight. Fresh water and wasn’t it good. We all had a long drink, even Mita and I filled up my skin, brought specially for the purpose.

One of the guards was sent back to camp with the orders to employ the pirates to carry the empty water barrels to fill. I thought it would be appropriate to have these guys work for us. Soon a convoy of pirates arrived with guards. The barrels were strapped, hanging between two poles and two pirates manning the poles. Once the operation was working to my satisfaction I looked around and found Henryk eager to explore further. He had noticed abandoned buildings in the distance and wanted to check them out.

Maria was left behind to make her own way to the encampment. Henryk, the chief, one guard with a crossbow plus Mita and I set off through the dense scrub towards the buildings. We soon found a well worn path that made things easier. People were obviously still living there and I called everybody to be alert. The chief tried to communicate with me, telling me that there might be only a handful of fishermen living there. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t survive a storm, sinking ship and a reef only to die with an arrow through my heart. The chief was right. The place was deserted, overgrown and abandoned apart from one simple dwelling with a thatched roof, we found from the wood smoke of a cooking fire. The inhabitants had obviously heard us and fled. 

A flat-bread was burning on a fire stone and I set it aside with my dagger. Mita pulled away from me and before I had a chance to retrieve her lead she had pounced into the corner. I saw a baby lying asleep and thought that would be the end but Mita stopped, bent down and licked the baby’s face. Mothers! We left the baby and started back to the ceñote when Henryk asked to explore further. I insisted he took the guard for safety. At the ceñote I told the guards to leave the bucket shipshape for the owner. A seaman coiled the rope and stood the bucket besides it. That’s how I liked to see things done. I ordered one of the guards to take the chief back ahead of me and I would follow on at the rear with Mita and continue with my musings in a better frame of mind.

After running away with the ship’s purse and getting to Merida I decided to purchase two more donkeys, some goats and provisions for the family. I knew it was hazardous to take all this wealth to Castar on my own so I hired three men to accompany me. I gave them a coin with the promise of another one on a job fulfilled. The area was full of thieves, bandits and vagabonds who would be only too willing to part me from my goods and my life. I was probably a strapping fifteen year old by then sporting a stubbly beard and first growth of a moustache. I was big and could handle myself but not against a band of thieves.

 It was the second night that my compatriots decided to make their move. I was asleep against a bank of earth with one eye open, seaman’s style, and a donkey tethered nearby. I was used to being woken on the ships to work the shifts where the last man on deck usually suffered a bout of punishment. I was ready and I knew the donkey would alert me to the presence of anyone approaching. It was well after midnight that they made their move having sized me up as a young country lad. Instead of advancing from three directions they all approached me from the front. The restless donkey had alerted me and I was ready with my rusty cutlass in my grasp. The one with the club attacked first but my swinging cutlass gashed his thigh and he fell backwards screaming. The second man with a dagger got a clout on the head with the side of the cutlass which stopped him in his tracks. By now I was up, charging the third man who promptly dropped his cudgel and ran off into the night. I picked up the club and silenced the howler and gave the dagger man an extra blow on the head.

 There was nothing for me to do but make my way in the dark away from this camp but firstly I searched them both. Found two money bags with a few extra coins other than the ones I had given them. I stripped them of their clothes including their boots which I had had mended and resoled for them for the journey at my expense. The clothing could be washed and mended. The club I put into a bag on the donkey and stuffed the rather elegant dagger in my belt. The rusty old cutlass that the French had given me was so bent I couldn’t get it back in its fine scabbard. I deposited them in the bag with the club and trudged off into the night leading a string of donkeys and goats. By now I was on familiar territory so I could keep off the main tracks and not get lost.

That early morning I arrived home before the cock had crowed, or at least would have if it hadn’t long gone into the pot. The family awoke and gathered around me looking sheepish and afraid of the situation. I placed a bag of flour, jar of olive oil, onions, carrots and a cured ham onto the outside table and asked my elder sister to make breakfast then I told them my tale. It was an hour or so before they understood and accepted what I had said and what I had brought. Apart from my mother who was in child again, they all left to work for our agent. Mother told me that things were much worse than before I had left and that the agent was greedier than ever. One of my sisters and brothers had died earlier in the year from starvation.

They returned home at dusk and silently ate their sumptuous meal which I had prepared with my mother’s instructions. Then they went to bed without a word to me. Next morning before they went off, the agent’s supervisor arrived with two men and demanded a major share of the goods I had brought for my family. I grabbed him by the throat and stuck the recently acquired dagger in his face. I told his two henchmen to run off then I threatened the supervisor with what I would do with him, his wife, his children and his cousins if I heard of any repercussions on my family. I added that now I was rich, I had a band of people working for me, adding how on earth I had managed to get all these animals and goods through from Merida without being robbed on the way. I cut him twice deeply on each cheek which was a mark of a thief in the locality. He would have to live with the scars the rest of his life as I sent him off packing and bleeding.

The family watched with fear at my doing. There was no point in staying so when the family had gone off to work I told mother I would be back at regular intervals to check on them and told them not to be afraid of the agent or his supervisor. I told her to sell the two donkeys and the goats so that at least they wouldn’t be a constant reminder to the supervisor. I took the third donkey and with a sad heart rode back to Merida. I had one last task.

The donkey sold for a good price and I ventured into the tavern frequented by the staff of my Duke that ruled the estate. I was free with my coins and soon had a willing audience. I told them of passing through the estate of the Duke and criticised him heavily for not controlling his agents, cousins and family who ran his estates. I let them know that the agents were robbing the Duke blind and living lives probably better than the Duke himself but I stressed that this would all come to a sorry end soon as the peons were being pushed so hard and the land wasn’t being managed and that the goose that was laying the golden eggs was soon to expire of over work and starvation. I hoped that the message would get back to the Duke. I left before nightfall and made my way to Lisboan again.

“Bosun Sir! Bosun Sir!” shouted the young lookout looking rather sheepish.

“You don’t have to shout so loud lad. We are on land. What is it now?”

“His Lordship told me to tell you that he wants to see you immediately. He didn’t say what for.”

“Thank you my lad. Tell his Lordship… no, no, you take Mita here and keep her away from the other dogs. I’ll go.” I was sure it would be some petty discomfort to complain about but I was used to that from His Highness Lord Antonio of Navarra, the so called Captain of the ship and his Mate, the Count of Leon, who was an equally useless character. They had financed the ship, part of a convoy that was to sail to the New World and come back with riches to behold. I could have told them that that would not be the case. I already had been over here and pirated a number of returning vessels to know the real truth. But the Prince of something or other was going to lead the convoy and to lick his backside they had decided to sail along too. An adventure and keep on the right side of the Prince and his family. 

They had to have a position on board so they appointed themselves as Captain and Second Officer in Command. They had the common sense to appoint a proper Captain to direct them over the water on a jolly jape and that was me. Their agent had plied me with the best brandy and I was poured on board without checking out the tub. And a tub it was. Laid up for years and made shipshape on a smidgen of tar which would wash off when it hit its first real wave out in the Ocean. The only good thing was they provisioned it well or at least for themselves but frequently things spoiled and had to be thrown overboard as I told the cook to say.

“Ah Bosun, tell us the state of affairs. We are concerned.”

“I’m sure you are my Lordships. I have made things secure and safe here on land. The ship is safe but not seaworthy. I will have the carpenter check it out thoroughly tomorrow in good light. I suggest for your own safety and comfort you sleep on board tonight. The Captain of the Guard with a detail will be there to protect you and your cook plus servants will also be with you. I suggest that you depart now before the sun goes down.”

“Thank you Bosun for looking after our needs. We will talk tomorrow on how we join the rest of the fleet. Good night.” Everyone sighed, a gasp of relief when they departed.

