Chapter 6: Taste of Iron and Wine

Albatros navigation log, Edward Blackridge, captain.
June 15, 1720. Bay of Baracoa.

We boarded a Spanish merchantman after it raised the white flag and pretended to surrender, but its men attacked us treacherously. After taking the ship, five men were executed: three thrown into the sea and two others left at the mercy of the crew, as was a woman. The confrontation cost the lives of seven of the fifty-five men of the Albatros, leaving us forty-eight.

During the subsequent crossing, a storm caused damage to the hull, the rigging, and the sails. The leaks were contained, but they require complete repair. Some of the salt water reached the barrels and mixed with our fresh-water reserves, which forced us to reduce rations and prolonged thirst for days. Six captives remain: four locked in the cell, the man from Cádiz, Rodrigo Montoya, who helps with port affairs, and the Basque Pedro Zabaleta, confined in another room.

In Baracoa we have obtained water, provisions, and the materials necessary for the repairs, which will begin today and are expected to last two weeks. The crew is exhausted. Some men were able to relieve themselves ashore last night, but not all received permission to disembark, since the presence of so many men of color would have endangered the identity under which we entered the port. To make up for it, tonight a plentiful dinner will be offered aboard, accompanied by alcohol.

Edward let the ink dry before closing the navigation log. He stored it with the rest of the ship’s documents and took out a small key hidden beneath the flap of his boot. With it he opened the lower drawer of the desk. From there he took out another notebook, smaller. That one did not belong to the ship nor was it meant to be read by any officer. It was his. He opened it to the last written page and took up the quill again.

June 15

I have the Basque chained in my cabin, right beside me, lying on the floor and naked. The crew knows he is here with me, but they ask no questions.

It had been years since I felt these impulses. Not since Cape Verde. I like having him there, helpless, frightened, and completely at my mercy. I am ashamed to admit it even to these pages, though it would be still more cowardly to lie to myself.

Miguel came to see me this morning and told me what had happened with the prisoner he took from the infirmary. He said he literally went too far and that the man died during the act. During the night he wrapped him up, added weight, and threw him into the sea.

He also revealed to me that Mayor is still alive and chained in his quarters, though we all believed him lost during the storm. Keeping him hidden there is not viable. We will have to decide what to do with him today.

Passing through the lower deck, I found Diego asleep in front of the cell, with Rodrigo resting beside him and chained by the ankle. When I woke him, he explained that he had not wa...