Chapter Six - Finally at Sea

September 1, 1740

We arrived at the docks of Veracruz and set our eyes on our ship, the San Ignacio. We were amazed by the enormity of the ship. She was a two-hundred-foot-long three-masted Spanish warship, with seventy guns on two gun decks, a crew of 360 Spanish sailors, and three women. Oh joy, this should be fun. Not! The San Ignacio would be returning to Spain with tons of silver and gold.

The second ship joining the voyage was the Santa Rosa de Lima. This was a smaller Spanish frigate with a total of sixty-four guns. She would act as an escort for the San Ignacio. Our small trunks and saddlebags were loaded. We would have three rooms near the stern of the ship, next to the captain’s cabin.

The cabins were quite small, each with a single bed that could barely sleep two, and a second bed, or berth, above the first, which would sleep just one. A small writing desk and closet were off to the left side of the cabin. There was no window to look out to sea. Just as well, I thought. If I was going to be seasick, up on deck would be the best place to be.

“Well, what do you think?” Jacob asked.

“Really?” I said. “No pool?”

“Oh, you’re funny. You know that?”

What was I supposed to say? It was a warship taking us to Spain. There was nothing grand or great about it. The reality was, though, that I was very thankful. Only the rich travelled to and from Spain aboard ships like this. This was by no means a luxury ship, but we would make do with what we had.

The others joined us. “Quaint” was the overall description we all agreed on. We would make the best of it, and we would survive. Compared to this past year of our lives, this would be grand.

That night, at high tide, the two ships untied from the dock, lifted sail, and departed for Spain. We would make one stop in Havana before heading on to Seville. I was already looking forward to Havana by the time we got to open water.

As evening approached, we had our first dinner with Captain Alfonso de Leiva. He was the typical flamboyant Spanish man from that era and wore an actual feather in his captain’s hat. His look was completed by a thin mustache. He was also quite a gentleman, and looked forward to practising his English in the coming days. He was joined by his first officer, Felipe Ormazábal, and his second officer, Manuel Onchezes. They were both very charming and classy. Jacob and the other guys were getting a little jealous, but as far as we were concerned, they could just get over it.

That night we went up on deck for our first of many moonlight strolls. All we could hear was the wind and the sound of the Santa Rosa de Lima cutting the waves in our wake.

September 2, 1740

It was our first full day at sea, and a special day for Tom. Today was his nineteenth birthday. What do you get a man who has nothing but the shirt on his back? We sang “Happy Birthday” to him. The crew thought that was a little strange. There was no cake, just a piece of something that resembled a pie, which we snuck from the galley and had been meant for tonight’s dinner with the captain. We managed to find a single candle to blow out. The six of us huddled while we gave our best wishes to Tom. Keara informed him that his gift was coming later that night. We all had a drink of rum in his name to celebrate the special occasion. This was the only alcoholic beverage you could get lots of in this time.

“To Tom, our friend in arms, happy birthday, may all your dreams come true,” Jacob toasted.

“Cheers,” we all joined in.

September 3, 1740

This day was much like the last day. We were all starting to get a little bored. We each took turns sneaking into our cabins to listen to music on our phones or MP3 players. Music was still the one escape I had. It gave me peace and let me be free of this world. We constantly worried that one of these days the USB charge unit would no longer keep our gadgets working. That alone was a very scary thought. We would lose our one link back home, to who we were and where we came from. Jacob was sure the little orange unit and his solar wonder case would last for some years, and if it did fail, he was pretty sure he could fix it. I certainly hoped so, but I had my doubts.

We were still seven days out from Havana. The skies this day were dark, and I sensed a storm approaching. I was sitting there, thinking back on how we often heard about hurricanes at this time of year, and I hoped this was not the case. The San Ignacio was a new ship, but a hurricane would sink her. I thought about all the sunken treasure ships off Florida, and I did not want to be on one of those. It would be great to know what became of the San Ignacio. Sure would give us some peace of mind.

It was late when I wrote my last words, the cabin faintly lit by a tarnished oil lamp. Jacob had fallen sound asleep next to me. I would soon join my husband, lover, and friend, and see what tomorrow would bring. This had been a good day.

