A Tall Ship, A Star, and Plunder

Hello! Last summer I made my first professional sale to an anthology of pirate fiction stories. Well, the book is now available in print or in an ebook format!

The title is: A Tall Ship, A Star, and Plunder, and is edited by Robert Krog. The title of my story is "Rosa and the Pirate."

Please keep in mind when reading that the authors were asked to keep the stories suitable for families.

So if you enjoy pirate stories and want to read a whole bookful, please go and buy the anthology!

 

The Unknown Survivor

Part Two

 

Here I wish to continue to share stories from Cape Cod folklore concerning the possibility that there was a third survivor of the wreck of the Whydah Galley in April of 1717.

 

This story is from: A Collection of American Epitaphs and Inscriptions With Occasional Notes (Vol. IV). [Timothy Alden (Seymour, etc]. 1814.

 

[p. 22] One of the Most remarkable shipwrecks on Cape Cod, in former times, was that of the WHIDO, carrying twenty-three guns and on hundred and thirty men, commanded by Samuel Bellamy, a noted pirate. This happened on the 26 of April, 1717, on the outer shore of Wellfleet.

Bellamy had taken a number of vessels, on the coast. Seven of his men were put on board one of these, who soon became intoxicated, went in to a sound sleep, and when they awoke, found themselves, very unexpectedly, in Cape Cod harbour. Five of them escaped from the master of the vessel, who brought them in, and Captain Cyprian Southack, by order of the government of Massachusetts, was sent in search of them.

The Whido, soon after, was overtaken by a violent storm and was dashed to pieces near the table land of Wellfleet, where every one, except two, perished in the waves.

 

Captain Southack arrived at Wellfleet just after the sea had forced its way across the Cape and made such a channel that he passed through in a whale boat! This channel was soon closed, and has, ever since, been kept so, by the attention of the inhabitants or, it is probable, twenty or thirty miles of the extremity of this wonderful arm of land would, long before this time, have been washed away.

Captain Southack found and buried the bodies of one hundred and two pirates, which after the storm, lay along the shore, of those captured, and six were tried by a special court of admiralty, convicted, and executed at Boston.

From the clearness of the water and the whiteness of the sandy bottom, objects are seen from a great depth in the region, where Bellamy's crew perished. Even to this day, the great caboose of the Whido is sometime discovered as the loose sand, in which it is imbedded, is shifted from place to place by the agitations of the sea.

Some of the coppers, made in the region of William and Mary, and specimens of cob dollars, belonging to the pirate ship, are, occasionally, still found on the beach.

 

For many years after this shipwreck, a man, of a very singular and frightful aspect, used, every spring and autumn, to be seen traveling on the Cape, who was supposed to have been one of Bellamy's crew. The presumption is that he went to some place where money had been secreted by the pirates to get such a supply as his exigencies required. When he died many pieces of gold were found in a girdle which he constantly wore. Aged people relate that this man frequently spent the night in private houses, and that, whenever, the Bible or any religious book was read, or any family devotion performed, he invariably left the room. This is not improbable. It is also stated that, during the night, it would seem as if he had in his chamber a legion from the lower world; for much conversation was often overheard which was boisterous, profane, blasphemous, and quarrelsome in the extreme. This is the representation. The probability is, that his sleep was disturbed by a recollection of the murderous scenes in which he had been engaged, and that he, involuntarily vented such exclamations as, with the aid of an imagination awake to wonders from the invisible regions, gave rise, in those days, to the current opinion that his bed chamber was the resort of infernals.

 

John Julian's words

They came unexpectedly, unannounced. There was a group of them. The prisoners could hear their footsteps and the rattle of chains as they came.

They did not stand on ceremony. There was no wasted motion or unnecessary talk as they opened the cage and converged on one of them.

 

While some of them took up guard-like positions to prevent the others from interfering, three of them grabbed John by the arms and hauled him to his feet.

 

“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?” he hollered. He tried to fight them off, but he was weak from months on a bread and water diet and confinement. Plus they were grown men. He was but an adolescent.

There was ugly laughter in response to his questions.

 

“You're being sold, Indian,” one of them replied, as he caught up John's arms and tied them behind his back.

