Araminta Ross continued, “Something’s afoot alright, but especially just here at the northern border. Or do you really think that the King Jesus just happened to be in the neighbourhood?” Captain Ross narrowed her eyes. “We’ve been playing hide-and-seek with them for weeks. Wish I knew what they are up to.”
“You know the Cherokee don’t like to volunteer information to outsiders. I doubt they’ll say anything more to me than to you.”
“You just use some of that famous Captain Willie charm on them and see if they don’t warm-up to you.” Captain Ross stood up and offered her right hand. “Good luck to you and your crew.” She waved Captain Willie out of the alcove, taking a notebook out of one of the multitude of pockets on her tunic-dress as she turned away from him.
The tiny man who had guided Captain Willie to Captain Ross’ alcove mysteriously reappeared despite not having been summoned (at least not by any method that Willie knew). Just to break the silence Captain Willie made an attempt at conversation.
“What’s your name and are you doin’ here?”
“This way out,” gestured the small man and turned away. He glanced back over his shoulder and said, “They call me Little James. Come on now! Down this latter.”
“This ain’t the same way we came in.”
“No, it’s quicker. We’ve outa here as soon as you are off this airship.”
After navigating a bewildering maze of bulkheads, cargo nets hanging from the ceiling and boxes containing godknowswhat, Captain Willie was back at the hatch and heading down the rope-ladder.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Repercussions, 1712-1717
"Those who fell victim to the slavers were usually shipped to distant colonies to spend their days laboring for others with no hope of returning to their families and homes. Not that they passively accepted their condition: in several colonies the variously termed "Southern" or "Spanish" or "Carolina" Indians earned a reputation as troublemakers and instigators, leading several provincial governments to bar their importation. Noth that it mattered: in a few years South Carolina so alienated its [Indian] allies that they banned together in a pan-Indian movement that ended the large-scale slaving of native peoples."
(pages 257-258)
Gallay, Alan in The Indian Slave Trade: The Rise of the English Empire in the American South 1670-1717. Yale University Press, 2002.
(pages 257-258)
Gallay, Alan in The Indian Slave Trade: The Rise of the English Empire in the American South 1670-1717. Yale University Press, 2002.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Captain Ross
The small man guided Captain Willie across the deck and into a tiny alcove behind a hanging curtain where Captain Ross was waiting for him.
Araminta Ross was a no-nonsense woman and this fact showed in her clothing as well. Her hair was neatly confined by a mustard-yellow printed cotton scarf. Her tunic-dress buttoned up the front, its rich wine red a complement to her beautiful, brown skin. Her eyes glistened with intelligence as well as a pent-up fierceness. Indeed her tiny stature could hardly contain her enormous presence. She rose from her seat as Captain Willie entered the room (more of a cubbyhole really since even a large airship has limited space) and motioned him towards the only other fold-out chair. It was attached to the wall with hinges and folded-down into a seat when a latch was unhooked.
A crewmember carried in a tray containing dinner for two as well as pewter dishes instead of the more commonplace tin ones used on the Sandflea. He unfolded the legs of the tray so that it formed a little table and placed it between the two captains. Dinner consisted of a stew of pork, rice, black-eyed peas and celery seasoned with vinegar and hot pepper.
“I thought you might appreciate a hot meal and a chance to catch your breath.”
Captain Ross ate her dinner quickly and methodically in contrast to Captain Willie who savoured every bite of a good meal. She glanced down at her empty plate and patted her lips with a napkin.
“What was your man carrying?”
Willie shrugged. “Just timetables and such for goods drop-off, mostly saltpetre. Old Toby is a stoner dude but he’s usually able to get across the border without being caught. After reporting in to the Border Station we’re on our way down to Charleston for major maintenance and looking to add some additional crew members.”
“Watch yourself and don’t even think about flying anywhere near the border. Those Virginians will be watching and waiting for you to slip-up. A rogue air current blows you off course and next thing you know, you are far enough into Virginia that they have the excuse they need to blow you out of the sky!”
“I know what I’m doin’,” answered Captain Willie mildly.
“Oh, I am certain that you do!” chuckled Captain Ross. “I’ve heard more than a few tales about you and your crew.”
Captain Willie just smiled, albeit a bit smugly.
Araminta Ross was a no-nonsense woman and this fact showed in her clothing as well. Her hair was neatly confined by a mustard-yellow printed cotton scarf. Her tunic-dress buttoned up the front, its rich wine red a complement to her beautiful, brown skin. Her eyes glistened with intelligence as well as a pent-up fierceness. Indeed her tiny stature could hardly contain her enormous presence. She rose from her seat as Captain Willie entered the room (more of a cubbyhole really since even a large airship has limited space) and motioned him towards the only other fold-out chair. It was attached to the wall with hinges and folded-down into a seat when a latch was unhooked.
