The Pirates Own Book (44 page)

Friday, 25th.—Again passed over to those Keys to windward in order to
raft our stuff to our island, it being most convenient for building. But
the surf on the beach was so very rough, that we were again compelled to
postpone it. Our courage, however, did not fail where there was the
slightest hopes of life. Returning without it, we found on our way an
old top timber of some vessel; it had several spikes on it, which we
afterwards found very serviceable. In the hollow of an old tree, we
found two guarnas of small size, one male, the other female. Only one
was caught. After taking off the skin, we judged it weighed a pound and
a half. With some flour and lard, (the only things we had except salt
water,) it made us a fine little mess. We thought it a rare dish, though
a small one for eleven half starved persons. At the same time a small
vessel hove in sight; we made a signal to her with the blanket tied to a
pole and placed it on the highest tree—some took off their white
clothes and waved them in the air, hoping they would come to us; should
they be pirates, they could do no more than kill us, and perhaps would
give us some water, for which we began to suffer most excessively; but,
notwithstanding all our efforts, she took no notice of us.

Saturday, 26th.—This day commenced with moderate weather and smooth
sea; at low tide found some cockles; boiled and eat them, but they were
very painful to the stomach. David Warren had a fit of strangling, with
swelling of the bowels; but soon recovered, and said, "something like
salt rose in his throat and choked him." Most of us then set off for the
Keys, where the plank and shooks were put together in a raft, which we
with pieces of boards paddled over to our island; when we consulted the
best plan, either to build a raft large enough for us all to go on, or a
boat; but the shooks having three or four nails in each, and having a
piece of large reed or bamboo, previously found, of which we made pins,
we concluded to make a boat.

Sunday, 27—Commenced our labor, for which I know we need offer no
apology. We took the two planks, which were about fourteen feet long,
and two and a half wide, and fixed them together for the bottom of the
boat; then with moulds made of palmetto bark, cut timber and knees from
mangrove trees which spread so much as to make the boat four feet wide
at the top, placed them exactly the distance apart of an Havana sugar
box.—Her stern was square and the bows tapered to a peak, making her
form resemble a flat-iron. We proceeded thus far and returned to rest
for the night—but Mr. Bracket was too unwell to get much sleep.

Monday, 28—Went on with the work as fast as possible. Some of the
Spaniards had long knives about them, which proved very useful in
fitting timbers, and a gimblet of mine, accidentally found on board the
pirate, enabled us to use the wooden pins. And now our spirits began to
revive, though
water, water
, was continually in our minds. We now
feared the pirates might possibly come, find out our plan and put us to
death, (although before we had wished to see them, being so much in want
of water.) Our labor was extremely burdensome, and the Spaniards
considerably peevish—but they would often say to me "never mind
captain, by and by, Americana or Spanyola catch them, me go and see 'um
hung." We quitted work for the day, cooked some cakes but found it
necessary to reduce the quantity again, however small before. We found
some herbs on a windward Key, which the Spaniards called Spanish
tea.—This when well boiled we found somewhat palatable, although the
water was very salt. This herb resembles pennyroyal in look and taste,
though not so pungent. In the evening when we were setting round the
fire to keep of the moschetoes, I observed David Warren's eyes shone
like glass. The mate said to him—"David I think you will die before
morning—I think you are struck with death now." I thought so too, and
told him, "I thought it most likely we should all die here soon; but as
some one of us might survive to carry the tidings to our friends, if you
have any thing to say respecting your family, now is the time."—He then
said, "I have a mother in Saco where I belong—she is a second time a
widow—to-morrow if you can spare a scrap of paper and pencil I will
write something." But no tomorrow came to him.—In the course of the
night he had another spell of strangling, and soon after expired,
without much pain and without a groan. He was about twenty-six years
old.—How solemn was this scene to us! Here we beheld the ravages of
death commenced upon us. More than one of us considered death a happy
release. For myself I thought of my wife and children; and wished to
live if God should so order it, though extreme thirst, hunger and
exhaustion had well nigh prostrated my fondest hopes.

Tuesday, 29th.—Part of us recommenced labor on the boat, while myself
and Mr. Bracket went and selected the highest clear spot of sand on the
northern side of the island, where we dug Warren's grave, and boxed it
up with shooks, thinking it would be the most suitable spot for the rest
of us—whose turn would come next, we knew not. At about ten o'clock,
A.M. conveyed the corpse to the grave, followed by us survivers—a
scene, whose awful solemnity can never be painted. We stood around the
grave, and there I read the funeral prayer from the Rev. Mr. Brooks's
Family Prayer Book; and committed the body to the earth; covered it with
some pieces of board and sand, and returned to our labor. One of the
Spaniards, an old man, named Manuel, who was partial to me, and I to
him, made a cross and placed it at the head of the grave saying, "Jesus
Christ hath him now." Although I did not believe in any mysterious
influence of this cross, yet I was perfectly willing it should stand
there. The middle part of the day being very warm, our mouths parched
with thirst, and our spirits so depressed, that we made but little
progress during the remainder of this day, but in the evening were
employed in picking oakum out of the bolt rope taken from the old sail.

