|
To
Blackbeard's mind, and that of his good wife, Mary Ormond, there way of life
was no worse, and possibly better than the English pirates of which he was
one, a privateer. But he did not cotton to slavery and slave trading. The
couple believed the organized manner of such trade was a crime like no
other. To routinely cash in on the lives of free humans in a triangular
trade of which the Devil could not have bested. He waged war on those
British Kings and Queens, to his last dying breath. Fighting for the freedom
of African and other native captives. Possibly, one of the most
misunderstood human rights activists in history.
The South Sea Company (officially: The Governor and Company of the merchants of Great Britain, trading to the South Seas and other parts of America, and for the encouragement of the Fishery) was a British joint-stock company founded in January 1711, created as a public-private partnership to consolidate and reduce the cost of the national debt. To generate income, in 1713 the company was granted a monopoly (the Asiento de Negros) to supply African slaves to the islands in the "South Seas" and South America.
When Queen Anne died in 1714, all bets were off. Blackbeard no longer had
faith in any British good intentions. His wife, Mary, was never captured and
continued to preach against anti-slavery.
<<<
PROLOGUE
Ah,
Blackbeard - one of history’s most infamous pirates, and a man who certainly knew how to make a statement. His
earlier ship, Queen Anne’s
Revenge, was originally a French vessel named La Concorde, which he captured in 1717. The name itself likely reflected his allegiance to the Jacobite cause, which supported the Stuart
monarchy - Queen Anne being the last Stuart ruler. Some historians speculate that Blackbeard may have fought in Queen Anne’s War (1702–1713) as a privateer, which could have influenced his choice of name.
As for revenge against the British, Blackbeard didn’t wage a personal vendetta in the way one might imagine. Instead, he terrorized British and colonial ships, blockaded ports, and built a fearsome reputation that made him nearly untouchable. His most infamous act was the blockade of Charleston, South Carolina, in 1718, where he held the city hostage in exchange for medical supplies. However, his reign of terror was short-lived—later that year, he was hunted down and killed by British naval forces.
So, while Queen Anne’s Revenge wasn’t necessarily a direct act of vengeance, it was certainly a symbolic name that reflected Blackbeard’s loyalties and ambitions. Less a ruthless villain, more a cunning strategist.
As if Blackbeard had anticipated his capture, he orchestrated devious contingency plans. Historically, Edward Teach was known for psychological warfare—his dramatic use of slow-burning fuses in his beard, the exaggerated tales of his cruelty, and his ability to manipulate fear.
Where he fore saw his downfall coming, he embedded hidden traps for his captors,
leaving behind cryptic clues leading to revenge-seeking allies. Coded messages in his logs would signal his crew to rise up after his demise.
He sewed the seeds, the infamous stories of his buried gold wasn’t just
about treasure - it was bait, luring unsuspecting hunters into perilous waters where his ghostly vengeance
would wait.
Blackbeard, was less of a doomed pirate and more of a mastermind playing the long
game - a pirate who ensured that even after death, the world would remember his wrath.
This would be Blackbeard’s Last Laugh.
THE
NINETEEN OF NOVEMBER 1718
The
notorious pirate, Blackbeard, had been splitting his booty with the Governor
of Virginia for some time, but Alexander
Spotswood wanted more, to fund his
empire building plans for the Colony. He knew Edward Teach had a significant
stash from his loose talk when lubricated on rum. Though, he'd never managed
to elicit the exact location, he knew it was tucked away on an island
frequented by other privateers, the clue to where was marked on a parchment,
in a chest, that Blackbeard kept close to him at all times. The island would
be out of the way, and somewhat off the beaten track for the black hearted brethren
who sailed under a Jolly Roger. None the wiser, and not caring, so long as
the rum flowed and women danced, in proportion to the doubloons and pieces
of eight, their captains so amply provided.
A
plan was hatched, based on Blackbeard's escape route and known tactics,
Spotwade double crossing his partner. The legendary pirate's skill and
daring would be his undoing.
On
the 19th of November 1718, Lieutenant Robert
Maynard was given the command of two
sloops, the 'Ranger' and 'Jane.'