A crewmember carried in a tray containing dinner for two as well as pewter dishes instead of the more commonplace tin ones used on the Sandflea. He unfolded the legs of the tray so that it formed a little table and placed it between the two captains. Dinner consisted of a stew of pork, rice, black-eyed peas and celery seasoned with vinegar and hot pepper.
“I thought you might appreciate a hot meal and a chance to catch your breath.”
Captain Ross ate her dinner quickly and methodically in contrast to Captain Willie who savoured every bite of a good meal. She glanced down at her empty plate and patted her lips with a napkin.
“What was your man carrying?”
Willie shrugged. “Just timetables and such for goods drop-off, mostly saltpetre. Old Toby is a stoner dude but he’s usually able to get across the border without being caught. After reporting in to the Border Station we’re on our way down to Charleston for major maintenance and looking to add some additional crew members.”
“Watch yourself and don’t even think about flying anywhere near the border. Those Virginians will be watching and waiting for you to slip-up. A rogue air current blows you off course and next thing you know, you are far enough into Virginia that they have the excuse they need to blow you out of the sky!”
“I know what I’m doin’,” answered Captain Willie mildly.
“Oh, I am certain that you do!” chuckled Captain Ross. “I’ve heard more than a few tales about you and your crew.”
Captain Willie just smiled, albeit a bit smugly.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Aboard the King Jesus
With the US airship safely out of Carolina airspace, the captains of the two CFS airships could meet in person. Captain Willie climbed down the rope ladder extending from the forward hatch. While still hanging onto the ladder, he fired his grapple gun at the matching rope ladder hanging from the King Jesus. One of the hooks caught the rope and in a flash he had pulled it over. Through a series of deft acrobatic moves worthy of a master trapeze artist, he transferred himself onto the King Jesus’ ladder and scrambled up it and into the open hatch. He was fit and strong and could easily pull himself through its opening.
Once onboard, Captain Willie was met by a small, dark man with an enormous set of dreads sprouting in all directions. He had enormous pearl earings in each ear as well as a gold incisor that flashed when he spoke. Captain Willie’s ensemble was scarcely less colourful since he was wearing his usual get-up of purple trousers, a brightly patterned paisley silk shirt and brocade vest. In contrast to the colourfulness of the rest of his attire, his Indian-made moccasins were quite conservative. Their soft, flexible soles were more suited to climbing rope ladders. In contrast to his flamboyant greeter, his head was clean-shaven and he wore no jewelry.
The tiny man viewed Captain Willie somewhat suspiciously.
“Captain Ross wants to talk with you.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.” Willie grimaced to himself. Why state the obvious?
“Let’s get on with it then.”
As they climbed the metal ladder to the command deck, Captain Willie had plenty of time to reflect on the differences between the rough and tumble ship he captained and the fleet’s flagship. Naturally the ship was larger, although it was still quite crowded due to the supplies she carried as well as having a larger crew.
Once onboard, Captain Willie was met by a small, dark man with an enormous set of dreads sprouting in all directions. He had enormous pearl earings in each ear as well as a gold incisor that flashed when he spoke. Captain Willie’s ensemble was scarcely less colourful since he was wearing his usual get-up of purple trousers, a brightly patterned paisley silk shirt and brocade vest. In contrast to the colourfulness of the rest of his attire, his Indian-made moccasins were quite conservative. Their soft, flexible soles were more suited to climbing rope ladders. In contrast to his flamboyant greeter, his head was clean-shaven and he wore no jewelry.
The tiny man viewed Captain Willie somewhat suspiciously.
“Captain Ross wants to talk with you.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.” Willie grimaced to himself. Why state the obvious?
“Let’s get on with it then.”
As they climbed the metal ladder to the command deck, Captain Willie had plenty of time to reflect on the differences between the rough and tumble ship he captained and the fleet’s flagship. Naturally the ship was larger, although it was still quite crowded due to the supplies she carried as well as having a larger crew.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Stand-off
“Now we’re gonna see some shit” muttered Captain Willie.
“Your intrusion into Carolina airspace is provocative. Leave now! Remain and you will be committing an act of deliberate aggression.” Even distorted by the megaphone, the menace in Captain Ross’ voice was undeniable.