September 4, 1740

On this day I killed men. I don’t know how many. On this day I also lost my best friend.

This morning we woke up as usual to the familiar sounds of the crew at work and the ongoing yelling of Spanish men giving orders to one another. We joined the captain for breakfast and then headed up onto deck. The sky was clear, the wind strong, and at around eleven, Jacob went below in hopes of catching a short nap. We were all getting very accustomed to midday naps. The lack of doing anything interesting was getting to us.

It was around this time that the lookout on the main mast called down to the first officer to inform him that he had spotted three sails on the horizon, off our starboard bow, the right side. Felipe quickly reported the news to Captain Leiva. Shortly after, we saw the ships had changed course to intercept us. There was confusion and concern.

The five of us went below to find Jacob.

“Jacob, get up,” I told him. “They’ve just spotted three ships to the southeast of us, heading our way.”

Andy noted, “They could be pirate ships.”

Jacob looked at him, amused. “Yeah, right, what are the odds of that?”

“About the same odds of us travelling through time and ending up here,” I pointed out.

“Okay, noted.”

We left the cabin and headed onto the deck. The captain looked very concerned. The call came down. The three ships were British warships heading to intercept us.

“Oh shit,” Jacob said.

“What!” I asked.

“Not good, not good.”

“Jacob, what?”

“Spain and Britain are at war, and we are on a warship, and we are carrying silver and gold. You work it out.”

“They’re not going to attack, are they?” asked Kim.

“They are! Trinity, ask the captain what’s going on and what his plan is.”

At that moment, the captain called out in Spanish, “Battle stations!” The ship’s bell was rung, and the crew jumped into action. The second ship, the Santa Rosa de Lima, also sounded the alarm.

“What is he saying?” yelled Jacob to me.

“He’s calling for the gun crews to get ready, and for the master of arms to hand out the long guns.”

The captain ordered the helmsman to change course. He put the full speed of the wind behind us, hoping to outrun the three British ships. We changed course and started to head away from the three frigates, and they changed course to follow us. They were closing in fast.

Jacob ran to the cabin and returned with the second half of the binoculars. He used it as a monocular, as Don Carlos had.

“Captain!” Jacob yelled to Leiva.

The captain came and looked through the monocular. He was shocked and then looked again. It was now clear, we knew who they were. They were British, and had thirty guns, each closing in very fast. The British ships were smaller, lighter, and much faster than ours. We were loaded with silver and gold. There was no way we could outrun them. We would have to fight!

“What do we do?” I asked. Someone had to, because we were all just standing there. Jacob looked at us and then turned toward the three British ships.

“Like it or not, we are going to war, and we will have to fight.”

“No. No way!” I said.

“Trinity, and the rest of you, the fact is that we are on a Spanish warship. This crew will not give up without some kind of a fight. Those three ships will not give up either! Their mission is to attack Spanish ships. In less than thirty minutes, they will be on us. Should we lose, one of two things will happen: We will die, or if we should live, the British will board this ship and seize everything and everyone on it. We will be prisoners of the Crown, and all of our stuff from the twenty-first century will raise a lot of questions, which we cannot answer.”

“We’ll throw it over the side!” Keara yelled.

“No!” I said. “No way.”

“It isn’t going to change the fact that there is going to be a battle,” Jacob said.

It was then that we had to make some hard choices. We all knew what we had to do. We may not have liked the Spanish for what they were doing to the people, but the fact was that fate was playing out for us as it always did. If we did nothing, how would we live with ourselves? If we tried to fight, we were taking our future into our own hands. When you are faced with death, you do what it takes to survive. We were getting good at that.

“Should I tell the captain that we will fight alongside of him?” I said.

Jacob looked at me. The others looked at me. Do I regret my decision? No, it was a decision. We had learned there were no right or wrong answers. Once a decision was made, we had to live with it. At the very end, when I think back, it was the right one.

“Trinity, come with me,” said Jacob.