“Sergeant, I have instructed the cook to send us back a keg of his Lordships best Fino so that we can celebrate in style. I charge you with doling it out sparingly. I don’t want any disorder. It’s a celebration of our landing safely. Now have you seen our Holiness?”

“Yes Bosun Sir. His Holiness has got over his headache and sea legs and now is in the process of converting the slaves on board the pirate ship. He gave up on the pirates as a lost cause.”

“Very well but make sure he gets back on the ship tonight. I don’t want him wandering about and spoiling the party.”

“Mr. Bosun Sir.”

“Yes Donna Maria. You look better with a smile on your face.”

“Thank you Sir. I have good news and I hope that I haven’t done anything wrong and gone over your command. Chief and I have sent one of the local captive women back to the town and the citizen of the town, in gratitude for overcoming the pirates, will send us food tonight.”

“What! Local natives coming here? Invading us?”

“Be assured that they will be friendly.”

“I’m not assured of anything Donna Maria. Does the Sergeant know of this? Sergeant, come here quickly! Have you heard what Donna Maria has told me? We could be attacked.”

“I am aware of the danger Bosun Sir. I have taken appropriate action. I will have fires lit at our perimeter corners and also some further out to warn us of any intruders. Patrols with dogs are out there checking the situation. All our muskets are loaded and the cannon on the prow is primed and set up. This should frighten off the first wave if we have an attack.”

“Good, good Sergeant, you have done well.”

“Bosun Sir! Two things I have to inform you of. Firstly, Mr. Henryk is on his way back with the guard. We had to send him some help to bring back an antelope and a wild boar they have killed for our meal tonight. He sent a message that there is plenty of game out there and we will fare well.”

“What is the second Sergeant? I hope this is just as good.”

“I’ll let Maria tell you…. Donna Maria.”

“I have had a long talk with the chief and the Sergeant also interrogated him closely through me. It seems that our chief is now an outcast having been captured by the pirates and many of the captives are in the same plight. Listen me out please Bosun Sir. If they go back to their town then they are just as likely to be sacrificed to their gods and they would rather stay here and help us.”

“We will certainly need help with caulking the ship and making it seaworthy but could this be a set up, a trap to have insiders, spies before they send in their armies and annihilate us?”  

“I don’t think so Bosun Sir. I know their customs and it all sounds true.”

“OK, OK, this is what we will do. The Sergeant and his men control the perimeter and when and if the locals come with food then we keep our local captives segregated and offer them the chance to go home or stay but they mustn’t confer. Got it?”

“Yes Bosun Sir, a sound plan. We will keep the pirates and also their captured slaves found on their ship since they aren’t local. They will help with the repairs. Now Bosun Sir, when the locals arrive with the food then I suggest that I meet them with Donna Maria on the far perimeter with a small guard and check things out. I won’t allow any in close with weapons of any sort.”

“I shall have to promote you to General. You are very competent Sergeant. You can be my second in command on land. I don’t think your boss is too keen to come out here in the dark. I will appoint him to be in charge of personally guarding our Lordships. Look over yonder there. Here comes young Henryk with our supper. I hope someone’s though of the cooking fire.

A small band of locals came, bringing bread, cooked chicken and fruit. We asked them to stay and share the food but they refused. Of the local captives only the mothers with children back home decided to return. The Chief was thankful to stay. Food and water was sent out to the slaves on the vessel. The pirates got only water. I wanted to weaken their resolve. Henryk was on a high and refused to go back on the ship. He even volunteered for sentry duty. I slept on the ground apart from anybody with Mita as a head cushion. As always with one eye open. 

The locals came every evening with food and we offered them half a hind, a boar, a basket of fish or a basket of abalone. Henryk surpassed himself with the hunting and also made contact with the fisherman in the abandoned city who seemed impressed that we had left him and his family alone. He became our main supplier of fish and he moved his family into the protection of the encampment.

 The carpenter assessed the state of the ship or sieve as we started to call it and reported that we needed to pull her further out on the beach before we caulked and tarred her. I quickly stated that if we raised her higher then she might wallow in the mud and sand and she would be stuck here for ever. The Sergeant, bless his soul, suggested that we pull her out on a raft of logs so that she wouldn’t sink into the mud. Best suggestion so far, by far. Suitable trees were cut down and the logs stacked on the beach. An army of workers emptied the ship of anything loose, including the ballast which was considerable. With the weight released the ship started to float off but the carpenter had a team of men pushing a steady raft of logs underneath her as she rose. Eventually we had everybody pulling on hawsers as logs were positioned under the keel. Satisfied, the carpenter called a halt and everyone collapsed apart from the Lordships who stood on the poop and surveyed the proceeding oblivious to the efforts on the beach and at the bows below them. A tremendous effort capped with success.

We were short of caulking material when the Chief sent for some raw cotton; far too good for the job but more than adequate. For the next five days everybody was involved in the caulking and tarring process. The hammering went on late into the night and finally the carpenter announced that the work was complete only plugging of the ship’s worm holes was left. At first this seemed a simple task until I inspected the hull. More holes than wood were my initial reflections.

As the time went by I noticed that the number of locals had increased and consulted Maria. She told me that locals were fleeing from their town at the time of great festivity and they saw our encampment as sanctuary from possible sacrifice. At that point I stirred into action and reorganised the camp to make it truly shipshape. Latrines were dug. Posts set to determine boundaries and sleeping arrangements defined. Some of my seamen were fraternising with the slave women and I put a dampener on their pleasures for the moment. I had to make everything shipshape with the help of the Sergeant and his guards who were now the encampment police. Each morning and evening I did my rounds and ensured all was in order and fully segregated. A spoilsport I know but a looser arrangement would lead to trouble.

The days were drawing nearer where individual pegs were being driven into the ground. I was in the camp of staying here for a while and setting up a trading post. There was plenty of timber, cotton, grain and chocolate beans to be shipped to Spain at a good profit. Much of this obtained, with the help of the chief, by trade with the local villagers. His Lordship was for going back home or at least finding the rest of the convoy whose initial destination was further North. As I hoped the Sergeant took my position plus Henryk who I was grateful to. After much discussion most of the crew wanted to stay having found to their dismay and cost that the only true and reliable navigator, me, was jumping ship. Horse trading followed. The Captain of the Guard and the Carpenter wanted to leave with the ship. I kept the carpenters apprentice and the blacksmith. The rest of the crew drew straws. Some of the locals were press-ganged on board as crew to make up the numbers. When our canopies disappeared as sails on board ship and we were left to the mercy of the sun and rain, a few of the seaman changed their minds. I let them. 

We now had to find a permanent home with shelter. I consulted with Henryk, my carpenter, blacksmith and Sergeant. I was adamant that we build a perimeter fence and log cabins within where we were. Henryk argued strongly that we should move to the abandoned town where we were near to drinking water and we should build a stockade to include the cenote. His powerful arguments won the day particularly that we found that one of the seaman was a stone mason in his former life. I was initially afraid that our ship’s carpenter would be out of his depth building stockades and massive structures since he was a cabinet maker in his past. I shouldn’t have worried.

A rough jetty of timber was built to load the ship with ballast and with products sought locally. Fine timber, bales of cotton, sacks of grain and chocolate beans. We saw the ship off, bound for Lisboan without a shed of a tear. The only dark spot in the ointment was that his Holiness the Priest decided to stay and convert the masses. Led by Henryk, the carpenter and the stone mason the three scoped out our new city in the New World. Someone with no imagination decided to call it Villa Nueva and unfortunately the name stuck. Henryk came back with his team and drew a plan on the sands of the beach for an initial fortified settlement inside the ruins, then a larger fortified town to include the cenote, our essential water supply. I couldn’t hold back their enthusiasm and let them loose as I concentrated on the pirate ship.