"Remember
the plan," said Spotswood to Maynard, on the dockside of Hampton.
"It's
ingrained in my brain. Fear ye not." And with that 'Jane' and 'Ranger'
upped anchor and hoisted their sails. Slowly, catching the wind, and picking
up speed, as they headed to Pamlico Sound.
Rarely mentioned in the very many accounts of the battle at Ocracoke is how
it came to be that Maynard and the other volunteer sailors from the British
King’s ships stationed in Virginia, were persuaded to accept the deadly assignment of apprehending or killing the North Carolina pirates.
It was the irresistible prospect of acquiring an abundant pirate treasure
so vast in one lifetime as to be unimaginable. It must be said that the
sixty or so men aboard the two, small, rented vessels under Maynard’s command, were
hardly better than the pirates they were hunting.
Lt.
Maynard caught up with Blackbeard at
Ocracoke Inlet off the coast of North Carolina on 22 November 1718.
True to the intelligences Spotswood had furnished, most of Blackbeard's men were
ashore in various taverns, for a weekend of carousing. This factor was
crucial for Spotswood's plan to succeed.
Maynard out-gunned and out-numbered the
pirates three to
one in small-arms. But his ship had no cannons, while Blackbeard's Adventure
was thought to have up to eight cannons, considerably less than on the Queen
Anne's Revenge, that was scuppered by Teach at the Beaufort Inlet, Bar
of Topsail-Inlet, North Carolina on June 10th, after blockading Charleston
Harbour, some five plus months earlier. In refusing the Governor's offer of
the King's Pardon, the pirate had painted a target on his head. He was a
marked man and no mistake. Foolish he was in trusting a crooked politician.
Maynard hid most of his men below
decks, to lure Blackbeard in for a boarding. Initially, Blackbeard had his ship go to shallower water. Maynard's heavier ship hit a sand-bar and was stuck. Blackbeard then
maneuvered his ship to fire a broadside at Maynard's ship.
"We're
stuck men, like a turkey shoot. Fish in a barrel. Look lively now and throw
all inessentials to combat overboard."
The
band of gold hungry sailors responded at great speed. Just about everything
not bolted down was ejected. And eventually the Jane was freed, but not
before Blackbeard, aboard Adventure had fired another two broadsides on
Maynard. Inflicting heavy losses. He was a skilled sailor first and
foremost.
Maynard
rounded on the 'Jane' ramming the Adventure amidships. Blackbeard not quite
understanding the tactics in the heat of battle, saw Jane's decks bereft of
fighting men. He took this to mean the cannon pounding had succeeded, and a
boarding would ensure capture, of what he believed to be another merchant
ship at first. This was a fine start to a Saturday weekend morning.
Blackbeard
ordered grappling irons to pull the Adventure closer to the Jane. Maynard's
plan was sprung and working well. All the Navy men had to do was play dead
for a while longer, then call for their ship mates below, like a spider's
web catching a fly.
"Grappling
irons mates, lets pull her closer and tie us in." Ordered Blackbeard.
In
reply, shots fired from the deck of the Jane, hitting two of Teach's men.
But his crew returned fire, taking down four of those on the deck of the
Jane. Fewer to overcome by the boarding party.
Thus
emboldened, Blackbeard bellowed: "Now to it me hearties," as he
swung from the Adventure to the Jane. A knife in his teeth, and shock of
black hair trailing wisps of smoke, to strike fear into those about to be
savaged. His crew duly chased their leader, hearts beating loud, as the red
blood of battle coursed through their veins. But there was nothing to
strike. The few men on deck threw down their weapons.
"Wise
ye be," called Blackbeard, daring any reprisals with his fearsome
appearance. "Catch up those arms lads. Let's not fuse a foolish
heart."
Blackbeard
saw Maynard as the biggest built and best attired. "Bind this
fellow." The pirate moved to weigh up other opposition, and satisfied
there would be none from the scrawny offerings before him. Rested for a
moment. A moment that would cost him dear.