I followed him, and we made our way over to the captain on the upper wheel deck. I told the captain of our decision. He looked at us and told the master of arms to provide us with muskets.

Jacob and I ran down to our cabin. He grabbed his two pistols from the locker and started to load them. I tried to get out of my dress.

“Damn it, Jacob, cut it off. I need to get into something I can move in!”

He pulled out his knife and started to cut the strings holding the dress on. I tore if off and quickly put on some men’s pants and a shirt.

As we got back to the main deck, we could see the three ships very clearly. They were closing in fast. The master of arms handed us each two rifles. Keara and Kim didn’t know what to do.

Tom and Andy also had two rifles each. “Keara, Kim, do you know how to load these things?”

“Yes!”

“I want you to stay low, and as we fire, you reload for us. Make sure you blow down the barrel, to make sure the embers are out, before putting the powder down. Got it?”

“We got it,” Keara said.

Jacob handed the powder and ball bags to the two of them.

I looked at Jacob. I wondered if today was a good day to die. He looked at me and read my mind.

“Whatever happens, I love you, and today we are going to make it. You got that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I love you.”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

I knew he did.

The ships were now five minutes away from catching us. Captain Leiva ordered the two Spanish ships to open up the spacing between the two of us. The hope was to drive the three British ships apart. For them to be effective, they would have to maximize their firepower. The three ships would have to line up with the two Spanish ships. The only way this would work for the British was to have one frigate sail down the middle, between the two Spanish ships, and the other two British ships would come up on the outside, one on the starboard side of the San Ignacio, and the other on the port side of the Santa Rosa de Lima. This way they could concentrate their gunfire on us. Sure enough, the British ships opened up and started to make their run as Captain Leiva had hoped. This gave us our best chance of using our seventy guns and the Santa Rosa de Lima’s sixty-four guns. What I found out was you only get one chance. You fire your guns, make them count, and if—and I mean if—you are lucky, you get maybe one more chance to fire what is left of your guns a second time.

Jacob and I stood there with Tom and Andy, waiting.

“You know how to use that thing?” Jacob asked.

I knew how a flintlock worked; we had done some shooting in Mazatlán with Don Carlos. Jacob had also taken us target shooting years earlier. I was actually quite good at it. I used to beat the boys at long-range shooting. This, of course, was not the same, but at least I knew how to aim and how to shoot.

“Find your target, and hold until you hear the order from the officer,” Jacob said. “Understood?”

“Yes, understood,” we called back.

The minutes counted down. I looked down the barrel of the gun. I would be pointing it at a man. When I pulled the trigger, the ball would be fired, and I would be hitting someone and most likely taking his life.

Jacob said, “Whatever you do, don’t think. Just do. Make them count.”

The time was high noon. The three British ships raced in on us. What seemed as though it was taking forever was happening in just minutes.

Then, Captain Leiva ordered the mainsails dropped. He was going to try to slow the ship down as quickly as possible. The hope was that the British ships would be caught off guard and race past us as we fired our guns. This way, the ships would not be locked in battle. The sails fell. Instantly the ship started to slow down. The British ships were almost upon us. The order was given to get ready.

Our seventy plus sixty-four guns were ready. There were around two hundred men with muskets on each ship waiting to fire. On the approaching British ships were sixteen guns to our left and sixteen to our right, plus a hundred or so British Marines with muskets aimed at us. Thirty-two guns on us and we had seventy. It sounded good. But, the British controlled the seas for a reason. The Spanish were not known for winning many sea battles.

Captain Leiva called out, “Mantener!” for us to hold our fire.

Who would shoot first? The British ships were almost in line with us. Then the ship to our right turned to her left to get closer. I held the musket and aimed. The British frigate was about 150 feet off our starboard. I could see my target. A Marine whose name I will never know was wearing a red uniform.

“¡Manténganse!” yelled the captain.

Time stood still. I took one last look over at Jacob. I turned and looked back at Kim and Keara, hiding, ready to hand us more loaded muskets.

Then I saw the white smoke from their guns!

“¡Fuego! ¡Fuego!” yelled the captain and gunnery officer.