I had it dragged out of the water and thoroughly cleaned up. Fortunately the cannon ball had penetrated a neat hole in the hull and my carpenter, or at least his new assistant patched it up and I had a ship of my own. Two weeks later I re-launched it and had it dragged to the jetty where I could check out the sails and the ballast. The chief came to see me with an interesting proposition. His true name was a mouthful that I couldn’t clearly digest so I re-christen him “Lamboga” which was the only part of the name I could comprehend. He seemed happy with that. By now we had three fisherman families flourishing under our protection and Lamboga suggested that we should trade our surplus fish with the city.

 With the help of sand drawings on the beach I came to the understanding that the nearby city, whose people fed us, were short on sea fish and only had meagre freshwater fish from the inlet. If we shipped fresh sea fish to the city we could legitimately trade for grain and other goods. I liked the idea and got Maria involved in the translation. The fishermen agreed and we had a business. All we needed to do was to inform the Lords of the city and I could sail down the inlet with my new ship and sell off the fish in exchange for food and other goods. Seemed too simple but we sent off a messenger who came back next day with good news.

Our first tentative sailing up the inlet was fraught with danger but we had a contingent of guards with crossbow and a couple of muskets. Henryk wouldn’t be left out so he brought his long gun and one of the dogs. Lamboga was forced to come along though he feared for his life. A messenger had been sent ahead and when we arrived at our destination there was a crowd awaiting us on the bank. One of their elders was at hand and described the type of transaction he was happy with. We brought our baskets of catch on shore and he would keep a tally of what was bought and then we would get goods in exchange. It sounded a little risky and unsound to me but I ensured that the elder understood that this would be a trial for the first week. With rope and tackle we transferred our baskets on shore and laid out our catch for inspection and transaction that I didn’t quiet understand but the elder held some kind of an auction for each basket and noted the result on a long sheet of parchment. The abalones created the most commotion. The elder had to fight off the bidders with his wand. 

At the end of the transactions I was informed that we could have so many sacks of grain, beans or bales of cotton. I opted for some of each and we would be back the next day with a bigger catch. The grain had to be milled before converting to bread. Fortunately we had a stone hand-mill from the ship and I set the slave girls onto the task. We now had our own means of making bread. With the fish from the sea, what Henryk hunted down and what we could barter for I concluded we were self sufficient. The next few trips up the inlet were uneventful and we brought back our spoils with glee. I appointed a Captain and crew to do the trading. I was superfluous.

Henryk rushed up and accosted me with great glee and pride. Our new quarters were ready for inspection. I was invited to view and approve. The latter was given, it seemed. I was shown around the new quarters by a conspiratorial group of Henryk, the carpenter and mason. I was impressed with their efforts.

“OK Bosun Sir, what do you think? Do you approve?”

“Good work lads but you have missed some obvious points of running a ship.”

“What Bosun Sir? What have we left out?”

“On a ship we hoi the human waste over the side but here it will accumulate and engulf us.”

“True Bosun Sir. We hadn’t given it a thought.”

“The answer is to provide each dwelling with buckets and we have a daily detail that takes it outside and buries it in a trench.”

“Sorry Bosun Sir but you have a good point and an answer for us.”

“What segregation arrangements have you made?”

“This big hall will be the communal dining room with the stoves at the end. The room at the other end there is exclusively for you Bosun Sir.”

“Very thoughtful and I appreciate it being close to the action. How are we going to eat and what are the domestic arrangements?”

“I’m having a long table made with benches Bosun Sir,” announced the carpenter.

“Are these thatched roofs rain proof?”

“We followed what the fishermen used and they will be adequate for the moment until we find something better,” answered Henryk. “Now the segregation will work like this, I’m assuming we lump the slaves off the pirate ship with the locals. Males will have accommodation in buildings on the Port side, females on the Starboard side. The fisherman with their families will be over in that end. As we grow we will expand on that. The mason has walled up certain passages so that with a few new doors as barriers the place is impregnable. Guards will patrol the outer walls.”

“I’m truly impressed so far. Lets all move in tomorrow. Now what do we do with the pirates?”

“I’m glad you asked that Bosun Sir. They will be shackled and locked up each night in a separate dwelling with a guard. And we have also created an armoury to store weapons.”

“Good. I don’t want weapons too freely available. How much powder have we got?”

“One keg only Bosun Sir. Not enough to keep our cannon going for long.”

“I only intend to use it for its noise and surprise value when necessary.” 

I slung my hammock in my room and felt lonely, all by myself. I went out and found Mita to join me in my room. Over the days and weeks the routine got established. With ship’s bells and whistles, people understood the routine and followed it to establish a clear division of labour. Storage of bales of cotton became a problem until I commandeered a bunch of them and constructed a comfortable mattress to sleep on instead of the hammock. The wood fires were causing too much smoke in the buildings so the blacksmith set about with the help of the locals in making charcoal which answered that particular problem. We were always short of pottery for the table so I got the new ship’s captain to barter for pottery. Then the heavens opened and the water poured in through the thatch. We were into the rainy season and it was becoming unbearable. I called a meeting.

“We need better roofing than thatch. Any suggestions?”

“We haven’t the right splitable stone to make slates around here,” said the mason.

“We need clay and huge kilns to make proper tiles. Where do the locals get clay?” asked the carpenter.

“They get it from the river inlet,” I answered.

“In the mountainous parts of our old country the locals make roofs out of local clay or sticky shale which they press down hard with their bare feet,” said Henryk.

“Yes but here with the heavy rain it will be washed away with the first downfall,” I answered gloomily.

“Not if we protect it. If we put a layer of weave at the base to hold the clay then another layer of weave and more clay and top it of with weave to protect the clay from the rain. That might do it,” answered Henryk. “But where do we get the quantity of clay and cane?”

“The cane is easy,” I answered. “The banks of the inlet are full of it. The ship can collect bundles on the way home and if we need that quantity of clay we can set up our own clay mine on the inlet. The stone mason can think about kilns for pots in the future. Henryk, you have a task. You collect your own help as needed.” 

I lay on my bed with a smug smile on my face. I had chosen well. Hand picked? Well not quiet but a good team. A check on the background of the other seamen and guards should reveal other hidden talents that could be useful to the community. We all see them as ordinary seamen, ready to jump to orders but behind that façade there will be farmers, tradesmen and craftsmen ready to take up their old trades. Must forget about ship and think about village, town and city. Mustn’t forget our local community. Each day we get stragglers wanting to live here. Maria must check the skills of these people and make use of them. That will be my task for tomorrow.

Having had the vivid flashbacks on the ship I decided to continue to review my life further. It was sure to send me to sleep. Having set the rumours in Merida about the dire state of the Duke’s vast holding, I legged it to Lisboan as fast as possible and found a position on a ship bound for the New World. Over the years I did three trans-Atlantic sailings but as a navigator I was required to stay aboard and not to explore the land so my knowledge of the new society and land was meagre. On my last voyage back we were captured by English pirates. I quickly volunteered my services and sent below deck as ordinary seaman. Over the years I served on several English Navy ships where I progressed to the dizzy heights of Bosun, in charge of all the seamen on the ship. I was a big lad with a chest as big as a water keg and a bully to boot. I sorted out all problems with a fist rather than resorting to the cat and grating.

 I did my own navigation, usually confirmed by the officer and a bunch of apprentices or Midshipmen. The Helm would look at me first to get confirmation before he changed course. One day we captured a large Spanish trader bound for Cadiz from the new lands, one of a convoy of four. The Captain, Sir Fredrick Marston was greedy and was about to set chase for a second capture. With a dozen seamen I was tasked with sailing our bounty back to Portsmouth. The only concession I managed was for the Captain to remove the Spanish Officers off the ship on my insistence because with a short crew I was afraid they might take the ship back if they escaped. Sir Fredrick agreed and I was suddenly elevated to Acting Captain.