The
whole encounter at sea had lasted just twenty minutes. Then Maynard gave a
pre-arranged signal, and suddenly thirty men swarmed from below decks,
engaging in hand to hand combat, with many pistol shots fired. The swordplay
was savage on both sides. Then Blackbeard rounded on Robert
Maynard. The two
coming together with equal gusto. Maynard proved to be an expert swordsman. Blackbeard's cutlass was no match for the precision of the
Royal Navy
officer's blade.
Blackbeard
was shot, once, twice, but this did not slow him. Maynard inflicted cut
after cut with his sword.
"Don't
kill him," said the Lieutenant to his men, as more shots were fired.
"We need what is in this scoundrel's head."
"So
tell me, Mr Edward Thatch, where is your booty?" With this Maynard cut
Blackbeard twice more with his blade.
"This
ship is too small."
"Aye,
that it be," said Blackbeard, giving his most evil grin."
"Then
where. Tell me and I'll spare you and your crew?" Maynard hit out
again, but Blackbeard struck Maynard, drawing blood from his right leg.
Maynard
responded with a thrust to Blackbeard's left arm. Blood gushing from the
wound.
"It'll
do you no good, fancy as you are with that steel."
Maynard
lost it momentarily, letting loose another pistol shot. This caught
Blackbeard in the side, taking out a rib. He knew he was done for. His men
were dropping all around him, the deck awash with blood, much of it his own.
"The
secret goes with me to the Devil and my grave. I curse you, your crew and
kin." With this, Blackbeard charged Maynard, cutting him fiercely with
his cutlass. To no avail. Maynard dealt him a death blow to the neck, as he
pushed the pirate down, and Edward Teach dropped to the deck, mortally
wounded.
Maynard
pressed forward, twisting his blade in Blackbeard's right arm. Despite the excruciating
pain, Blackbeard just laughed. "Dead
men tell no tales." He fell silent, blood pumping from his neck
wound. Then the blood stopped gushing. Blackbeard was dead.
The
remaining pirates threw down their weapons. Without their fearsome leader,
they had no chance and no plan.
"Bind
the prisoners men," ordered the Navy Lieutenant, as he headed for
Blackbeard's cabin. "We'll question them later."
Maynard searched in the roundhouse of the 65-foot-long Jamaica-rigged sloop.
Surely the world’s best-known and most-feared pirate captain kept a chest of
Spanish
gold, silver pieces
of eight and jewels hidden beneath his bunk, just for his walkin’ around
money.
The
Spanish stole from the Aztecs, the British stole from the Spanish. Along the
Gold Coast of Africa, the Royal African Company exploited the river Gambia,
then turned their attention to slavery, to run the plantations that produced
white gold: sugar. Men seemed not to be civilised, shipping some 31,000,000
million people in barbaric slave-ships, across the Atlantic to Caribbean and
US east coast colonies. With such atrocities by Dutch, Portuguese and
British governments, piracy might have seemed relatively tame in the
morality code league tables.
But
there was naught. Just a small bag of gold nuggets for wine and rum. In a
chest there were letters and other documents, the most interesting of which
was a parchment, with directions and measurements, but no name or
coordinates to identify the land mass it applied to.
"Vexed
I am, cursed indeed with frustration. That festering mound of flesh was
right." With that Robert Maynard chopped off Blackbeard's head. He
bagged the offending body part, in a canvass sack. Then counted the gunshot
wounds on the torso, five in all, and cuts to the body, twenty in number.
"The
treasure must be mountainous to warrant such pain. I'll be lucky not to be
court marshaled for my excess, if the Governor is displeased with our
account of this morning. I wonder if Teach's wife will be more
forthcoming."
With
that, Maynard ordered Blackbeard's body thrown over the side, into the deep
blue Atlantic.
THE SEARCH ECHOES OF EMPTINESS
The wind howled in a mournful cadence as Lieutenant Robert Maynard stepped carefully over the threshold of Blackbeard’s long-abandoned cabin. Fifty years had weathered away the scars of the pirate’s reign, yet every creak of the old wood and every whisper of stale air spoke of a past steeped in treachery. Flickering candlelight revealed splintered floorboards and faded nautical charts, a testament to the haunted legacy left behind by the notorious captain. Maynard’s eyes, steeled by duty and dark resolve, roamed every corner—searching for hidden clues or even the ghost of Blackbeard’s cunning smile.