I pulled the trigger at the same time the main guns fired, thirty-two British guns, and a second later, our seventy guns. I saw the hit from my musket.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. It was like the sound of a thousand fireworks, but a million times louder! The heat was overwhelming; the air was hot and alive. Small lead shot balls sailed by and hit the ship. The man next to me was hit and fell to the deck. The cannonballs from the British guns slammed into our ship. Words cannot capture the madness of that day. There is a hell, and we lived it. Men stood there one moment and then were gone within a second. Explosions tore through the ship; wood, bodies, and limbs went flying everywhere. You couldn’t imagine.

The British fired a number of chain-shot rounds, two cannonballs joined by a steel chain, which were targeted at our main masts. One hit the main mast of the San Ignacio and sheared it off. It came crashing down on us. I fell to the deck, trying to take cover from the onslaught of gunfire. The world now moved in slow motion around me. As the main mast came down, it tangled in the rigging and fell over onto the British ship attacking us. We were now joined. Even if the British ship wanted to clear out, it couldn’t. The guns on the port side fired on the second British ship, which found itself in between us and the Santa Rosa de Lima. The British ship fired their sixteen guns, which hit hard into our port side. But the Santa Rosa de Lima and San Ignacio focused their gunfire midship on the second British frigate. Seventy cannonballs slammed into it. The centre of the ship exploded under the onslaught. One second it was there, and then it had broken in half and vanished from sight in all the thick smoke of the guns.

“Are you all right?” Jacob yelled.

“I’m fine!” I called back.

The call “¡Fuego! ¡Fuego!” rang out again. I stood with the second musket, took aim, and fired. This time I was just shooting at a sea of red uniforms on the opposite ship.

We ducked down once again. Jacob grabbed my two muskets and retreated to Kim and Keara, who had four new ones for us. He crawled his way back to me. That was the last time I ever saw the two girls together.

“Here.” He handed me a musket.

As before, I stood, aimed, fired. There was no logic anymore. No orders, no commands to follow. It was a free-for-all. Gunfire sounded, followed by more gunfire. Then hooks with lines came flying across to hook on to the sides and rigging of the San Ignacio. The British were trying to pull the ships closer to board us. First Officer Ormazábal gave the order for the San Ignacio to pull away, but with the main mast on the British ship, we couldn’t. Again I stood, fired, and dropped below cover. There was nowhere to go for more guns. I blew down the barrel and started to frantically stuff powder and ball down the barrel. I was starting to lose it. I had to stay focused.

A wooden boarding plank landed feet away from me. The British Marines were coming aboard. I pulled the hammer back on the flintlock, and as I did, I saw the face of a British soldier. He was just a boy, maybe sixteen years old. I think he was shocked to see a woman staring back at him. I’m convinced it was that moment that saved my life. I lifted the musket and pulled the trigger. He went over the side of the ship. More soldiers poured over to the San Ignacio. I stood and grabbed a sword and lifted it. More gunshots followed. Then a soldier came at me with a gun and fixed bayonet. I swung the sword at him and the gun, trying to fend him off. Then there was a great explosion. I remember pain and crashing to the ship’s deck. There was smoke and fire, and it was all happening in slow motion. I could see Jacob standing there. He pulled his two pistols and fired one and then the other.

I rolled over onto my back and noticed that Andy was lying face down on the deck. I looked at my leg and saw a small steel spike sticking out of it. The clothes around the metal were smoking. I grabbed hold and pulled it out. The pain was unbearable. As I pulled it free, I burned my fingers from the heat of the metal shrapnel. There was no blood; the heat had cauterized the wound.

I looked back at Jacob. He was beating a man to death with the end of a rifle stock. There were more explosions, fires everywhere. I tried to get up, but couldn’t. I used the sword as a crutch and pulled myself up. I wildly swung the sword at anyone wearing a red uniform.

There was no magic, no glory, no good. This was man killing man. I’d known Jacob for about six years. In all those six years, he was always the one who would try to keep from fighting. We all knew he collected military paraphernalia, but that did not make him a warmonger, quite the contrary. He was the kind of man who always looked out for the underdog. We had fought every day for almost a year just to survive. We went days with no food, and managed to live off the land, the animals, and the sea. And now we were going to fight to live one more hour, one more day. This was not yet the day to die.

