The waves crashed against the side of the wooden frigate, making walking difficult for most of the crew. Captain Horne had seen worse weather, and trusted his men to get their jobs done. He stubbornly refused to turn the vessel into the oncoming waves to lessen their effect despite the complains from the less experienced. It was important to get proper sea-legs and this was nearly the ideal situation.
They were a few minutes from shore and were unlikely to get lost or turned around in the storm. Pirate attacks were down at that time of year as the taxes from the far off colonies were already paid and it was in between harvests of the more valuable crops. The only boats still sailing were balancing out local supplies and ferrying the richer residents around. The HMS Barnacle had just dropped off their last delivery of both of those things and was headed home to San Derocas.
The storm had come up suddenly, but Captain Horne had warned his men just over a half our before. He kept some fairly expensive meteorological equipment on board, and made a habit of checking it fastidiously.
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The pirate crew plowed bow first into the waves, tacking up the coast and into the worst of the storm. Captain Heele was a greenhorn and the conditions made him feel uneasy and slightly nauseous. He felt brave crashing through the walls of water, despite it being the safest way to get through the storm. The only thing less brave was going into port at the first sign of wind. That was something he wanted to do, but he was too inexperienced to navigate in the chaos of the squall.
The shore was close, almost too close for comfort and his men didn’t know if there were any reefs in the area. Pickings were slim and they were too new to the area to know why. Captain Heele had heard tales of ships laden with gold coins to pay the Kings and Queens of the Old World, but had arrived too late to meet them. Chatter along the coast talked about exotic crops of rare plants, but raids failed to find anything but the small remains of last year’s harvest.
In the crows nest they spotted a ship up ahead that seemed to be floundering in the storm. They headed toward it in reckless abandon, raising the black flag that was the universal symbol for pirates.
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Captain Horne laughed when he heard the news. A ship of thieving scoundrels was headed directly for them, intent on some nefarious plan he thought. Quickly he checked his instruments and the prevailing winds. Just as quickly he suddenly doubted there was a plan to this undertaking. Only greed and overconfidence would drive anyone to attack during a storm from that direction and angle. He calmly went to the wheel of the ship and instructed half of his crew to prepare the starboard cannons, but to leave the doors closed till the last moment. The other half of the crew was to put on a show of being unprepared for the storm and to stumble around on deck.
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Captain Heele looked through the spyglass and smiled an evil smile. He was going to capture the ship, which he recognized as the HMS Barnacle from the figurehead, without a fight. He continued to think that right until the ship in question opened up the starboard cannon doors and broadsided them. All eight cannons hit squarely on his ship’s bow, the blast ripping it apart. As the next wave hit the pirate ship it filled their hold with seawater and sank it like a stone.
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