 

“No! No! I am a man! I am free! I am a man!” John protested, his voice rising in pitch as his desperation grew.

 

He tried to fight, tried to kick and maneuver his body out of their grasp. The men cursed and hit him with the chains.

 

But it was no use. On the other side of the cage his friends shouted and protested, but they too were too weak to fight effectively and were easily beaten back with sticks and more chains.

 

The three men got a firm grip on John, forcing him forward while he continued trying to kick and throw them off. They had to go through the door one at a time, and John nearly succeeded in breaking their grip. Something thudded over the back of his head, and he knew no more.

 

Sometime later, he didn't know exactly how much, he found himself in another cage, but now he was chained down. There were a few others in the cage, all with black or darker skin like him.

 

In the distance he heard voices and shouting. Periodically men would come to the cage and take someone out. They would not return.

 

When they came for John he tried to struggle again, but they were simply too many and too strong for him.

 

He was taken into another room. This one was crowded with mostly men. He was led to a clear area.

 

He continued to struggle, and so one of the men finally shoved his stick under John's chin to force him to hold his head up while pinioning his arms behind him. Some remarks were made about a lively young Indian male, and a few bids were shouted out.

 

A non-pirate non-fiction story for your enjoyment

My Adversarial Relationship with my Christmas tree.

By Laura Nelson

            My first two Christmas trees were my parent’s cast-offs. The first one was a saggy, tired thing that had been in the family since I was a girl. I have only vague memories of our previous trees. I was actually quite fond of my saggy Christmas tree and it served me well for about 9 years.

            Then my parents bought themselves a smaller tree and offered their “old one” to me. This one was sturdier and prettier, so I accepted it.

            I took my old one out and set it in its box in front of my apartment complex’s dumpster. The next time I looked it was gone. I hope it served someone else as faithfully as it did me.

            The second of my parent’s cast-off trees was 6 feet tall stayed with me for 15 years. That is, until Christmas Eve of 2011.

            That year I had finished all of my Christmas preparations and had sat down at my computer to enjoy a pleasant evening sending a few last Christmas messages before calling it a night.

            While I’m typing away I hear a crack and then a soft whooshing sound behind me. Puzzled, I turn around in my chair to find my Christmas tree keeled over in the middle of the living room floor. The cracking noise had been the sound of the stand breaking, as I discovered when I bent over to try and stand it back up again. It would never stand on its own again.

            Luckily for me it was early enough in the evening that K-Mart hadn’t closed yet, and I was able to pick up a bulky, clunky-looking tree stand that would have to do.    

             Unfortunately, this new tree stand was designed for real trees, not artificial ones. It was deeper than the one that came with the tree, since it was designed to hold water. In order to make it work, I had to remove the bottom row of branches and try to re-distribute all of the decorations on the tree.

            The people who saw the tree post-accident thought it was pretty. (Sigh of relief.) And while I was grateful I had managed to make it work out, I wished they could have seen it without the accident, because it was much prettier in its original configuration. And so I made it through that Christmas with my jury-rigged tree.

            After the holiday rush, I bought a new tree on sale. It was a pretty medium-green color with cute little fake pinecones on the branches. I was hooked.

            I made a decision that year that after many years of squeezing a 6 foot tree into my small apartment that I only wanted a 5 foot tree. The salesman also assured me that he would make doubly sure that the tree I got actually had pine cones on it, because sometimes the manufacturer left them off.

            A week later when I went to buy the tree I was waited on by a different salesman. He wasn’t as nice, but he assured me that the tree would have the pinecones on it, just like it said on the box.

            The holiday season was past, so I carried my new tree home and placed it in the back of the closet for next year.

            My old tree was disassembled bit by bit and taken down to the garbage can in lots. I hated to waste it like that, but I could not in good conscience put out a broken tree even if it was free.

            So we come to 2012. I take the new tree out of the closet. Problem #1 raises its head immediately. Instead of the 5 foot tree I thought I had gotten, the box says 6.5 feet.  So this tree is even bigger and will take up even more room!

            Unfortunately, it has been a year since I bought it, so I figure there’s no way I am going to be allowed to exchange it. I console myself at the thought of the store giving me the larger, more expensive tree and probably selling the smaller tree I wanted to someone who thought they were getting my 6.5 foot tree.