The San Ignacio tried to pull away from the British frigate, but there were too many lines holding us, including the main mast. First Officer Ormazábal called out to the crew to cut the lines holding us. I took the sword in my hand and started hacking at the ropes that bound us to the British. I used the last of my strength hacking at them, one, and then another.

The San Ignacio was one boat deck higher than the frigate, which gave us a height and angle advantage to the British. They would have to shoot and fight up, where we could fire down on then. With the crew working together, we cut enough lines so that the San Ignacio started to pull away. As this happened, the main mast started to tear away from the British ship and pulling it to port thirty degrees. For now, this meant the British could no longer fire their main guns at us due to their angle in the water. As the frigate rolled onto its side, it exposed its main upper deck to the San Ignacio’s few surviving guns. Ormazábal saw this and acted swiftly. He ordered the gun crews to fire when ready.

The San Ignacio opened up with our last eleven guns. The cannonballs slammed into the hull of the frigate. One found its mark and hit one of the powder magazines that held the ship’s gunpowder. It exploded, ripping through the ship, lifting part of the main deck as it did. The blast knocked me to the deck. The heat alone was like facing a wall of fire. In an instant, it was all over for the British ship. Sailors started to jump over the side of the frigate, into the sea. The ships pulled apart, and as we broke free, the frigate righted itself, but it was too late. She was dying, and nothing would save her or her crew. The ship continued to burn as it drifted away from us.

The last surviving British soldiers who had boarded the San Ignacio were killed or gave up, knowing there was no way to win.

I lay there on the deck, surrounded by blood and death. There was no cheering, only the sound of fire and cries for help. Jacob came to me, bleeding profusely.

“Are you all right?” he called.

I lay there, not knowing what to say. I was lucky to be breathing.

Then I spotted Keara, covered in blood. She was stumbling toward us. Jacob went to her.

“Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”

She just stood there, not saying a word.

“Keara, look at me! Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think this is my blood.”

Jacob started to look her over to see if there were any visible wounds.

Tom made his way over to us. “Are you all right?” he yelled.

“Look at Keara and see if she’s hurt.”

Tom asked, “Where are Kim and Andy?”

“Andy is down over there. Trinity, can you move?”

“Yes.” I slowly got up, and we made our way over to Andy. He was facedown. We turned him over and saw he had taken a shot to the right shoulder.

“Oh God!” Keara screamed.

“We need to get the lead ball out. If not, he won’t make it,” Jacob said.

“The ship’s doctor can look at him,” Tom said.

“Yeah, right, look around. If we wait for the doctor to look at him, it will be too late. We have to find Kim, I need her help! Trinity, run down and get my Leatherman multi-tool.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

I struggled to my feet, ran across the burning deck, and made my way down the smashed stairs to the lower gun deck, which housed our cabins.

That was when I found Kim. She was crumpled up, her back against the wall. I stopped and went down to her. I stretched my hand out to touch her and brushed the hair away from her face. Her eyes were open, and I knew at that moment that she was gone. A single lead ball fired from a soldier’s gun had hit her in the heart. Lying before her was a young wounded Spanish sailor, maybe sixteen, who she was trying to save the life of; he too was gone from this world. Even in death she tried to help others. This was her magic.

I began to cry uncontrollably. I finally took my hand and wiped her eyes closed. I sat there and continued to cry. I now felt defeated. I couldn’t move. I took her and just held her in my arms. I told her it would be all right.

Jacob came down the stairs looking for me. “Trinity, what’s taking you so long? I need the tool set—” He stopped and just stood there.

“She’s dead,” I said.

Jacob knelt down beside me, speechless. He placed his hand first on Kim’s head and then on mine. He held both of us.

“I’m so sorry!” he cried.

“I know,” I told him. “She’s with Robert now, and I hope in a better place.”

“Trinity…if we are going to save Andy, I need your help.”

“Go. I will be there in a minute. I just need to say good-bye.”

