The Ballad of John Bach



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Chapter 1

   “Well, this is a fine kettle of fish, John.”  He said to himself as he stared down at the pile of putrid, mostly dead crabs in his bunk.  John wondered if he would laugh about this later.  The ship suddenly pitched and he grabbed the edge of the small desk.  He took a deep breath and was rewarded only with the odor of the decaying crustaceans.  John clenched his jaw and willed the nausea to subside.  Sitting down, he removed a journal from a black lacquer box, dipped his quill in the ink pot and began to write.



   June 12, 1887

   Land ho!
   In the distance I see palm trees and beaches with little rocky outcroppings.  When I pressed, the captain gruffly admitted we had “an errand” to run.  An errand?  In the West Indies?  Whaling waters were far north, this seemed unreasonably out of our way.


   Another ship is sailing fairly close to us.  The crew seems on edge.  I overheard the younger men talking in hushed tones when they did not see me.  The other ship is Spanish and is owned by a merchant who is returning to the islands to buy goods for Spain and Portugal.  Why would they care?  I have little hope of scaling the insurmountable walls put up by the crewmen.  Teaching them to read is more of a challenge than I had anticipated. 


   Then, there is Captain Evers.  I understand why he was not forthright about the occupation of this ship.  Whaling, while gruesome, is honest work.  My better judgement tells me this is a ship of ill-repute.  Nevertheless, I pledged to teach this crew to read and I intend to keep my word. 

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    John could hear the crew outside his small cabin door.  It was almost supper, so he put his journal back in the box and tucked Lillie’s photograph in his left breast pocket.  She would never believe this story, if he ever made it back to Boston to tell her.  The men started mocking one of the younger deck hands which made John hesitate before he opened the door.

    “Black Bette will ‘ave yer ears, Jeremy!”  one of the older crewmen taunted and he slapped a young boy on the back.  “You think Cap’n Evers is ruthless, well no one lives to tell of Bette.   She’d just as soon run ya through as look at ya.  Keep yer eyes out for the crimson Phoenix flag, boy.  She’s after the same treasure as Evers, I’d bet my life we’ll see her before the week’s out.”

     Wait now…treasure?  John’s mind began to race, putting the pieces together and he didn’t like what he saw.  The men dispersed when the first mate hollered at them to get back to work, so John took the opportunity to exit his cabin.

     While he sat across the table from the captain during dinner, John fought with himself to demand an answer about what the Sam Hill we were doing so far south.  Of course, he had gleaned enough information while eavesdropping to conclude the matter.  So, deciding it was safer to play along, John quietly dismissed himself from the table and retired to his bunk.  He would figure all this out in the morning.

     A few hours later, John was awakened by a fist pounding powerfully on the cabin door.  He thought for sure it would splinter off its hinges.  Cautiously, he got out of bed and stood at the door and tried to sound confident.   “Who is it?!  What do you want with me at this ungodly hour, man?!”

“Man?  I am no man.  Gratefully, God did not curse me so.”  A woman laughed from the other side of the hatch.

    John reached for the bolt and then paused.  Not seeing a way past this, he guardedly opened the door.  John stood eye to eye with a woman, statuesque in presence.  She wore the attire expected of a man and her black hair was cropped at the shoulders.  This fact did not diminish the bewitching aura she radiated.

“Well, well…who do we have here, boys?”  The woman tilted her head to one side as if she was deciphering a riddle.  “Speak up, I cannot hear you.”
“I, uh…John, I’m John.”  John silently cursed himself for stammering.
“So, John…” Leveling her dark gaze on him, the words dripping from her smirking lips.  “Pray-tell your business on this ship, you are no pirate.”
“Captain!  ‘ave a look ‘ere!”

    The woman abandoned her interrogation of John and went to investigate what her crew had found.  “That’s it, we’ve got it, boys!  Lock the captain up in my brig.  Then, lash the crew underdeck and scuttle the ship.”  She deftly rolled up the piece of parchment she had been examining and stashed it inside her coat.
Black Bette turned her attention back to John.  “But bring the dry-lander, he amuses me.”

    John had never felt so unnerved.  A man he could decode, perhaps relate to on some level.  But, this woman, she was a force to be reckoned with…and he could feel a reckoning was upon him.




Comments

  1. I love this story! I hope you write more. :)

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  2. You SHOULD be a writer.... you ARE a writer and a very talented one. Love you're imagination.

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  3. Love it Nik! Great story! I need more, lol....TBC perhaps?
    (This is Rubbish to Rubies on YT btw)

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  4. This sounds like books I have read where the entirely unsuited couple walk a fine line between love and hate, ending with a passionate love affair that spans a lifetime, except the hero of the tale is already betrothed. Come to think of it, that's been in a few of the tales!

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    Replies
    1. hi Rebecca! Not in this tale, that would be way too predictable. I'm not a Nicholas Spark kind of writer ;)

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  5. Lol....i've written three pirate historical fictions so this really touches my special spot!!! Well done, mate

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