As we sheared off North I suddenly realised that the Captain must have had prior knowledge of my navigation skills. Usually he appointed a trained officer or a competent Midshipman for the task. Once we were over the horizon I changed course for Lisboan and went to check on the Spanish seaman imprisoned below. I released a dozen to assist in manning the ship. That night I released a further dozen and we took over the ship. The English seaman had the choice of serving me or being imprisoned below. Most of them were used to switching allegiances and agreed to swap sides and serve me. I promised them a share of the bounty. I still kept the majority of the original crew below. I didn’t need a third takeover of the ship and lose my reward.

It was at least ten years since I had been home to Castar. On the way there I stopped overnight at Merida and managed to arrange an interview with the Duke’s secretary. My intelligence told me that the Duke was short of a few coins having spent heavily at court and on some failed enterprises. I bought myself an estate from my bounty money. A fair price I didn’t know but my legal person raised an eyebrow and smiled contentedly which I assumed was good for me. It was the rights to a whole valley and any peons resident there. The deeds were signed off in the name of Captain Carlos de Trevelez and I was now the proud owner of the land where my family resided plus a lot more.

I travelled home alone and didn’t get a much better welcome even when I told them that they were free of any tyranny from the agent and his supervisors. Things had improved slightly but not much. I was now my family’s employer and I set about the job as on a ship. I stopped them going to work for the agent and tried to chivvy them into improving their own lot. They had got used to working at a slow pace, minimising their energy and I couldn’t get them to change. The only way was to get my own supervisor or manager to control my affairs there. I built myself a dwelling as far away as possible from my family and found myself a wife.

 I employed beggars, wanderers, anybody who was willing to do a decent days work for a generous payment of food and a few coins. The first task was to ensure a goodly water supply to the fields and the terraces. I followed and cleared the watercourses first built by the Roman invaders then improved by the Saracens or Muslim men. Then I cleared the land and replanted olive trees, almond and vines. On the lower tilled fields I planted wheat for bread, beans, onions, carrots and pumpkins to feed us all. I kept myself busy for three years or more and felt satisfied with myself especially with the production of a healthy boy, but life was boring on land and my money was running out. I had appointed a manager to run my affairs and so went back to sea to earn some more money. I came back every few years to check things out and was surprised that everything was thriving and miraculously my family had increased by another boy and girl. I didn’t query that. I just let it pass and here am I, settled in this new land acting the Lord of the Manor. I should change my name to Lord Mayor Sir and the local peons would touch their forelocks as they passed. No, this would not pass and I would have to make provisions for my future.

It was at least a year later that in was doing my rounds inside our section and also in the outer compound that was protected by a seven metre wooden stockade that was being constructed to safeguard our water supply. I also provided further space for accommodation for our expanding community when I heard a disturbance near the exit. Two of the pirates were squaring up to each other, one with a flint knife. I didn’t have time to draw my scimitar so I just shoulder charged them and knocked them both flying. The one with the knife got a kick in the head that dazed him and the other I wrenched up by his neck and nearly throttled him when their guards arrived. They told me that these two were on early latrine duty and their guard had only gone off to open the small side gate. I wasn’t having any of this disorder and I needed to set an example especially to the locals in the usual marine way.

I ordered the guards to waken everyone and assemble them in the clearing by the cenote. The Carpenter was to set up a makeshift grating to hold the prisoners. We were going to witness a flogging. The Sergeant, whom I promoted to Captain of the Guard, would do his duty with the cat of nine tails. I told him we needed a good show of our discipline. In front of the assembly, including the fishermen, I read out the charges and the punishment of twenty lashes. The two culprits were already strapped to the gratings and wondered what was going to happen to them. Maria translated and they all fell silent and looked on in awe. At a nod from me the Captain lashed the back of the first pirate before he could steel himself. The blood curdling yell that went up even silenced the baboons. A true mariner would have taken the punishment with true grit and remained silent but our pirate screamed and yelled throughout. The third lash had already drawn blood but his back ended up like raw meat by the end. One of my seamen was prepared and tossed a bucket of salt water over his wounds. 

The second pirate was yelling before the first lash. The demonstration of my stern discipline was better than imagined. The uncustomary yelling added to the effect and I must admit affected me. I left them on the grating with a guard to ward off the flies and allow the blood to congeal. I never enjoyed the experience that was a too common occurrence on the English ships. I still bore the scars on my back. It seemed only slightly more civilised than the sacrificial ceremonies that the locals performed on the holy mounds. At least the poor victim was drugged and the heart sprung out quickly from their chests with a knife or axe as their bodies were stretched over their holy altar or boulder.

I discovered that the disturbance was caused over a woman, one of their captives. I had her brought over to me and she was still in poor shape and in need of feeding up. I also needed to take her out of circulation so I ordered her to work with my cooks and sleep in the kitchen with the others. At least she would be fed better on constant scraps. I made a decision to rid myself of the pirates. I didn’t like having people shackled all the time in the community and I didn’t trust them not to run away or cause trouble. I knew their kind well. I would sell them to the town with the fish. What the town people did with them was their business and I wasn’t going to shed a tear if the worst happened. A week went by after the flogging and I told the Captain of my plan. Over six days the ship took a pair of them to town to be sold as slaves and what a good price they fetched.

Our initial bartering with the town elder in charge made me suspect that we were  being under sold and probably cheated so I checked all the content of the sacks and the bales of cotton for quality. I could tell from the looks of the faces on the cooks that we were getting grain only fit for animals. After a month of trading I suddenly put a stop to the ship sailing up the inlet. Instead we had a feast with the surplus and everybody could eat as much as they wanted rather than keeping them on short rations. A couple of messengers came that evening demanding to know why we had stopped the trade. I showed them the contents of the sacks and bales and they looked on in dismay and embarrassment. I restarted the trade the following day telling our boat people to not discuss the matter though they all knew we were being short changed. Immediately the business was on a different footing so that in a week or so my men could openly check the contents of the sack and bales for quality. We had planted crops but harvest was someway off and I needed the trade to keep my growing population fed.

Oh, I just remembered that I forgot to mention the fate of his holiness the priest. He was a pain and wanted all a sundry to drop their tasks and pray for hours on end. He tried to convert the locals but they quite rightly stayed clear of him. The Captain of the Guard caught him in the act of converting one of his alter boys in an unconventional way. I gave him an ultimatum. He suffers the lash or he goes off to one of the towns. We never saw or heard of him any more. 

I was personally accumulating bales of best cotton to take back home whenever that would be. Whenever a ship might turn up I suppose. I quickly learned that the locals could spin and weave fine cloth and I had a set of shirts and pantaloons made up to my pattern. At least I was looking smart. I gave the weavers a piece of sailcloth and asked them to replicate the thick and strong fabric.  A week later a weaver brought back a range of different grades of cloth for me to inspect. I got my sails man to check them out and he seemed satisfied with the quality we had chosen but we needed it at a greater width for sail making. 

This troubled our weaver and he demonstrated that a lady sitting on the floor using a primitive hand loom could only manage a limited width. Our carpenter came into his own by designing and building a large frame loom which could make sailcloth widths. The weaver, through Maria asked if he and his family could come and live in our community. I welcomed the craftsman with open arms and we had our own source of sail cloth. Instead of buying raw cotton I would also buy long lengths of fine cotton to put away for the day.

A similar thing happened with the cordage. I noticed that the locals used fine quality rope and discovered they manufactured it themselves from the stringy contents of the local cactus. I set up our own cordage business making fine ships cord of varying thickness. The Captain even got our farmers to plant our perimeter with this spiky cactus which he said would make a fine deterrent and also a supply of raw material. The carpenter, Migualo, was building up a good stock of fine timber. I was interested in raw lumber for ship building but him being a true craftsman and cabinet maker, persuaded me to concentrate on the fine hardwoods which would fetch a much higher price back home. Our communal wealth to ship back home was growing but I still needed to build up my personal stock. 