Wednesday, 30th.—Returned to labor on the boat with as much vigor as
our weak and debilitated state would admit, but it was a day of trial to
us all; for the Spaniards and we Americans could not well understand
each other's plans, and they being naturally petulant, would not work,
nor listen with any patience for Joseph, our English fellow prisoner, to
explain our views—they would sometimes undo what they had done, and in
a few minutes replace it again; however before night we began to caulk
her seams, by means of pieces of hard mangrove, made in form of a
caulking-iron, and had the satisfaction of seeing her in a form
something like a boat.

Thursday, 31st.—Went on with the work, some at caulking, others at
battening the seams with strips of canvas, and pieces of pine nailed
over, to keep the oakum in. Having found a suitable pole for a mast, the
rest went about making a sail from the one we had used for a covering,
also fitting oars of short pieces of boards, in form of a paddle, tied
on a pole, we having a piece of fishing line brought by one of the
prisoners. Thus, at three P.M. the boat was completed and put
afloat.—We had all this time confidently hoped, that she would be
sufficiently large and strong to carry us all—we made a trial and were
disappointed! This was indeed a severe trial, and the emotions it called
up were not easy to be suppressed. She proved leaky, for we had no
carpenter's yard, or smith's shop to go to.—And now the question was,
"who should go, and how many?" I found it necessary for six; four to
row, one to steer and one to bale. Three of the Spaniards and the
Frenchman claimed the right, as being best acquainted with the nearest
inhabitants; likewise, they had when taken, two boats left at St. Maria,
(about forty miles distant,) which they were confident of finding. They
promised to return within two or three days for the rest of us—I
thought it best to consent—Mr. Bracket it was agreed should go in my
stead, because my papers must accompany me as a necessary protection,
and my men apprehended danger if they were lost. Joseph Baxter (I think
was his name) they wished should go, because he could speak both
languages—leaving Manuel, George, Thomas and myself, to wait their
return. Having thus made all arrangements, and putting up a keg of the
least salt water, with a few pancakes of salt fish, they set off a
little before sunset with our best wishes and prayers for their safety
and return to our relief.—To launch off into the wide ocean, with
strength almost exhausted, and in such a frail boat as this, you will
say was very hazardous, and in truth it was; but what else was left to
us?—Their intention was to touch at the Key where the Exertion was and
if no boat was to be found there, to proceed to St. Maria, and if none
there, to go to Trinidad and send us relief.—But alas! it was the last
time I ever saw them!—Our suffering this day was most acute.

Tuesday, 5th.—About ten o'clock, A.M. discovered a boat drifting by on
the southeastern side of the island about a mile distant. I deemed it a
providential thing to us, and urged Thomas and George trying the raft
for her. They reluctantly consented and set off, but it was nearly three
P.M. when they came up with her—it was the same boat we had built!
Where then was my friend Bracket and those who went with him? Every
appearance was unfavorable.—I hoped that a good Providence had yet
preserved him.—The two men who went for the boat, found it full of
water, without oars, paddle, or sail; being in this condition, and about
three miles to the leeward, the men found it impossible to tow her up,
so left her, and were until eleven o'clock at night getting back with
the raft. They were so exhausted, that had it not been nearly calm, they
could never have returned.

