Black Sam - Prince of Pirates

Three - THE TROUBLE WITH FRIENDS

 Three-THETROUBLEWITHFRIENDS

July 1716

The few ships docked at the Cape Cod Harbor swayed as the placid waters caressed each hull. Faint sounds of the ships' bells rang with the rhythm of the sea. Dockworkers were busy unloading and loading cargo.

On the boardwalk, Sam Bellamy and Nathaniel Gates were in no hurry. Sam towered over the old man by at least six inches, his long black hair tied back in a matching ribbon. The older man chose to wear the fashionable white powdered wig.

“Nathaniel, the very reason I am here now is that we had an agreement.”

“I know. I know.”

“You said you had a ship for me.”

“And I did!” Nathaniel said with some force.

Sam exhaled deeply and shook his head.

“I was ready for you to come, just like I promised your father.” He stopped and turned to Sam. “I’m sorry for your loss; he was a good man and a good friend.”

“Thank you, Nathaniel.”

He continued down the boardwalk. “Sam, I do not have a ship for you because it was taken along with two others, bloody Scoundrels.” Nathaniel paused and thought for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do myself. You see, I’m trying to get my struggling company back into the black and without those ships…” Nathaniel put his hand to his face.

Sam could tell he was about to burst emotionally, and, for an instant, the man reminded him of his own father. Nathaniel’s bottom lip quivered. He massaged his mouth and chin as if to wipe his emotions away, but hard times had taken their toll and tears began to fall. Sam felt terrible for acting so selfishly. His father had spoken highly of Nathaniel, describing him as a man of his word.

“I’m sorry, Nathaniel.”

“Sam my boy, so am I.”

“No, sincerely, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Nathaniel allowed a smile to break through the sadness on his face. He took a moment to regain his composure. “They say the Spanish Succession is over, but it seems as though that news hasn’t made it this far. Moreover, this Great Northern War, well, that just never ends. There’s been a treaty, then a battle, treaty, battle...” Nathaniel shook his head. Bringing up these world events seemed to be more about diverting Nathaniel’s attention away from what made him emotional than it was about the events themselves.

Sam picked up on the diversion. “It was the French, wasn’t it?”

“It’s hard to say. French, Spanish, Swedes...They all attack private merchant ships. I am afraid to say that even the English are guilty of it. Privateers, hah! Pirates with orders from government they are.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe you and I should start our own privateer organization.” He laughed.

Sam watched as his friend’s countenance changed from gloom, to jovial. “Don’t tempt me, Nathaniel; I wouldn’t mind a chance to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

Nathaniel looked at Sam with a proud grin. “You’ll make an excellent captain. I only wish that it was on one of my ships.” He grabbed Sam’s shoulder and gave it a pat. Sam smiled at Nathaniel and then turned toward the dock. He rested his arms on the railing and stared out into the blue. Nathaniel did the same. They stood there in silence watching a handful of ships slowly dance in the orange glow of the setting sun. After a moment, Nathaniel gave Sam’s arm a squeeze and then walked away.

Sam could not help notice his friend's slow and seemingly wounded gait. He looked defeated and drained of energy. He felt sorrow for his friend and anger about his new circumstances. Most likely Nathaniel’s loss was at the hands of privateers working for the Spanish government. It never made sense to Sam that governments both supported and rejected piracy. He supposed that it depended on their immediate needs. As soon as the government no longer wanted the pirates, they hanged them. Sam's thoughts turned to war. He understood that it was an inevitable part of life; that there were tyrants in the world, and a nation had a right to defend itself. He also had the opinion that many kings, who had not quite grown up, created wars unjustly. Like youngsters in a sandbox, they squabbled over childish things.