Black Tom

“Algo esta mal. Puedo sentirlo en mis huesos.”

—Captain Esposa

Caribbean Sea

1709

“Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones,” Captain Esposa mumbled while peering out over the sea-splashed deck. The Nuestra Señora del Mar was the only galleon in a small fleet and therefore carried the bulk of the gold they’d collected from across the Spanish territories in the Caribbean. It was a proud position for Captain Esposa but a perilous one for the Señora, the hurricane swells coming over her deck walls that night. The weight of the bullion had slowed her far behind the safety of the rest of the ships, and the captain knew they were now perilously alone in the storm.

The winds howled, and each mammoth wave that pounded its side tossed the large ship. Most crew members were busily occupied with tying down anything they could, while the rest fought to remain calm beneath the deck, in the sleeping quarters and the galley. The captain continued to look out into the dark storm with the hope of seeing any sign of the other ships or one of the nearby islands. They’d all but lost their bearings in the storm, and he feared the shallows of the uninhabited islands around Spanish Cuba. But that wasn’t all he feared.

The Nuestra Señora del Mar was a newer Spanish galleon and carried a proud name: Our Lady of the Sea. Named as a variation of Our Lady Star of the Sea, an ancient title for the Virgin Mary, her captain was charged with returning to King Philip V a massive bounty of gold from the Spanish colonies. Captain Esposa, his crew, and six additional ships had spent many months traveling from Spain across the Atlantic Ocean to the colonies in and around the Caribbean Sea, collecting gold in the form of taxation. The Nuestra Señora del Mar, while still a formidable ship, had been stripped of more than half its cannons to make her lighter and capable of carrying a much heavier load back to Spain. She was to be protected by the smaller craft in the fleet against any possible confrontation with those who might find it easier to steal from a ship on the sea than to attack a well-protected, land-based colony.

As the ship rode slowly to the top of the massive waves, Captain Esposa surveyed the near-black horizon with hope but could see no further than a rifle shot away. The ship moved quickly down the other side of the wave, and the captain heard shouts from a few of his crew. Morale was low indeed. Wave after wave, he held his breath with fading hopes that were dashed repeatedly in the terrible storm. Knowing the safety of the crew and the ship belonged to him alone, he continued to look out into the miserable night.

And then he saw it for only the briefest of moments, at the crest of a wave. Captain Esposa wiped the rain and salt from his eyes and spotted a single lamplight in the near distance; it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. The captain’s hopes and fears collided as he looked down and saw his own deck with no fewer than thirty lamps.

The weathered and aged first mate made his way to the captain’s side, keeping his balance in the rough storm by holding onto a series of ropes the crew had tied across the ship’s deck to help prevent men from going overboard. “The crew’s hoping we’ll find land soon, Captain, and I’m with them. Think we’ll get out of this mess soon?” the first mate shouted against the wind.

Esposa looked calmly at his old comrade and responded in a serious tone, “It’s not the storm or land I’m worried about, my friend. I’m afraid we’re not as alone as we might’ve thought.”

* * *

Captain Thomas Roberts, better known in these waters as Black Tom, quickly doused the lantern his crew had used to check the guns on the deck of his ship. It was easy for the pirate ship captain to keep an eye on the nearby Spanish galleon with all the lights on her deck, and he wanted their presence to be invisible to the Spaniards as long as possible in the storm. They’d been distantly following the Spanish ships for several days and had moved in closer only when the heavy storm rolled in. Black Tom was still young by pirate standards at twenty-one, and while he’d made a name for himself around Jamaica and Cuba as a fearless and unlawful captain, he was eager for an opportunity at true wealth and power. The Nuestra Señora del Mar, now less than half a nautical mile away, appeared to be just that.

The young pirate had watched from a distance as the Spanish ships had grown farther and farther apart in the storm. He and his crew had spent many nights evading chase from other vessels in similar weather in the past. To a degree, Black Tom found it comforting. A smile grew on his face, and he pulled his hat lower on his head to avoid losing it in the high winds.

“Smith!” he shouted into the wind.

“Yes, Captain?” The man, Smith, had been beside him all along, but the captain hadn’t noticed.

Looking over at his first mate, still with an eerie smile, Captain Roberts said only one word: “Now.”