            So I unbox the tree and Problem #2 promptly raises its head. There are no pinecones on this tree. Nor are there any in the bottom of the box that I can put on it, as the second salesman so glibly assured me when I bought it. I am not happy.

            But the tree is still pretty even without the pinecones, so I struggle for an hour to assemble the tree stand so that I can put my new tree up.

            Yes, I said an hour. My previous two trees (and the one I bought separately after the accident), had been simple to assemble. Those were all put together in just a few minutes. Not this one! We fought for an hour before that stand finally consented to be assembled. The rest of the tree was fairly simple to assemble.

            And now we come to the adventure of stringing up the lights. I began getting out my Christmas lights to discover that nearly all of my light strings had begun to feel their age and were no longer functioning. So I went out and bought a few strings of new LED lights.

            Except that LED lights work on a different principle then the traditional lights do, meaning that my flasher plug has now been rendered useless.

            I have always enjoyed having some of my lights flashing and some of them not. For me, a tree with lights that just sit there is boring. So not being able to have any flashing lights on my tree is not acceptable.

            Unfortunately for me, I soon discover that there is no such thing as buying a string of LED lights with an optional flasher plug. You have to spend the big bucks on a “light show” package.

            Eventually I find a selection of these at my local K-Mart. K-Mart is a handy store to have within walking distance of my house.

            So I take my new “light show” home, and take it out of the box. I string it on the tree. Everything is fine and good at this point. Then I try to choose which lighting effect I want.

            There are eight choices. But it is not so simple as click, click, click from one to the next so you can see the shows and decide which one you want.

            The selector is too flat, so it is difficult to get a good grip on it. Once you do get a grip on it, it is so stiff and tight that it takes a major act of strength to move it from one option to the next.

            So by the time you’ve been to all eight options, your fingers hurt, your hand is sore, and you are practically in tears. But you hold yourself together in order to move back two selections to the one you’ve decided on. In the process you have to pass back over a selection that doesn’t appear to work.

            At least with the second string I knew which selection I wanted and I was able to avoid further strain on my hands and move the selector directly to the option I want. I finish the tree off by stringing it with the remaining solid strings of LED lights, and end up with a pretty nice balance of lights.

            And so we come to 2013, and it is time once again to get the Christmas decorations out.

            I start by placing my never-disassembled tree stand where I want the tree. (I didn’t dare take the thing apart after the fight I had with it last year.) Theoretically, the tree should just pop in the stand, I can tighten the bolts, and it will all be ready to go.

            And that is pretty much what happens. The center pole slides right into place with a plop. And the branches, which are on hinges on the center pole and fold up for storage, promptly unfold, right on top of my head.

            So here I am sitting on the living room floor, trying to tighten the bolts on the tree stand, being attacked by unfolding branches which I have to reach around to get at the bolts. All of this while trying to keep my head up under the weight of the branches.

            Luckily for me I learned the rule of righty-tighty many years ago while working for the cable company and talking people through connecting cables to the converter box. Meaning I can get the bolts tightened even though I can’t really see them.

            In the process, the unfolding branches also knock some things off of the coffee table. So the tree has to be moved around so it is not interfering with everything else in the room.

            The tree gets assembled, it is time to put the lights on, and then some ornaments and garland.

            But all of that is another story. I have had enough adventures with the tree for one day.

           

           

    
                  

               

The Unknown Survivor

Part One

 

By Laura Nelson

 

To those who study pirate history, there were only two survivors of the wreck of the Whydah Galley commanded by Sam Bellamy in April of 1717: Thomas Davis, a Welsh carpenter, and John Julian, a Miskito Indian pilot. But for those who are fans of Cape Cod folklore concerning the Whydah, there exists the possibility that there was a third survivor, who's name remained unknown even upon his death.

The most famous reference to him is made by Henry David Thoreau, who writes:

“In the year 1717, a noted pirate named Bellamy was led on to the bar at Wellfleet by the captain of a snow which he had taken, to whom he had offered his vessel again if he would pilot him into Provincetown Harbor. Tradition says that the latter threw over a burning tar-barrel in the night, which drifted ashore, and the pirates followed it. A storm coming on, their whole fleet was wrecked, and more than a hundred dead bodies lay along the shore. Six who escaped shipwreck were executed.'