The US airship was a heavy cruiser but the King Jesus was a full-fledged battleship. Her grapple guns were supplemented by two Belgian mitrailleuse guns, on mounted on either side of her bow. The crew of the Sandflea held their collective breath. The King Jesus held its position above the much smaller Sandflea. Captain Araminta Ross was not bluffing!
There was silence for several long minutes as the 3 airships bobbed slightly in the airstream. Soon the sun would rise high enough to dissipate the morning mist. Meanwhile, the captain of the US airship apparently reached a decision. Without any more discussion the airship slowly rotated as her thrusters on the port side released a burst of steam while the starboard thrusters remained silent. After doing a somewhat ponderous 180 degree turn she rose majestically into the air, no doubt in order to avoid the unpredictable gusts of wind that could bash her against the rock face.
Suddenly the tension was broken by a sea of voices.
“That woman is crazy. What does she think she’s doing, taking that big ole warship this far into the mountains? What’s she gonna do next?” Willie’s tone of voice betrayed his admiration for Araminta Ross even as he voiced scepticism of her judgement.
“I don’t care who she thinks she is, she’ll get us all killed with her antics.”
“She knows what she is doing. Remember, Captain Ross was enslaved by these people and knows how they think. They’d see the slightest sign of compromise as a sign of weakness.”
“Your intrusion into Carolina airspace is provocative. Leave now! Remain and you will be committing an act of deliberate aggression.” Even distorted by the megaphone, the menace in Captain Ross’ voice was undeniable.
The US airship was a heavy cruiser but the King Jesus was a full-fledged battleship. Her grapple guns were supplemented by two Belgian mitrailleuse guns, on mounted on either side of her bow. The crew of the Sandflea held their collective breath. The King Jesus held its position above the much smaller Sandflea. Captain Araminta Ross was not bluffing!
There was silence for several long minutes as the 3 airships bobbed slightly in the airstream. Soon the sun would rise high enough to dissipate the morning mist. Meanwhile, the captain of the US airship apparently reached a decision. Without any more discussion the airship slowly rotated as her thrusters on the port side released a burst of steam while the starboard thrusters remained silent. After doing a somewhat ponderous 180 degree turn she rose majestically into the air, no doubt in order to avoid the unpredictable gusts of wind that could bash her against the rock face.
Suddenly the tension was broken by a sea of voices.
“That woman is crazy. What does she think she’s doing, taking that big ole warship this far into the mountains? What’s she gonna do next?” Willie’s tone of voice betrayed his admiration for Araminta Ross even as he voiced scepticism of her judgement.
“I don’t care who she thinks she is, she’ll get us all killed with her antics.”
“She knows what she is doing. Remember, Captain Ross was enslaved by these people and knows how they think. They’d see the slightest sign of compromise as a sign of weakness.”
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Border-crossing chapter 3
There was a hue and a cry on the ground in the direction from which the Sandflea had just come. The Patrollers tracking Old Toby had now come to the clearing where he’d intercepted the Sandflea. Since there was no sign that he’d continued further along the ground, the logical place to search for him was the sky. They flashed their lanterns in patterns that were no doubt meant to attract the attention of one of their border patrol airships.
Captain Willie had hoped that the prevailing wind would blow them to the west, thus allowing them to float back towards Carolina and over the border in near silence. This trick had worked well in the past but this time their luck was not so good. The crew of the Sandflea could hear the sound of propellers, still in the distance, but no doubt coming to investigate.
“Shit!” yelled Old Toby, “They’re onto us. We gotta get outta here now!”
Captain Willie grunted to himself. “Maybe we just hand you over to them and then the matter is closed.”
“Kennia, secure our “guest” and his packages,” snapped Tira. This will be a very interesting ride and we don’t want anything getting damaged. At least not anything worth a damn.” She looked pointedly at Old Toby.
He took the hint and scrambled towards the sleeping area in the back section of the ship. This section was hardly large enough or comfortable enough to call by the name crew quarters but it was the closest to such that she had. Old Toby hopped more than climbed into one of the lowest hanging hammocks and pulled the safety straps tight over his torso.
Meanwhile, back in the Engine Room, Captain Willie took the wheel while Kennia slipped the bundles of papers into canvas pockets attached to the cabin wall.
“Dump ballast!” shouted Captain Willie. “Try to rise over this next ridge. Then we can descend again and play a bit of hide and seek.” Slipping between rock formations and dodging attempts to capture her was an old trick for the crew of the Sandflea. Normally, though, she would be carrying her engineer and at least one gunner in addition to the captain, Tira and Kennia. What a time to be short-handed!