One of our most welcome immigrants was a brewer and his family. He brought his skills to bear immediately and we no longer had to suffer the putrid stuff that we were making. We even commandeered most of our water barrels to brew and hold the resultant liquid.  Our carpenter, Migualo, set about in earnest making more barrels with his extensive team of workers. He was a gem to have around. Not only very witty, he was very competent in every task he tackled from repairing ships, building fishing boats, constructing stockades, furniture and building up stocks of fine timber. With our blacksmith, whom we nicknamed Toledo, they formed an indispensable pair. Our Toledo was a huge man, who could even take me on in a brawl, set up a smithy and using bits of anchor chain which he had kept behind, made door hinges, locks and made up our armoury of cross bows, bolts for the cross bows and spear heads.

 I was conscious of the fact that at some point we would have to protect ourselves. Toledo was an Englishman and since his press-ganging he has served many masters as a ships blacksmith. In his early days of shoeing horses and mending plough shares he was the local longbow champion. His longbow went everywhere with him and he practiced every day. The iron tipped arrow could slice through any metal armour and the local cotton padded armour, which was only protective against the local’s short bow and was easily pierced. Migualo set about making up longbows from local wood. We made up dozens with appropriate flint tipped arrows. Every morning as the field labourers went out to work our Captain had them practice with the longbow, the crossbow and the long spear. Each day, any man who did particularly well in practise got a flagon of beer at the end of the day. Soon we had an army who could handle the basic arms of the trade. Toledo was conserving his iron supply so swords were not manufactured in his forge, only axes and timber saws as essential tools. The local flint studded swords or clubs looked strange but Lamboga demonstrated their effectiveness and stated that a good blow could slice a man in half.

For our entertainment other than seamen’s dice, we had gatherings every evening in the large dining hall, next to my quarters, where the locals would demonstrate their music and dancing whilst Migualo would sing bawdy sea shanties accompanied by Henryk on his violin and Paco on his whistle. In the second year our domestic arrangements had to change with the influx of new people and the desire of our sailors to fraternise with the local girls. Ramon our mason and his gang of labourers were building up a stock of accommodation and our sailors had the first choice to move in with a local girl or two and enjoy some domesticity. There was a plentiful supply of well cut stone from the huge sacrificial mound which we were gradually dismantling through quarrying.  I no longer insisted on communal feeding and set up Lamboga to operate a store and ensure that food rations were given out fairly. 

All the new comers had to have a stint on latrine duty and then on raising water from the cenote; filling up a deposit of fresh water at ground level for daily consumption. Human waste, kitchen waste and ashes were collected every morning and taken out on hand carts out into the fields for burial in trenches. Crops and trees planted on these filled in trenches seem to do better than on normal soil so Manuelo our agricultural expert or at least farm leader, arranged these trenches in some order to maximise our food production. Baboons and animals kept helping themselves to our crops so Manuelo built a living fence or hedge around the plots. Straight branches of a certain type of tree were driven into the ground and lo and behold they rooted and grew. The baboons still got through but we had three crossbow men patrolling the fields and baboon kill was regularly on the menu, supplemented by Henryk’s hunting. Paths to the fields were widened and sanded to take our hand carts to carry waste to the fields and to get to the beach for the fish. The wheel was unknown locally until we introduced it and Migualo had a team of workman making nothing but buckets and handcarts. 

Henryk had appointed Manola as the leader of a team of clay producers and cane gatherers. Down by the inlet they built sets of ponds at differing heights which washed down from one to another. With a series of jibs, buckets of mud and water were drawn from the lagoon and tipped into the ponds where the mud was stirred up with paddles and the fine wash spilled over into the second pond to settle out as clay whilst the coarser sand remained. The third pond collected only the finest clay that was used to make our pots. A little village, a self sufficient community, developed there making clay, building sand for the mason, canes for roofing and cane baskets to carry clay, sand and fish. The ship would call in after its trip to the town delivering fish and collect these products. Henryk would visit regularly to check on progress and supply them with meat. Similarly, abandoned ponds or pans on the beach were resurrected to make essential sea salt. This became an important trade commodity and we extended the salt pans beyond their former size. Our little community on the inlet would again weave large baskets for the salt to drain and dry. Again a self sufficient satellite community developed there on the beach near the jetty where our ship berthed overnight.

By this time I had three cooks who provided me with meals and kept my bed warm. Each evening I provided an evening meal for my key personnel so that we could discuss and organise all the activities of a township. They all turned up because I ensured they had the best of the food provisions and the best of the beer. The only concern we had was the envy of our neighbours who in the past had destroyed this community. The people in the city along the creek were well known to us and we were on good terms through beneficial trade. The other city was some twenty kilometres away and the people were less well known to us. We named these two cities Villa Alto and Villa Baja. Not very original but the names just grew to be acceptable. Every few years the armies or Villa Alto would make incursions on Villa Baja on the lagoon, mainly at festival time to capture men, women and boys for sacrifice to their gods. I was concerned that we would become victims at some point. Henryk who ranged the whole country on his hunting trips and our Captain set up a team of scouts and spies to warn us of any such danger. Mita had a litter of pups and these were being trained up as guard and attack dogs. With their handler they would patrol our perimeters and the dogs could sense any human presence out there.

It was in our third year that one of our scouts came running back with news that the Armies of Villa Alto were attacking and in pitch battle with the troops of Villa Bajo, our trading partners. I took an initial decision to intervene and assist our friends. A Council of War was called and an outline plan was drawn up. I insisted on leading half of our troops out in the field whilst the Captain would protect our township from any surprise attack. I armed my men with cross bows, long bows, axes and spears. I also took the cannon and a couple of charges with bags of stone shot. These loads were slung on long poles to negotiate the narrow path through the jungle to Villa Baja. It would take us about three hours to get there. I sent six scouts ahead with a couple of attack dogs. About two hundred armed men followed divided into two troops. Being in command I positioned myself in the middle with the bombardiers following on behind. I also brought all the attack dogs. Mita had delivered another large litter.

We trotted quickly along the narrow and winding paths through the jungle, occasionally coming across a clearing. We could hear the battle drums in the distance and the baboons screaming in competition. As we neared the town a scout came back with news that they had come across a command post in a clearing ahead with about fifty prisoners lashed by their necks to poles, some fifteen guarding soldiers and about twenty civilians. I sent Henryk with a band to encircle this command post and at a signal we would attack with our dogs in the lead. A shot was fired and we rushed forward with the mastiffs barking wildly. The attack from all fronts took the enemy by surprise and the soldiers quickly surrendered and dropped their arms especially when the snarling dogs knocked them over.

 I checked our prisoners and found that we had captured an important General and his staff, fifteen soldiers and a handful of disgusting shaman priests in their blood congealed cloaks and filthy hair. They stank so much that they made me wretch. I had them tied to poles by their necks and left them behind. There were some civilian cooks and servants and with the enemy soldiers we tied them all up to poles as slaves. The Baja captured soldiers were released and rearmed. Our army had increased by sixty or so. I put Lamboga in charge of the locals and positioned them at the rear to escort our new string of prisoners along with us. I didn’t want to leave them to escape and raise the alarm of our coming.

The local armies campaigned with pitch battles with both sides facing each other and battling it out hand to hand. It looked gruesome but the intention of the attackers from Villa Alto was to capture as many prisoners as possible rather than kill. The Baja soldiers had no such compunction and fought bravely though massively outnumbered. Having assessed the situation and discussed my plan with Henryk we had our troops, apart from our bombardiers, to filter into the jungle on the left flank of the battle. There was little point in a full frontal attack. Lamboga wanted to do battle immediately but I held back. I wanted both sides to do severe damage to each other and weaken themselves before we intervened. Strings of prisoners were being led off and I ordered Henryk and Lamboga to ambush and recapture these once they got into the jungle. The released soldiers would strengthen Lamboga’s troop.