“All right.” He got up and left me to find what he needed.

I held her until Jacob returned from our cabin with the multi-tool, a white shirt, and a bottle of whiskey. “It’s time.”

I gently laid her down on the deck, then stood and walked away for the very last time, wiping the tears from my face.

Jacob and I returned to Andy, Tom, and Keara.

“What took so long?” Keara yelled. She could see I was crying.

“What is it?”

I couldn’t say it. I tried. But Keara knew. She only had to look at my face to know what had happened.

“Oh my God! No, no. Please God, no!”

Jacob knelt next to Andy. He was in and out of consciousness. Jacob used the knife to cut the shirt away around the bullet hole. “Hold him down.”

Tom grabbed hold of Andy.

“Trinity, get over here and help!” Jacob screamed.

I did as he asked.

He opened the bottle of whiskey and poured some directly on the wound. Then he poured it over the multi-tool set. Jacob had opened it up and turned it into needle-nose pliers. “Hold him still.”

Jacob stuck the pliers into the wound and started to dig around.

“Oh my God,” Tom said.

Jacob kept working. Andy screamed and then passed out.

“There it is, got it!” He pulled out a half-inch lead shot round. Jacob then grabbed one of the white shirts he had brought and pressed it up against the wound. “Keara, get down here and press until the bleeding stops.”

Keara quickly did as Jacob had told her.

“Hold it tight! Keep the pressure on.”

Then, and only then, did Jacob stop. He fell back against the side of the ship rail and just sat there. He started to shake. He held his face, but couldn’t stop shaking. I looked at him, and that was when he started to cry. All the events of the day had now come to the point that he could no longer cope. I went to him, and as I did for Kim, I took him and held him in my arms. We continued to cry together.

Through the smoke we saw the Santa Rosa de Lima emerge. She was damaged, but in much better shape than we were. She had managed to fight off the third British frigate, which had now fled.

That night, we took Andy to his cabin and tended to his wound. Jacob and the ship’s doctor examined my leg and bandaged it to avoid any infection.

Tom and Jacob wrapped Kim’s body in some cloth and laid her next to all the others who had perished in the battle. Jacob found a single white rose from the captain’s cabin and placed it on her cloth bag. That night, I slept very little. Between the pain and the images I kept seeing in my mind, I lay there until morning.

September 5, 1740

On this day, we said our good-byes. I stood there on deck, with a leg crutch, as the bodies of the dead were slipped into the sea. First we laid forty-two British to rest. Then we laid 267 Spanish sailors and soldiers to rest. Next was Second Officer Manuel Onchezes, followed by Captain Alonso de Leiva.

Then, just before the sun set, we said our final good-byes to our Chinese princess, Kim Wong. The sailors picked up her body, wrapped in cloth, and placed it on the plank. A friar spoke the same words we had heard over three hundred times, and then her body was lifted and slid into the sea. I tried to run forward to her, but I fell to the deck. I cried. It was like losing her all over again. My close friend I had known for over a decade was now gone. We did everything together. I would never see her smile again, hear her laugh, feel her touch. Jacob came to me, and I started to lash out at him. He grabbed me and held me as tight as he could.

That night, no one had many words. When Andy woke up, I told him what had happened. He lay there while I held his hand. He closed his eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Later, I lay with Jacob by my side. There were no words between us. We just lay there quietly, reliving it all.

The ship was under way again. We were hoping to make Havana in four or five days, under half sail.

September 6, 1740

That morning, as I was gathering Kim’s belongings, I stopped and looked at her iPhone. Just four days ago, I had snapped a photo of her on the ship when none of the crew was watching. She was wearing a soft yellow dress,(the same one she wore the night we played for Don Carlos), a feather hat, and carried a blue parasol. She had this bright smile and seemed very happy. That was how I wanted to remember her. I bumped the photo from her phone to mine, so that I could always look back at it. I then took all her belongings—her rings, necklace, and phone—and wrapped them in a clean white cloth, then carefully placed them in a tattered plastic bag that I hoped would protect them until we someday returned them to the future.