If the border patrol airship managed to overtake the Sandflea, it could easily grapple and board her. Because the Sandflea specialized in stealth, she was not heavily armed. That didn’t mean she didn’t have more than a few surprises for anyone who might try boarding her!
Evasive manoeuvres is a relative term for an airship. Even the most lightweight craft is ponderous in its movements. The Sandflea had propellers and retractable airfins. Ideally, though, her crew used a combination of her thrusters and airfins to steer her movements subtly. The airfins were not only retractable but could also be manipulated by a series of levers to function in much the same manner as a fish’s fins. With a skilled hand at the controls the Sandflea could glide through the air almost as effectively as a fish in water.
The air currents in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains were tricky. They could provide lift but could just as easily fling the airship against a cliff. In fact this close to the mountain range, Captain Willie would have preferred a much gentler flight plan! The Sandflea lofted over the ridges on the up currents, her captain’s hands and feet working the complex set of levers, knobs and foot pedals that controlled her like a true master. The Sandflea was small and her captain was highly skilled at evasive manoeuvring but she didn’t have the engine-power behind her propellers that the larger patrol ship had. Sooner, rather than later, it would catch-up with her and capture her.
The Virginia Border Patrol cruiser had a more powerful engine than the little Sandflea but her captain and crew weren’t nearly as experienced in stealth tactics. The warships usual tactic was, as with her maritime counterparts, to draw alongside her opponents and bombard them with her cannons until they surrendered and could be boarded. Worse case scenario, the cannons blew the other ship out of the sky. Hide and seek wasn’t her forté. Still she was gaining on the smaller airship.
Onboard the Sandflea Kennia handed out parachutes to the other crew members and told them, “If we go down and survive the crash, everyone head off in a different direction. The Cherokee will send a patrol to investigate the crash. Hopefully at least one of us will intercept them and can report what happened.”
Back in the crew quarters, unable to see what was happening, Old Toby was gripping this mesh of his hammock until his knuckles were way past being white even though he’d already tightened the straps that held him in until he was practically immobilised.
At the controls Captain Willie muttered curses under his breath.
The other ship was almost within grappling range, assuming that her captain wished to take the crew alive. A few well-aimed shots and their lives would be forfeit. Worst case scenario would be a hit to the airbags. Aside from the gas leaking out and the ship losing buoyancy, the hydrogen contained in them was highly flammable. Airships were too valuable to destroy unnecessarily, though. Better to capture an airship by shooting grapples at the hull and reeling her in, much as in whale hunting.
Suddenly a massive shape arose out of the morning mist. It was a heavy cruiser and her gunports were wide-open!
The captain of the new ship shouted through a megaphone, “This is Captain Araminta Ross of the CFS King Jesus. You have crossed into Carolina. Begone quickly or we will open fire!”
“Captain Ross, we did not intend to intrude into Carolina territory. We are pursuing criminals and wish only to apprehend them and return them to our justice. Hand them over and this problem will be resolved!” shouted the other ship’s captain in response.
“Unacceptable!” was the only answer. The King Jesus glided forward over the much smaller Sandflea like a mother bear protecting her cubs.
(Next chapter: Stand off)
Captain Willie had hoped that the prevailing wind would blow them to the west, thus allowing them to float back towards Carolina and over the border in near silence. This trick had worked well in the past but this time their luck was not so good. The crew of the Sandflea could hear the sound of propellers, still in the distance, but no doubt coming to investigate.
“Shit!” yelled Old Toby, “They’re onto us. We gotta get outta here now!”
Captain Willie grunted to himself. “Maybe we just hand you over to them and then the matter is closed.”
“Kennia, secure our “guest” and his packages,” snapped Tira. This will be a very interesting ride and we don’t want anything getting damaged. At least not anything worth a damn.” She looked pointedly at Old Toby.
He took the hint and scrambled towards the sleeping area in the back section of the ship. This section was hardly large enough or comfortable enough to call by the name crew quarters but it was the closest to such that she had. Old Toby hopped more than climbed into one of the lowest hanging hammocks and pulled the safety straps tight over his torso.
Meanwhile, back in the Engine Room, Captain Willie took the wheel while Kennia slipped the bundles of papers into canvas pockets attached to the cabin wall.
“Dump ballast!” shouted Captain Willie. “Try to rise over this next ridge. Then we can descend again and play a bit of hide and seek.” Slipping between rock formations and dodging attempts to capture her was an old trick for the crew of the Sandflea. Normally, though, she would be carrying her engineer and at least one gunner in addition to the captain, Tira and Kennia. What a time to be short-handed!