 The plan was simple. Once in position, hidden at the edge of the jungle, the bombardiers would fire the cannon of shot into the centre of the battle which would be our signal to start the attack. Our longbow men would fire a volley of arrow at the unprotected backs of the attackers and Lamboga would lead his troops in a charge and we would follow. My plan was that this surprise attack from the rear would disrupt the battle and strengthen the resolve of the defenders. 

The cannon spewed its load of stones with a huge roar and our troops attacked with a huge shout, banging of weapons on shields and barking of our dogs. The attack on the left flank crumbled and we got the defenders to swing about and almost surround the attackers from Alto. I ensured that we left them room to escape. Their numbers were too great to continue the battle. In the disorder the Alto army disintegrated and their commanders pulled their troops back to reform but once the soldiers were in the jungle they melted away. I had my men round up the stragglers and we quickly set off back to our town. I didn’t want to take part in any celebration. I was more intent of ensuring that our homes were safe. Apart from the prisoners from the command post we captured another fifty or so and drove them all back to our town. I left Lamboga and his men to clear up the aftermath of battle. What I did insist on was that my men collected up any fallen weapons to stock up our armoury. We arrived home in great spirits particularly since we hadn’t lost any men and apart from some minor injuries we were in great shape. The brunt of the battle had been taken by Lamboga’s local troops in their frontal assault.

With the help of Maria I managed to find that we had captured the main General at his command post with his advisors and that’s why the Alto army had capitulated so easily. They weren’t getting orders through from their Commander. I decided to keep the General under house arrest, with his two servants. The filthy Shaman priests were cleaned up, heads shaved, set to work on latrine duty and raising water. A spell of that for a week or two would rid them of their fat bellies. We had captured about a hundred soldiers in total, their weapons and their cotton wadding armour. I left them shackled for a couple of days without food and water and then they were employed on hard labour, carrying cut blocks of stone from the pyramid to the two gates. The mason, Ramon, was tasked with building a couple of stone gatehouses and keeps to strengthen our stockade. These were on the Musliman design of a crooked entrance passage. There was plenty of fine stone to be quarried and slave labour to be occupied. I sent a messenger to the Lord of Villa Alto that we had captured their General and were keeping him in custody. The message came back that they would exchange him for fifty slaves. I replied that we would keep him for six month and release him if he had no trouble from Villa Alto and that they should start trading with us. This would allow me time to strengthen our defences. 

It was in the middle of our fourth year that our lookouts spied a ship on the horizon. We lit smoky fires on the two mounds on the coast and I sailed our little ship out through the reef, flying a Spanish flag. We led the ship back through the reef and anchored her next to our jetty. The ship’s crew were in poor shape mainly caused by the extra short rations ordered by the well known harsh Captain, Elvarez of Burgos. It took two weeks of careful feeding and care to get them back into shape. The ship had brought many domestic animals but most had died on the journey. The only survivors was a cockerel and a sow. They also brought a lot of iron tools, mainly saws and axes since the Spanish Crown wanted to build up its navy. We already had more than a ship full of fine hardwoods apart from other valuable cargoes of cotton, cordage, sailcloth, dried fish, salt and sacks of cereal. It took some time to convince our Captain Alverez that the fine hardwoods for cabinet making were worth ten times that of ships lumber but finally greed won over.

I also got three letters from home, one from my family written by a scripter. I left that to the last. My farm manager informed me that they had a couple of poor harvests and would need further funds to invest.  My agent in Merida was asking for more funds and my main agent in Lisboan who would be handling my personal imports was looking forward to handle my next consignment. I was aware that my agents would rob me blind but that was the nature of life. The begging letter from my family was full of woe but I detected in their rambles that life wasn’t that bad now that they were living under my wing. One of their complaints was that they could only afford meat and bacallao, salt cod, only three times a week, that’s three times more when they worked for the estate. 

We loaded up the ship with cargo and the Spanish residents sent back their own personal goods to their agents in Lisboan, knowing that only a fraction would get to their families. I sent ten bales of raw cotton which appeared rather meagre but secreted inside were bolts of finest white cotton, rolls of sailcloth and reels of ship’s cordage. Half of that would go as taxes to the crown but I hoped the meagre remainder after the agent took their cut would keep my estate afloat. I sent a message to my Lisboan agent that I intended to return with huge wealth and that if he disposed of my current cargo effectively without too much greed then I would retain him to handle my main cargo. It was a poor attempt at getting a better value but one never knew how generous the agents could be.

I had no intention of sailing back with our notorious Captain Alverez and only one other seaman volunteered to go home on his ship. I later heard that he died of ship’s illness which was an acronym for ill treatment. Alvorez allowed two of the weakest seamen to remain and he took six natives. We were glad to see the back of him. At least he was a good seaman and navigator and would get our personal cargoes back to our homes.

Life continued as before. The township got larger, I begat six children with three native women, the magnificent stone gateways were built and Ramon was in the process of extending the stone walls replacing the timber stockade. Apart from a few skirmishes with pirates, all was nice and cosy. The Captain and his men kept strict discipline. We no longer used the threat of the flogging but that had been firmly installed in the local legends, instead we used the threat of expulsion, sold as slaves to the cities for eventual sacrifice. Few citizens chose that route and only captured pirates were directed that way.

The Spanish cockerel came into its own and improved the quality and stock of our native chickens. The sow was more difficult. We put her to a boar but instead of amorous courtship they set about each other. I had delicious pork chops that evening for supper. By now we were self sufficient in food having cleared vast amounts of land for agriculture. Our iron saws and axes were a great improvement on the stone tools used by the natives. We had huge fields of food crops, orchards of fruits, cocoa and plantations of cotton and the agave cactus plant for cordage. Our good use of the increasing amounts of human waste ensured that our crops grew well. Henryk and his hunter scouts were now ranging farther and farther afield as he explored this vast land of jungle, swamps and mountains. An urgent messenger came back to tell me that a party of rich travellers from a far off city were making their rounds and collecting tribute. They had been informed of our apparent wealth and were sure to show up at our gates. I wasn’t going to kow-tow to some foreigner. We respected and served our King of Spain. I thought up our response.

I put on a good show for our so called guests. They were piped in through the gate leading from Villa Baja where they had collected their tributes consisting of thirty men bearing huge bales and some ten comely maidens. They were all welcomed with the streets lined with people throwing flowers and garlands at them. They were bemused by their welcome. There was a party of three fat officials carried on sedan chairs, a guard of ten and various cooks and servants. I welcomed them into our spacious hall where the table was laden with delicacies of all kinds and flagons of our best beer. My cooks had surpassed themselves to their utter disapproval and disgust. Our guests were led into my now sumptuous quarters and allowed to rest and clean up.      

They helped themselves to the banquet and then I invited them to our Court Chamber where we now held our official meetings. Lamboga had translated for me at their reception although by now I could manage on my own with the local language and we were all decked out in out best finery. I carried my jewel encrusted scimitar tucked in my red sash waist band and a fine pistol slung in a leather pouch across my chest. I sat on a large chair. Slightly raised and the three officials sat on sumptuously padded red chairs opposite me but slightly lower; behind them stood a guard of four of their men with spears. I had a guard of Henryk with his musket, and three crossbow men, all looking smart and resplendent. I had Maria standing next to me for the translation. My glorious scimitar with its blade slightly exposed to display the rich Toledo steel was placed on the table before me plus my engraved and richly encrusted pistol, fully loaded with a charge. These I had liberated from the sea chest of my Capitain, the Lord Antonio of Navarra before the ship departed for home. The three visitors couldn’t keep their envious eyes off this display of arms and continued discussing this apparent wealth with greedy eyes for some time until I held up my hand and called for silence.

