Fire-ship

Henry Morgan crumpled the letter he just read to his men in his fist. He was enraged when he first saw the contents of it but he would not show that to the buccaneers assembled in the marketplace of Maracaibo. He read it aloud in English and in French, so everyone would understand the demands made by Don Alonzo del Campo y Espinosa.

“What do you think, men?” he shouted above their heads, keeping his fury in check. Let them feel it, not see it, he said to himself. “Don Espinosa says he’ll give us clemency,” he spat out the word, “and let us pass into the Caribbean, if we give up all the spoils we’ve fought so hard for.”

The idea of surrendering their hard-earned gains did not set well with the pirates and the noise coming from the crowd signaled their unrest and displeasure to Henry Morgan.

To tap into their anger, Morgan raised the crumpled letter above his head still clenched tightly in his fist. “If we don’t surrender, he says he will bring the Spanish fleet upon us and destroy us utterly. He will put every man to sword,” he shouted. A few mirthless chuckles could be heard from the mob. “Do we give back what’s rightfully ours and limp out of here like whelps with our tails between our legs?”

“No!” The men shouted in unison followed by more loud grumbles of dissent.

“Do we let Don Espinosa go back to the King of Spain with our treasure, telling his Catholic Majesty how he brought us to bear and claimed victory over us?”

“NO!” The response was deafening. Morgan’s anger cooled into a shrewd burn, calculating and bold. He had whipped the buccaneers into a frenzy of near madness.

“Or do we take our ships, drive the Spaniards to the bottom of the lake and sail back to Port Royal with our gold?”

Cheers rose from the men as well as swords and fists in assent. They had already risked their lives for the treasure and would gladly do it again. Morgan paced calmly back and forth in front of them until the excitement died down.

“Good intentions, men,” the pirate admiral said, “but we’re outnumbered. They have larger ships, more guns and more men. And they have the sea at their back.”

For the first time this morning, since he gathered them together, uncertainty showed on the faces of the men, but it did not replace their determination.

They’re not afraid, Morgan was relieved but not surprised. They’re smart enough to realize that we need a good plan, a very good plan to defeat the Spanish.

A man stepped out of the crowd toward Morgan. “Admiral, sir,” he said in deference to Morgan, but with a slight tremor in his voice. “I know how we can destroy the Magdalena right out from underneath Don Espinosa’s feet and send them both to the bottom of Maracaibo Lake.”

Morgan knew this man Brodely well. He had been a pirate in this part of the world for years before joining Morgan’s fleet.

Brodely laid out his plan and described how he and only twelve pirates would use a fire-ship constructed from one of their prizes to bring down the mighty Spaniards.

“First, we’ll fit her out like a man-of-war with all flags flying,” he said. “Then we put logs standing up on the decks with caps on top of them to make them look like a crew.”

Morgan stroked his thick mustache as he listened with renewed respect for this man.

“For cannons,” Brodely went on, “we’ll use hollow logs sticking out of the ports.” They would fill the hold of the fire-ship with any combustible materials they could find in the city of Maracaibo. They would send it ahead of the pirate fleet straight for the Magdalena with a lit fuse. Once the fire-ship ignited, it would set fire to any other ship it came in contact with or, hoping for favorable winds, just close enough to.

For the lack of any other plan of action, Morgan approved Brodely’s idea. While the fire-ship was being readied, the pirate leader sent a message to Don Espinosa, trying to get some other concession from him. If the Spanish general would allow the buccaneers and their cargo past unmolested into the Caribbean, they would not burn Maracaibo to the ground. They would also give up half their slaves and allow all the hostages go free.

Don Espinosa’s message came back loud and clear. He would not consider any proposal less than his original demands, which if they did not fulfill in two days, he would bring the might of the Spanish fleet down on them and destroy them with fire and sword.

This gave the pirates more resolve and determination to succeed. They swore that they would do everything possible to leave Maracaibo Lake with all their spoils. Morgan ordered the hostages and even the slaves who fetched water and did odd jobs locked up and well-guarded. The pirates took it upon themselves to do all the work.

The fire-ship was quickly being prepared. They filled the hold with all the combustibles they found in the city along with palm leaves, dipped in a mixture of pitch, tar and brimstone. The fake cannons were covered with the same concoction and six pots of gunpowder placed under each one.

Then they sawed up half of the woodwork inside the vessel. When the gunpowder blew up, the explosions would have a greater force, burn more fiercely and do far more damage. With the fake crew on deck and new portholes cut into the sides, the fire-ship was ready.

Henry Morgan ordered the flags to be raised.

The buccaneers put the most important women hostages into one barque with the plunder. The rest of the prisoners were herded into another and both were guarded by twelve pirates, armed to the teeth.