“At times to this day,” (1793), says the historian of Wellfleet, “there are King William and Queen Mary's coppers picked up, and pieces of silver called cob-money. The violence of the seas moves the sands on the outer bar, so that at times the iron caboose of the ship [that is, Bellamy's] at low ebbs has been seen.' ”

“Another tells us that, 'For many years after this shipwreck, a man of a very singular and frightful aspect used every spring and autumn to be seen traveling on the Cape, who was supposed to have been one of Bellamy's crew. The presumption is that he went to some place where money had been secreted by the pirates, to get such a supply as his exigencies required. When he died, many pieces of gold were found in a girdle which he constantly wore.' ”¹

April 26, 1717, started out like any other day for the pirates. In the morning, they captured the Mary Anne, “a pink with more than 7,000 gallons of Madeira wine on board... and the Fisher – a small sloop with a cargo of deer hides and tobacco, captured that afternoon,”²

 

In the evening a storm began to roll in, heralded by a dense fog.³ “According to eyewitness accounts, gusts topped 70 miles [113 kilometers] an hour and the seas rose to 30 feet [9 meters].⁴ The accident was best expressed by Thomas Davis in his deposition before trial:

The Ship being at an Anchor, they cut their Cables and ran a shoar, in a quarter of an hour after the Ship struck, the Main-Mast was carried by the board, and in the Morning She was beat to pieces. About Sixteen Prisoners drown'd, Crumpstey Mast of the Pink being one, and One hundred and forty-four in all.⁵

“Although the beach was just 500 feet away, the bitter ocean temperatures were cold enough to kill the strongest swimmer within minutes. Other crew members were crushed by the weight of falling rigging, cannon, and cargo as the ship, her treasure, and the remaining men on board plunged to the ocean floor, swallowed up by the shifting sands of the cape.”⁶

When local residents arrived on the shore the next morning “more than a hundred mutilated corpses lay at the wrack line with the ship's timbers.”⁷

So it is entirely conceivable that someone else could have survived the wreck and remained undiscovered.

To be continued…

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Clifford, Barry and Kenneth J Kinkor, Real Pirates: The Untold Story of the Whydah from Slave Ship to Pirate Ship. National Geographic, 2007.

Thoreau, Henry David, Cape Cod, Parnassus Prints, Inc., Orleans, Massachusetts, 1984

“The Trials of Eight Persons Indited for Piracy” in British Piracy in the Golden Age, edited by Joel H Baer (2:289-319). Pickering and Chatto, 2007.

 

ENDNOTES

1Thoreau, Henry David, Cape Cod, Parnassus Prints, Inc., Orleans, Massachusetts, 1984, pp 186-187

2Clifford, Barry and Kenneth J Kinkor, Real Pirates: The Untold Story of the Whydah from Slave Ship to Pirate Ship. National Geographic, 2007, p 130

3Clifford, Barry and Kenneth J Kinkor, Real Pirates: The Untold Story of the Whydah from Slave Ship to Pirate Ship. National Geographic, 2007. In Real Pirates, Barry Clifford describes the storm: “An Arctic gale from Canada was colliding with a warm front moving northward from the Caribbean. Their confluence produced one of the worst storms ever to strike Cape Cod. (p 130) “Technically known as an occluded front, the warm and moist tropical air is driven for miles upward where it cools and falls at a very high speed, producing high winds, heavy rain, and severe lightning.” (p 262)

4Donovan Webster, “Pirates of the Whydah,” in National Geographic Magazine (May 1999).

5“The Trials of Eight Persons Indited for Piracy” in British Piracy in the Golden Age, edited by Joel H Baer (2:289-319). Pickering and Chatto, 2007, p 318

6Clifford, Barry and Kenneth J Kinkor, Real Pirates: The Untold Story of the Whydah from Slave Ship to Pirate Ship. National Geographic, 2007, p 131

7Donovan Webster, “Pirates of the Whydah,” in National Geographic Magazine (May 1999).