I made a long speech of welcome and never smiled so much in my life. At the end of my diatribe I thanked them profusely for their gifts they had brought and that they must be rich and generous people and it was a shame that they hadn’t visited before. After Maria translated this with a grave face, having warned her before of what I was going to say, the three fat officials nearly choked on their abalone and started to rave and shout amongst themselves and then at me. I brought this ranting to a close by firing my pistol up into the ceiling. The noise frightened them rigid, especially when chunks of clay plaster came falling down. I repeated my message of thanks for their gifts to which they were totally perplexed and they started again with the ravings. I made a great show of cocking my pistol, cocking back the hammer and pointing it at them.  This silenced them immediately and I noticed beads of sweat on their brows. Their guards didn’t know what to make of this and stood at attention awaiting orders. I banged the butt of my pistol on the table as a gavel which was the sign for my men to burst in and seize the four guards. The other guards apart from two were already too intoxicated to care.

I had one more trick up my sleeve. The two chosen guards had been enticed away by maidens and kept sober for a task I had for them. They were called in and on my prompting the head official, on the pain of instant death, ordered them to rush forth to Villa Alto and divert their convoy of tributes via Villa Nova. The guards were quickly sent off with five of our men to guide them. I didn’t expect that ploy to succeed but by the end of the day a large convoy of men and maidens arrived, the men each carrying a huge bale of fine goods. I had all the people and soldiers impounded, the officials separated, stripped of their finery and the bales put in my quarters. I wanted to be the first to check them out. I didn’t doubt that there would be repercussions at a later stage but as an envoy of the King of Spain, I was the one expecting tributes not handing them out.

It was about two years later that one of Henryk’s scouts came with disturbing message, confirmed by spies from Villa Alto, that a big city far to the West was recruiting a large army of thousands to invade some region. We hoped that we weren’t the target but accompanied by the Captain I started assessing our defences.  Miguelo built a series of catapults which could at least fling our plentiful supply of rocks over our walls. We were certainly not planning to meet our enemy in a pitch battle. We would have to face a lengthy siege and we made preparations for that. Henryk sent out further scouts farther afield to spy on this city and its preparations. I talked at length with Lamboga and the General about local tactics in warfare. The General is the one we captured and held under house arrest. After some months he decided to stay with us since he had lost face in the last battle and honour would force him to offer himself up for sacrifice. He wasn’t going to test his popularity so stayed and became a useful member

The General told us that this city would likely raise an army of tens of thousands to fully engulf and overcome its enemies. That sounded frightening until I explored the logistics of all of this. How does an army of this size move through the narrow paths of the jungle and how does it feed and supply itself with food on the journey and with weapons. The General recounted past encounters of similar size when he was recruited to fight for this city during invasions further to the West. It took more than five days for the army to leave the city in single file along the jungle paths and the soldiers carried their own provisions for five days. The soldiers at the rear were unarmed and expected to pick up weapons from the dead and the captured.

Encampments were set up along the way in clearings with cenotes to the provide water. Scouts would be sent out ahead to check and mark out the routes for the main army to follow.  When they reached the destination they would form up in battalions and invite the opposing city to either surrender or come and do battle. Most cities surrendered and they would be stripped of all stores and male and female prisoners or slaves, many ending up spilling their hearts and lungs on the sacrificial mound. The local natives were a blood thirsty lot.

The scouts that Henryk had sent, returned in a hurry informing us of the dreaded news that this army was preparing to head Eastwards in our direction. I held a War Council with the Generals of Villa Alto and Villa Baja and Henryk outlined our first lines of defence which was to slow down the advance of this huge army. I calculated that it would take at least ten days for the advance party to reach us and another five days for the battalions of strength to form up outside our cities. If we could delay them by five days or more in the jungle paths then they would have serious logistics problems with their supplies of food and water. The Generals, not used to this type of guerrilla warfare gave the thumbs down and went off to prepare their own armies. I supplied Henryk with a hundred warriors, fully armed and sent him off to harry the enemy scouts and delay their information getting back to their main force.

 Two hundred labourers, armed only with saws and axes, were sent off to fell trees and block off the jungle paths. Miguelo was sent off with another army of workers to construct a stockade where the main path led into a clearing. We needed this barrier to form our last stand which would hopefully dishearten the enemy and get them to abandon this expedition. Broken rock and stones were positioned on the top of all of our walls and teams chosen to man and practise with the catapults. A steep sided moat was dug around our walls though the General was sceptical that this would deter the enemy. They would simply fill the ditch with bodies, their own soldiers as a bridge and walk straight over them. I must admit I was worried but didn’t want to show it.

I later found out that Henryk and his men did a tremendous job out there in the jungle. He sought out the advance parties and the scouts and ambushed them. The advance party would cut notches in the trees to mark the best paths. Henryk masked these marks with vines and would cut other notches to lead the following scouts and advance parties in the wrong direction. Confusion was his game and this paid off handsomely as our wood cutters blocked the main paths with fallen trees. As the days advanced more news was coming from our advance scouts that the main force was making its way forward and would soon be approaching our blocked paths. Henryk asked for more crossbow men and quicklime to spill into the cenotes to poison the water supplies.

As the advance party approached the blockages they were halted whilst messages were sent back to send wood cutters to clear the way. Meanwhile the scouts would squeeze through the fallen logs and branches to be picked off by the crossbows of Henryk’s men. The iron crossbow bolts were limited in number and could not be left behind so the dead or dying soldier’s chest would be cut open with an axe and the bolt freed for further use plus they collected any fallen weapons and sent them back. Henryk then strung the butchered bodies up on trees to provide a gruesome sight for the advancing army. Our guerrilla force retreated and set up further killing fields at the next blockage. We only found out later that instead of chopping and clearing the blockages the enemy Generals ordered the leading men lay down to form ramps for the advancing army to march over. I don’t know how many died in this way but we calculated thousands, far more than we killed in our various ambushes. When the advancing army reached a clearing or cenote they would set up camp and feeding stations for the night, only for their advance guards. The others would rest along the jungle paths. Henryk’s men would harass these encampments with frequent volley of arrows and spearing their sentries.

The slowly advancing army was some five days out when they reached the clearing blocked off by our timber stockade which I would hope would finally stop their advance altogether. I was disappointed. By now we had many of our forces out there in the clearing ready to face the large scale battle but not the final assault. We had one of the siege catapults set up ready to fling a good supply of rocks laid by, to lob over the wall. The advance guards set about trying to find a way around this fortress but were easily picked off by our troops as they singly squeezed through the jungle trees on either side. Somehow the main party managed to find a way to scale our wall and soldiers were jumping down from seven metres high to the hard ground below doing great damage to their bodies so that all they could do is to crawl away from the wall. 

Eventually so many injured bodies accumulated on our side that the soldiers could safely jump down onto a pile of bodies and make their way to the ground. Instead of reforming into a large defensive position they charged at us singly and were easily picked off by the crossbows or spears. The catapult was showering the soldiers on the other side of this fence with huge boulders and doing untold damage. We learned later that the advancing Generals built a ramp with live soldiers on their side of the wall for the attackers to climb up and jump over. The ramp collapsed a few times and more soldiers were volunteered for the task of forming the bridge. I would suspect that most of them died in the crush. More and more attackers were making their way over the wall and I called a general retreat back to our town. The catapult had collapsed by now and we dragged the remains to block the path to our town. At this clearing the paths split three ways. The Generals from both Villa Alto and Bajo had followed our example, a little late but blocked their paths with logs. 