* * *

Aboard the Nuestra Señora del Mar, Captain Esposa stared outward, struggling to see the lamplight somewhere in the blackness of the storm. His first mate was frozen in place, watching the captain as closely as possible for any confirmation of his own fears. The first cannon shots came from much closer than expected. It was as if lightning burst outward from the sea itself and for the slightest of moments was something beautiful…until the fiery cannonballs reached the ship, of course. Four of the initial seven smashed into the side of the Señora, forcing a change in the familiar back-and-forth rocking motion they’d been feeling for many hours.

Instantly the crew was on deck, and both Captain Esposa and his first mate were shouting a myriad of instructions through the howling winds: “Man the cannons!” “All men to quarters!” “Fire at will! Fire! Fire! Fire!”

The crew couldn’t hear the words through the storm, but the message was clear, and each man scrambled to his assigned post. They were well trained and seasoned and had in fact defended the Nuestra Señora del Mar from pirates in the past, but now, with the ship reduced to half her weapons, they were in a serious situation.

* * *

Black Tom arranged to move his ship, known as The Vile Hangman, along the crest of a high wave as soon as his men fired the first round. Using the deck lights from the Spanish galleon as a guide in the dark sea, his crew forced The Hangman toward the bow of their target quickly after the cannons finished firing. The Nuestra Señora del Mar would certainly begin to respond, but by the time they did, he’d be positioned for his second round of attack.

* * *

Captain Esposa’s crew followed protocol and began to blast into the darkness of the storm. Even as the cannons blared, he knew that without some visibility, the effort was futile. His only hope was that the pirate vessel wouldn’t be aware the great galleon had so few guns aboard. His crew was fighting against the rolling of the ship and working to launch a second round of cannonballs aimlessly into the sea when they were again blasted by cannons, this time from the bow.

The captain’s mind was reeling. How can I fight an enemy I can’t see? he thought while again surveying the rolling seas around them. Most of the crew had begun to move to the other side of the ship with the assumption their target had switched sides, but many looked to the captain for direction. “Man all guns,” he shouted. “Fire everything!”

The first mate looked perplexed but forced the crew into positions and sent cannon fire spraying in all directions around the heavy ship, the crew reloading and continuing to fire as quickly as possible.

* * *

Black Tom continued to smile as his crew avoided each cannonball. When they were positioned against the portside of the Spanish ship, he shouted, “Fire!” Once again they had the upper hand, and entire portions of the side of the galleon were sent flying into the sea.

“Captain Roberts,” the first mate said, “we must be cautious not to break the hull, or we’ll lose her to the depths.”

Roberts looked down at his first mate with a scowl. This was his moment of glory, and he’d be successful. “Fire again,” he shouted while glaring at his first mate, who quickly supported the order.

* * *

When the second round of cannonballs impacted the side of his ship, Captain Esposa knew they were in serious trouble. They were not armed to support this type of battle, and he still couldn’t see his opponent. A large portion of the deck was now splintered and gone, as was a section of the deck wall. This now allowed more of the high seas to pour into the hull. If this continued, they’d certainly lose the ship.

In this moment of despair, the captain was suddenly graced with another glimpse of hope: through the clouds, wind, and rain, he saw the slightest signs of light, and with this he’d be able to find his target. Instantly recharged, Captain Esposa shouted to his first mate and crew to continue firing with the hope they could keep the pirate ship at bay until dawn arrived.

* * *

The rising dawn didn’t go unnoticed by the young pirate captain either. Spotting the slight breaking of the storm and night, Black Tom knew his chances of success would soon be diminished. The eager captain shouted, wide-eyed, into the night, “Fire all guns at them, now!”

His first mate looked to him and begged, “Captain, we must be cautious.” But the captain was simply too focused on the prize and ignored this pleading.

As the pirate ship rode down yet another wave, the excited crew continued to fire, and slightly before the full dawn they sent cannonballs flying not at the mast as they’d planned but through the side of the Señora’s hull. By morning she’d be sunk.

“Damn,” Black Tom whispered to himself. He looked over at his first mate and grimaced. “Get the hooks.”

The first mate jumped to the head of the ship’s deck and gave a series of orders to the crew.