Wednesday, 6th.—This morning was indeed the most gloomy I had ever
experienced.—There appeared hardly a ray of hope that my friend Bracket
could return, seeing the boat was lost. Our provisions nearly gone; our
mouths parched extremely with thirst; our strength wasted; our spirits
broken, and our hopes imprisoned within the circumference of this
desolate island in the midst of an unfrequented ocean; all these things
gave to the scene around us the hue of death. In the midst of this
dreadful despondence, a sail hove in sight bearing the white flag! Our
hopes were raised, of course—but no sooner raised than darkened, by
hearing a gun fired. Here then was another gang of pirates. She soon,
however, came near enough to anchor, and her boat pushed off towards us
with three men in her.—Thinking it now no worse to die by sword than
famine, I walked down immediately to meet them. I knew them not.—A
moment before the boat touched the ground, a man leaped from her bows
and caught me in his arms!
It was Nickola
!—saying, "Do you now
believe Nickola is your friend? yes, said he,
Jamieson
will yet prove
himself so."—No words can express my emotions at this moment. This was
a friend indeed. The reason of my not recognizing them before, was that
they had cut their beards and whiskers. Turning to my fellow-sufferers,
Nickola asked—"Are these all that are left of you? where are the
others?"—At this moment seeing David's grave—"are they dead then? Ah!
I suspected it, I know what you were put here for." As soon as I could
recover myself, I gave him an account of Mr. Bracket and the
others.—"How unfortunate," he said, "they must be lost, or some pirates
have taken them."—"But," he continued, "we have no time to lose; you
had better embark immediately with us, and go where you please, we are
at your service." The other two in the boat were Frenchmen, one named
Lyon, the other Parrikete. They affectionately embraced each of us; then
holding to my mouth the nose of a teakettle, filled with wine, said
"Drink plenty, no hurt you." I drank as much as I judged prudent. They
then gave it to my fellow sufferers—I experienced almost immediate
relief, not feeling it in my head; they had also brought in the boat for
us, a dish of salt beef and potatoes, of which we took a little. Then
sent the boat on board for the other two men, being five in all; who
came ashore, and rejoiced enough was I to see among them Thomas Young,
one of my crew, who was detained on board the Mexican, but had escaped
through Nickola's means; the other a Frenchman, named John Cadedt. I now
thought again and again, with troubled emotion, of my dear friend
Bracket's fate. I took the last piece of paper I had, and wrote with
pencil a few words, informing him (should he come there) that "I and the
rest were safe; that I was not mistaken in the friend in whom I had
placed so much confidence, that he had accomplished my highest
expectations; and that I should go immediately to Trinidad, and
requested him to go there also, and apply to Mr. Isaac W. Lord, my
consignee, for assistance." I put the paper into a junk bottle,
previously found on the beach, put in a stopper, and left it, together
with what little flour remained, a keg of water brought from Nickola's
vessel, and a few other things which I thought might be of service to
him. We then repaired with our friends on board, where we were kindly
treated. She was a sloop from Jamaica, of about twelve tons, with a
cargo of rum and wine, bound to Trinidad. I asked "which way they
intended to go?" They said "to Jamaica if agreeable to me." As I
preferred Trinidad, I told them, "if they would give me the Exertion's
boat which was along-side (beside their own) some water and provisions,
we would take chance in her."—"For perhaps," said I, "you will fare
better at Jamaica, than at Trinidad." After a few minutes consultation,
they said "you are too much exhausted to row the distance of one hundred
miles, therefore we will go and carry you—we consider ourselves at your
service." I expressed a wish to take a look at the Exertion, possibly we
might hear something of Mr. Bracket. Nickola said "very well," so got
under way, and run for her, having a light westerly wind. He then
related to me the manner of their desertion from the pirates; as nearly
as I can recollect his own words, he said, "A few days since, the
pirates took four small vessels, I believe Spaniards; they having but
two officers for the two first, the third fell to me as prize master,
and having an understanding with the three Frenchmen and Thomas,
selected them for my crew, and went on board with orders to follow the
Mexican; which I obeyed. The fourth, the pirates took out all but one
man and bade him also follow their vessel. Now our schooner leaked so
bad, that we left her and in her stead agreed to take this little sloop
(which we are now in) together with the one man. The night being very
dark we all agreed to desert the pirates—altered our course and touched
at St. Maria, where we landed the one man—saw no boats there, could
hear nothing from you, and agreed one and all at the risk of our lives
to come and liberate you if you were alive; knowing, as we did, that you
were put on this Key to perish. On our way we boarded the Exertion,
thinking possibly you might have been there. On board her we found a
sail and paddle. We took one of the pirate's boats which they had left
along-side of her, which proves how we came by two boats. My friend, the
circumstance I am now about to relate, will somewhat astonish you. When
the pirate's boat with Bolidar was sent to the before mentioned Key, on
the 19th of January, it was their intention to leave you prisoners
there, where was nothing but salt water and mangroves, and no
possibility of escape. This was the plan of Baltizar, their abandoned
pilot; but Bolidar's heart failed him, and he objected to it; then,
after a conference, Captain Jonnia ordered you to be put on the little
island from whence we have now taken you. But after this was done, that
night the French and Portuguese part of the Mexican's crew protested
against it; so that Captain Jonnia to satisfy them, sent his large boat
to take you and your fellow prisoners back again, taking care to select
his confidential Spaniards for this errand. And you will believe me they
set off from the Mexican, and after spending about as much time as would
really have taken them to come to you, they returned, and reported they
had been to your island, and landed, and that none of you were there,
somebody having taken you off! This, all my companions here know to be
true.—I knew it was impossible you could have been liberated, and
therefore we determined among ourselves, that should an opportunity
occur we would come and save your lives, as we now have." He then
expressed, as he hitherto had done (and I believe with sincerity), his
disgust with the bad company which he had been in, and looked forward
with anxiety to the day when he might return to his native country. I
advised him to get on board an American vessel, whenever an opportunity
offered, and come to the United States; and on his arrival direct a
letter to me; repeating my earnest desire to make some return for the
disinterested friendship which he had shown toward me. With the
Frenchman I had but little conversation, being unacquainted with the
language.