Victory is ours.


We made our move at dawn.  We attacked from windward with full canvas deployed.  We switched back to our white sails during the night; no use in risking damage to our "stealth" sails when we've no need for stealth.  As our prey came over the horizon, we saw our target clearly for the first time.  The light danced off her stern like lighting; a Spanish Treasure Ship, probably loaded with gold, silver, and all other manner of precious materials.  She sighted us within 10 minutes and flagged us to show our colors.  We did.  She was not pleased.


So began the chase.  For two hours we chased her, finally forcing her into the shoals off a desert island.  Her back to a wall and too slow to attempt an escape, she turned broadside and made ready to fire.  She never got the chance; our starboard guns opened fire, tearing her hull to pieces.  As we reloaded for a second broadside, her Captain struck his colors.


We moved in along side and threw over grappling hooks and two gang-planks.  Upon surrendering his sword, the Captain requested that the crew not be harmed and that his carpenters be allowed to shore-up the flooding on the lower decks.


I did him one better; I offered him and his crew a chance to join us.  Acceptance was quick.  Half his crew would trade places with half of my crew, and my carpenters would assist in repairing the damage to his lower decks.  All in all, not what I had hoped for, but, in hide-sight, it's better that my crew's blood-lust not be met just yet.  The more I allow it to fester and grow, the more fiercely they'll fight when the time comes.


Complication:  Midway through repairs and crew transfer, our look-out spotted a ship bearing down on us from windward.  An English Brigantine, most likely a merchant vessel, rushing to investigate what must have been a fairly odd scene.  As she drew closer we lowered our colors and flagged her to leave, that everything was alright.


Her Captain didn't buy it.  He turned broadside and opened fire on us.  All six shots landed short.  We retaliated with chain-shot from the four (4) long-nines on our weather deck.  After a fifteen minute exchange we heard a loud crack and saw the Brigantine's mizzen-mast snap like a tooth-pick.  Her advantage of maneuver lost, she limped out of range but stayed in sight, presumably to signal the next passing ship for help.


We finished repairs to the Treasure Ship mid-afternoon and cast off with our catch in tow.  We headed west in hopes of hitting a French out-post in the Florida Keys where we might be able to sell off the slow, hulking mass that is a Spanish Treasure Ship in favor of a smaller, more maneuverable sloop or brig.  We passed the Brigantine on the way out, defiantly raising our colors.


Instead of attacking she chose to limp away as we sailed off into the sunset.