Morgan sent Brodely and his men in the fire-ship ahead of the fleet. The current, if favorable, would take it to the Spanish man-of-war. If this maneuver failed, Morgan would attack the Spaniard himself with his flagship. He ordered another vessel with kindled rope smoldering on deck to sail behind him to fool the enemy into thinking that was a fire-ship, too.

The pirates set out for the mouth of Maracaibo Lake. Spirits were high but nerves were raw. Morgan sensed the anxiety among his men and pitied the Spaniards.

The sun set over the western mountains of Venezuela as the Spanish men-of-war came into view, sitting in the middle of the channel that was the pirates escape. Too late to engage them, Morgan knew. He dropped anchor just outside of cannon range and recalled Brodely and his crew from the fire-ship.

That evening he rallied the men. They took an oath that the buccaneers would stand by one another to the last drop of blood. Never would they give quarter nor cry for any. They would fight the enemy with cutlass and gun to the last man standing. Those who were brave, courageous and showed extraordinary valor would be richly rewarded.

The pirates sand and drank toasts to King Charles, but the rum had nearly run dry. No one had more than his allotted share.

No, Morgan told them. They would need their wits about them come morning. If successful, they would continue to Port Royal and buy all the rum they could drink. If not, it would not matter.

Morgan ordered a watch on the Spaniards throughout the night, just as he knew they would keep vigil on the pirates. He returned to his cabin but slept fitfully. Few times in his career had the situation been so dire. Rarely had the odds been stacked against him.

He rose before dawn, unrested but alert with nervous energy.

Brodely and his dozen men lit the fuse on the fire-ship and set her asail with the ebb tide.

The Spaniards were ready as the first of the buccaneer ships came into their nest. Don Espinosa and his crew waited anxiously as the strange vessel came nearer.

A stray thought entered the general’s mind. How odd that no shots or cannons had been fired yet. The pirate crew seemed strangely stoic.

Just then the sun peeked over the eastern mountains and illuminated the horror of the situation to the Spaniards.

Fire-ship!

Wooden vessels could survive broadsides from enemy cannons or hurricanes at sea, but fire was the worst catastrophe by far. As the danger came along side, the general ordered his men over the railing onto its decks.

“Cut down her masts!” he shouted, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “Push her away and let the tide carry her out!”

The Spanish crew scrambled over the sides in a frantic hurry. The pirates had calculated expertly the length of the fuses and the time it would take to bring the fire-ship next to her victims. Down in the hold, the smoldering fuses reached the gunpowder.

The explosion was ear-splitting. A huge fireball erupted from below, sending deadly wooden missiles, combustible material aflame, and the bodies of men into the air. The force of the detonation knocked every man still on board the Magdalena flat, searing their skin with incredible heat. Smoking debris caught in the man-of-war’s sails and fell upon the decks. Fires ignited everywhere.

The Spanish general recovered and scrambled to his feet. The mighty Magdalena had become a hell on the water. Fires spread, belching forth thick black smoke.

“Abandon ship!” He screamed. There was no hope for the man-of-war.

The commander of the second Spanish ship watched helplessly in horror at the amazing speed the conflagration consumed the Magdalena. He ordered his vessel about to head for the shore. There they would be safe under the artillery of the Spanish fort guarding the lake. Morgan’s flagship bore down on them.

Seconds later, the crew heard the sickening scrape of the hull running around too far out in the lake to be protected by the fort. The commander shouted a curse. An underwater shoal that wasn’t marked down on any chart had doomed them. There wasn’t enough time to free the man-of-war.

He ordered the crew to abandon ship but to take anything they could to leave the pirates nothing. In the longboats and canoes, they could easily reach the safety of the fort before being over-run. The commander delivered one final insult to the marauders and set the ship on fire. This band of scum would get no treasure from her.

A third Spanish ship saw the Magdalena engulfed in flames and the second ship turn for shore. The commander recognized the second man-of-war’s maneuver and decided to follow suit. He discovered too late that the ebb tide and the morning breeze were both working against him.

He ordered full sail. Men scrambled up the rigging like spiders on webs to unfurl the sheets. The pilot shouted and pointed over the commander’s shoulder. He turned to follow the direction of his man’s concern.

One of the pirate ships was closing the gap between them rapidly.

The commander froze in terror. He had enjoyed a stellar career but never in combat against buccaneers as crazed or determined as these. He panicked and his crew with him. No order to abandon ship was given but the men leaped over the sides into long boats, canoes and even the blue waters of the lake.

On his flagship, Morgan watched with growing satisfaction. His men had hardly fired a shot yet in less than three hours, they had destroyed two Spanish men-of-war and captured a third. Not one pirate had been killed. The barques carrying the prisoners and the treasure came up through the middle of the pirate fleet just as he ordered. Together they slipped past the burning hulls of the first two Spaniards and into the channel. The captured Spanish prize fell in with him and the rest of the fleet.

As they sailed past the fort, safely outside the reach of her guns, Morgan raised his hand and gave the Spaniards a farewell wave.