If the border patrol airship managed to overtake the Sandflea, it could easily grapple and board her. Because the Sandflea specialized in stealth, she was not heavily armed. That didn’t mean she didn’t have more than a few surprises for anyone who might try boarding her!
Evasive manoeuvres is a relative term for an airship. Even the most lightweight craft is ponderous in its movements. The Sandflea had propellers and retractable airfins. Ideally, though, her crew used a combination of her thrusters and airfins to steer her movements subtly. The airfins were not only retractable but could also be manipulated by a series of levers to function in much the same manner as a fish’s fins. With a skilled hand at the controls the Sandflea could glide through the air almost as effectively as a fish in water.
The air currents in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains were tricky. They could provide lift but could just as easily fling the airship against a cliff. In fact this close to the mountain range, Captain Willie would have preferred a much gentler flight plan! The Sandflea lofted over the ridges on the up currents, her captain’s hands and feet working the complex set of levers, knobs and foot pedals that controlled her like a true master. The Sandflea was small and her captain was highly skilled at evasive manoeuvring but she didn’t have the engine-power behind her propellers that the larger patrol ship had. Sooner, rather than later, it would catch-up with her and capture her.
The Virginia Border Patrol cruiser had a more powerful engine than the little Sandflea but her captain and crew weren’t nearly as experienced in stealth tactics. The warships usual tactic was, as with her maritime counterparts, to draw alongside her opponents and bombard them with her cannons until they surrendered and could be boarded. Worse case scenario, the cannons blew the other ship out of the sky. Hide and seek wasn’t her forté. Still she was gaining on the smaller airship.
Onboard the Sandflea Kennia handed out parachutes to the other crew members and told them, “If we go down and survive the crash, everyone head off in a different direction. The Cherokee will send a patrol to investigate the crash. Hopefully at least one of us will intercept them and can report what happened.”
Back in the crew quarters, unable to see what was happening, Old Toby was gripping this mesh of his hammock until his knuckles were way past being white even though he’d already tightened the straps that held him in until he was practically immobilised.
At the controls Captain Willie muttered curses under his breath.
The other ship was almost within grappling range, assuming that her captain wished to take the crew alive. A few well-aimed shots and their lives would be forfeit. Worst case scenario would be a hit to the airbags. Aside from the gas leaking out and the ship losing buoyancy, the hydrogen contained in them was highly flammable. Airships were too valuable to destroy unnecessarily, though. Better to capture an airship by shooting grapples at the hull and reeling her in, much as in whale hunting.
Suddenly a massive shape arose out of the morning mist. It was a heavy cruiser and her gunports were wide-open!
The captain of the new ship shouted through a megaphone, “This is Captain Araminta Ross of the CFS King Jesus. You have crossed into Carolina. Begone quickly or we will open fire!”
“Captain Ross, we did not intend to intrude into Carolina territory. We are pursuing criminals and wish only to apprehend them and return them to our justice. Hand them over and this problem will be resolved!” shouted the other ship’s captain in response.
“Unacceptable!” was the only answer. The King Jesus glided forward over the much smaller Sandflea like a mother bear protecting her cubs.
(Next chapter: Stand off)
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Character sketch: Old Toby
Old Toby was a bit of a mystery. No one knew much of anything for certain about his background and no one really wanted to know either. He had always been known as Old Toby although his age could have been anywhere between 35-60. His skin might have been a dusty grey-brown, aged from years of exposure, but that might simply have been the result of going at least 20 years without bathing. Kennia wondered sometimes what would happen if he were suddenly thrust under a spigot. He would probably dissolve she figured. Certainly his clothing would since the dirt was about all that held the garments together.
His slouch hat was some indeterminate shade of green-grey-brown with lank, greasy strands of black and grey streaked hair hanging out from under it. The collar to his oversized buckskin jacket turned up to meet his hat while his boots came up to the jacket’s bottom fringe. Old Toby radiated a certain odour of stale ganja smoke. This was hardly surprising since ganja was his preferred payment for services rendered. These services were numerous and varied and many may have been of questionable legality although Old Toby insisted that he had never done time in prison.
His slouch hat was some indeterminate shade of green-grey-brown with lank, greasy strands of black and grey streaked hair hanging out from under it. The collar to his oversized buckskin jacket turned up to meet his hat while his boots came up to the jacket’s bottom fringe. Old Toby radiated a certain odour of stale ganja smoke. This was hardly surprising since ganja was his preferred payment for services rendered. These services were numerous and varied and many may have been of questionable legality although Old Toby insisted that he had never done time in prison.
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