The men of the ship came and went over the years, and instead of
exploring, we turned to a terrible business. Changes were made in the
hold, and we carried a cargo of people—kidnapped souls—from one
country to others. What a dismal time! The captives’ anguish over-
whelmed the ship like a flood of fouled water. There seemed no joy in
running the waves; the very sun dimmed. The deck hands began to dis-
trust the ocean and one another. They skittered nervously between their
chores and their bunks.
“Listen to the masts, listen to the ship,” the men whispered. “They
groan and lament as if we are doomed.” And it seemed so. The cur-
rents disappeared for a time, as if they wanted to punish us, to leave us
forever in these silent, stifling doldrums. One frightened sailor, praying
and crying in the dark, crammed a religious medal deep into a slit he
had cut in my side.
But with a new owner, we became a merchant ship. Now we carried
goods between the New World and Asia and Europe—sometimes cot-
ton, sometimes pepper and cinnamon, sometimes gold. I stood proud
once again. As the mainmast, I still had a view of the world fore and
aft. The old “salts” often sang sea chanteys as they worked; some
played the hornpipe in their spare time. People cheered when
we hove into the harbors, bringing them their fortunes.
Tragedy hit us on a relaxed, sunny day. We spied a
quicker ship flying the skull and crossbones on its black
flag. “Look sharp, they have cannons!” cried our men.
Approaching rapidly, the ship fired upon us. One
of the cannonballs hit me low and broke my hold on
the ship. The men scrambled frantically to keep the
sails up so we could escape. But it was no use. Savage
pirates boarded us and attacked wildly, slashing andTHEHOLD IS
THE SHIP’S
CARGO AREA
BELOWDECKS.OLDSALTS ARE OLDER
AND MORE EXPERIENCED
SAILORS.
36