* * *

When the last round of shots hit the side of his ship, Captain Esposa also knew they were done for. He would never see his home again, nor would he have the glory of bringing the massive amount of gold in the ship’s hull to his king. With this realization he pulled his first mate close. “They will attempt to board us, and we must be ready,” Esposa said. “Align half the crew to the deck with swords at the ready and the other half to pull together whatever we have left to get this ship to the shallows.”

Looking confused, the first mate asked, “The shallows, Captain? We’ll sink for sure if we find them.”

“That’s the plan, my old friend. Our only hope is to find land now. Anything short of that will be lost to the depths of the sea.” The captain looked away and prayed for the sun to break through the clouds quickly.

* * *

Captain Roberts had his ship within a hundred yards of the Señora in moments, and his crew quickly launched a series of three-pronged hooks attached to long lengths of rope across to the Spanish galleon’s deck. His crew was fearless as they pulled themselves over the huge sea swells from one ship to the next and began fighting the moment they dropped onto the crippled ship. The rain was letting up, and they could see much more clearly now. Black Tom smiled broadly and knew he’d take the ship soon.

* * *

Esposa watched as the pirates flooded his decks like ants. Men from each crew fought for their lives, and the losses on both sides were vast and brutal. The captain, true to his post, stayed focused on his only chance to save what remained of his ship and its precious cargo. In the breaking light of dawn, he could see a small island he believed to be near the larger island of Cayo Rabihorcado. Between these was a reef, and if he could make it there, the battle would at worst be even and at best be in his favor. Although he’d lose the ship, if he could fight off the pirates long enough, perhaps the other ships in his small fleet might find them in time to protect the king’s gold.

With half his crew fighting off the pirates and the other half forcing the dying galleon toward the shallows, the captain pulled out his sword and moved to the battle at hand. He could see the pirate ship tied to his with grappling lines and felt embarrassed that such a tiny vessel had been able to cripple his magnificent ship. He cursed the bookkeeper in Madrid who’d decided he should have so few cannons and then launched himself into the bloody battle.

The Nuestra Señora del Mar reached the shallows near Cayo Rabihorcado slightly after dawn. Captain Esposa was alive to hear the hull crash upon the reef and feel his ship quickly begin to sink. When the sun finally rose and the rain let up, he was dying, as were virtually all of his crew who weren’t already dead, such as his first mate. In his last moments, he saw a young pirate make his way to the galleon’s deck and curse. Esposa smiled grimly, knowing he’d done all he could for his crew and his country, and then he passed away.

* * *

“I want every man here moving the gold from this ship to that island now!” Captain Roberts shouted at his first mate, loudly enough for his entire crew to hear. The men stood in waist-deep water in the broken and sinking hull of the galleon to pull out the gold. The ship was sinking quickly, and after only an hour the crew members who could swim dove for handfuls of gold to pass along to those who were moving it to the uninhabited island nearby. After almost six hours, they’d amassed a small mountain of gold on the beach of the tiny island, and the Nuestra Señora del Mar had succumbed to the sea forever.

He’d done it. He would be the wealthiest and most feared pirate around provided he could avoid being found by the remaining members of the Spanish fleet. Black Tom stared at this mound of precious metal and then over at his ship. The pirate captain knew his small vessel couldn’t sail under the weight of the gold, and he couldn’t trust his crew to guard it while he went to purchase or steal another. Additionally, he was aware the gold couldn’t be visible when the other Spaniards sailed back to look for their counterpart. He was trapped in a situation he’d created, and in the early light of day he knew he had little time to come up with a solution.

The island was simple in its formation. Beaches and palm trees surrounded a small, protruding hill that made up the center of the island. Atop the hill stood an unused stone lighthouse. Aside from this, the island was empty and offered few places to stash such a large treasure. The captain stared at the middle of the island for several minutes in silence.

His first mate cleared his throat and asked, “Captain, what do you want the crew to do with the gold?”

Black Tom turned to the man. “Get the shovels. We’re heading to the lighthouse.”

* * *

When the Spaniards caught up with the pirates roughly two days following their battle with the Nuestra Señora del Mar, Captain Roberts and his crew fought valiantly. They were outmanned, outgunned, and outmatched. The fight lasted less than an hour. The Spaniards took no prisoners, and no tales of the great Black Tom ever escaped. The pirate ship sunk with a hull full of rum and a battered and defeated crew. But no gold.