This would be the final battle I surmised and set up a plan for our final defence. Henryk and his men continued to harass the advance parties as they filtered through the dense forest. We had our secret weapon, the dogs that could smell out the enemy. The Army encamped for two days to reform before they would split up three ways and make their attack on the towns. Ours was nearest so would be the first in combat. I wondered how the Army managed for food and water. All the cenotes had been poisoned and supplying essential water would have been a logistic nightmare along these narrow jungle paths, many now blocked by human mounds. The advance finally came and we watched the soldiers filtering from the jungle and into our fields that had been cleared of any edible crops. They formed up and we waited for the Generals to cast their ultimatum. A messenger brought the word and we responded with a hail of longbow arrows and a bombardment of rocks from our catapults. I think that worried them because their own native bows and arrows were not powerful enough to penetrate their shields or padded armour. Our arrows sliced through easily and killed and wounded many. We didn’t have an infinite supply of arrows, certainly not enough to handle this huge army.

They advanced and we invited them to come forward by opening our outside gates a fraction. Their advance guard rushed through, one by one, were met by a hail of bone crushing stones from the ramparts. The survivors rushed on and through the zigzag to the second gate which only allowed one soldier at a time to squeeze through. These were easily picked off by our crossbows and spears. From the outside the advance appeared to be going smoothly with hundreds of soldiers filtering through our gates, straight into the killing fields. Bodies were beginning to pile up and I suggested that they start catapulting the bodies over the wall back at the enemy. I inspected some of the dead and they looked in miserable condition. The lack of water and food had weakened them. Our delaying guerrilla tactics had worked so far. As bodies were being flung back over the wall I noticed some hesitation in the attack. Soldiers at the rear were drifting off into the jungle. Commanders were having trouble organising their troops as they were being pelted with bodies, rocks and occasional hail of deadly arrows. One group tried to scale the walls by filling the ditch or dry moat with bodies but they had no scaling ladders or grappling hooks. They tried resting tree trunks against our walls and scaling up them. They stood no chance. Anyone reaching the parapet got speared before they laid hand on the top stone. Our grappling hooks would then pull the trunk aside causing more damage below.

This was going to be a stand off, with us being the final victims as we got tired and they overpowered us with sheer volume of soldiers. In the fading light they finally gave up their attack and retreated back into the jungle, sent packing with a hail of arrows and a blast of our cannon. We only had four charges remaining for the cannon so this gesture was for show. I shouted a prayer from the battlements to all the gods that would deem to hear me. Henryk immediately sent out his scouts who reported that the army was not reforming and that they were making their way back, taking their dead and wounded with them. I didn’t cheer yet but got our men to stand down and a contingent to carry their dead within our precinct out into the open. I had Maria assess our injuries whilst I was doing my rounds encouraging our men to higher things. We had repulsed one attack but I was sure that this would only be the beginning. I was thankfully proved wrong. Maria reported a number of self inflicted injuries to our soldiers, mainly from our tree felling operations but we had got off lightly and I was pleased that our small force had engaged the enemy in some hand to hand fighting, drawn blood and survived. News came from the other towns that the advance had failed to materialise and this vast army was in full retreat. Henryk wanted to give chase but I forbad it. There had been enough loss of life and we were all weary. Next day the bodies outside our fortress had been carried away and when our scouts were sent out they reported that all the dead had been removed and carried off. That was an episode of my life that I didn’t want to repeat and I hoped for a ship to turn up soon and I would be on it to return home.

 

I had to wait another five years for that to happen but I was ready in many ways. I presumed that they would send a fleet not just one ship and they sent five. I had also planned for the fact that some Aristocrat would come and take over from me so I had a small humble dwelling built for myself where I could store my wealth and retreat to when I had to hand over the reins. I had amassed a pile of jewellery, gold and silver from trading and scavenging from rich prisoners that had passed through my hands. It became a custom for newcomers to give me a gift in gratitude for saving them from the sacrificial mound. All my stores were hidden in bales of supposed raw cotton which I would take home with me.

I piloted the ships through the reef and they anchored in the shallow waters and the officers came ashore as our men sent out barrels of fresh water and fresh food to the ships. The flotilla was led by Lord Montoya of Sevilla and I welcomed him and his entourage and led them to my former quarters where I had laid out a sumptuous feast. I had moved out to my hovel. It wasn’t long before the high and mighty started muscling in on my town, ordering my men about as if they were their own peons back in Spain. The only time their eyes lit up was when I showed them the vast supplies of fine timber, cotton goods and cordage I had accumulated to ship back to Spain for his Majesty. There was more than enough to fill the five ships. It was evident that some of the aristos had come to live the good life and develop their own estates in the new lands and I was just as anxious to take their place on the ship and journey back home. Law and order was breaking down in town with the Spanish seamen and marines drinking too much beer and accosting the local women. I had no jurisdiction over them and many of my orders were being countermanded. In the four weeks that it took to load and provision the ships I noticed that many of the locals had quietly left the town. I didn’t blame them. Most of the original Spanish seamen decided to return including Henryk. This would leave the town short of key people. The new hierarchy didn’t notice and were probably glad to have a free hand to rule under, their own terms, once we had left.

We left on the Sunday and I said my farewells to my ten children and their mothers. I had made good provision for them and all had a good and thriving business in town which should keep them well. Because of my navigational skills I was made Second in Command of one of the ships and that was the height of my career. The most important aspect of this position was that I was allowed to keep a greater proportion of my gained wealth even though the Crown still took a large chunk but my apparent wealth was only twenty bales of raw cotton all bound with local cord, not much for fourteen years in the Colonies. As Second in Command I could easily get my bales past His Majesties Custom’s officials with a few bribes. That was what I was counting on and secondly I could keep a close eye on my port agent who had the authority to handle such imports. I wasn’t going to be robbed this time or so I thought.

 It took us a full year to get to Lisboan and my agent and port agent conspired against me and held up my cargo of bales. What’s more they wanted to break them down to inspect their contents to ensure that the goods conformed to the bill of lading. This left me with a major dilemma and possible imprisonment if they discovered my treasure trove inside the bales. I made a fuss and complained to the highest authority in Lisboan claiming that I was in a privileged position being an Officer of the Spanish Navy and having conquered and claimed lands for the Realm.  This cut no ice with the Authorities who were even more determined to impound my bales and those of my companions from the new lands. All the personal cargo was locked up in a small customs warehouse on the dockside and guarded well. The town’s folk were aware of my dilemma and were all intrigued by the rumours of huge amounts of gold stashed away in our bales and were equally eager that the true elements were revealed. 

 I wasn’t to be parted with my hard earned wealth so easily so with the help of my companions we raided the building in the middle of the night by first waylaying and trusting up the guards. We then rolled the bales across the dock to a waiting ship that was to transport them up the coast to a small estuary. We cleared the whole warehouse including other impounded goods for good measure. My trusted Sergeant and four men at arms accompanied the ship to ensure that we weren’t separated from our valuables the second time. The guards were also transported away on the ship on the pretext that they had run off when they found the building on ablaze to avoid blame. The rest of us returned back to our hostelry to continue our merriment as a suitable alibi for our whereabouts that night.  The Skipper of the boat sold on the unfortunate guards to a Galleon crossing to the new Lands for a goodly sum which kept them out of Lisboan for some time. 

The next day we made a great showing of our anger at losing all of our impounded possessions in the blaze and demanded compensation. We started a riot which ransacked my agent’s and the Port Customs main office for good measure. We eventually got some paltry compensation based on our bill of lading and had to retreat with our tails between our legs.   

 It took another couple of months to arrange my affairs, sell a small portion of my goods and make provision for my family and wife, now with four children in Castar. I was a wealthy man but could only release my assets in dribs and drabs. I decided to house myself in a modest palacio in Casares rather than Merida where I was too well known, with a mistress, and as supposed successful investor in shipping plying the great Atlantic Ocean trade. I extended my estates in Castar, now employing over two hundred peons for regular income and lived a good but modest life away from the seas.