Inside the cramped quarters, the lieutenant’s steady hand lifted a rusted latch and pried open a battered chest. Dust danced in the beam of his lantern as he revealed scraps of salt-stained parchment and faded maps. The markings were cryptic, resembling the riddles of a man who delighted in confounding fools. Yet amid the wreckage, no treasure trove of secret passages or cleverly concealed keys emerged—only the echo of a trickster who had, perhaps, taken his most valuable hint to the very depths of oblivion. “Blast it all,” Maynard muttered under his breath, his disappointment mingling with a grudging admiration for Blackbeard’s artful deceit.
Back aboard the creaking vessel Adventure, a different kind of frenzy had taken hold. The remainder of Maynard’s crew, their hearts aflame with visions of untold riches, descended upon the cargo holds and galley with barely contained excitement. With the clamor of crashing crates and the clatter of shovels, they methodically ransacked every nook and cranny of the ship. They had come armed with dreams of finding hidden caches of treasure, secret compartments bursting with gold doubloons, or perhaps even further inked clues left behind by the legendary pirate himself.
Yet as the day's light waned, the promise of fortune evaporated like mist in the salty air. Barrel after barrel yielded nothing but scattered relics of pilfered supplies—rusting tools, remnants of last week's grog, and the acrid tang of disappointment. In the once-proud galley, the crew’s shouts turned to bitter curses as they unearthed only remnants of burnt biscuits and water-stained crates that whispered of long-forgotten meals. The treasure they had envisioned was naught but an illusion, a baited trap designed to ensnare the greedy and the desperate.
When dusk fell, the crew reconvened on the quarterdeck, faces grim and eyes hollowed by unmet expectation. The irony was not lost on them—the very cabin of the dread pirate had offered no clandestine map nor any hint of riches, and the sacking of the Adventure left nothing more than a void where dreams once thrived. Lieutenant Maynard, emerging from the dim gloom of the cabin, met their downcast stares with a silent acknowledgment of Blackbeard’s cruel humor. The ghost of the infamous captain, it seemed, was content to let his legacy be a labyrinth of dead ends and empty promises.
In that moment, amid the echoing whispers of a defiant sea and the clamor of discontented men, the bitter truth set in: Blackbeard had orchestrated one final, maddening ruse. His hidden secrets were not meant for mortal hands—not tonight, nor perhaps ever. As the waves slapped relentlessly against the ship’s battered hull, Maynard’s gaze turned toward the boundless horizon. The disappointment of the day had stoked a new fire of determination. There was still mystery in the deep, and somewhere out there lay the next piece of a puzzle that Blackbeard had crafted for the ages.
The adventure, it seemed, was far from over. Instead, it had shifted into a game of wits and endurance—a pursuit where every empty chest and silent cabin echoed with the taunting laughter of a pirate who had once ruled the seas. And as the night swallowed the lingering light, the men of the Adventure braced themselves for the morrow—a new day to chase the elusive specter of a treasure that might, just might, unveil the true measure of Blackbeard’s unfathomable cunning.
THE HARBINGER'S HEAD
The storm of betrayal still raged on the high seas. Lieutenant Robert Maynard, his heart festering with anger at the cunning ruse perpetrated by the black-clad, bearded specter of Blackbeard, seethed with indignation. The deception—that empty treasure, a promise unfulfilled, a false hope of the gold hoard—was a wound too deep. Now, with grim determination and a resolve forged in the crucible of loss, he vowed that no pirate’s treachery would be allowed to scar the honor of the British fleet.
Under the pallid light of a waning moon, aboard the battered vessel Adventure, Maynard steeled himself against the bitter disappointment that had stung his soul. The very thought of being cheated by Edward Teach’s infamous stratagem ignited a wildfire of retribution in his veins. With a voice that cut through the howling wind, he rallied his faithful crew: “No longer shall we be the prey of tricksters! Tonight, we reclaim our stolen pride and deliver justice that will echo from Plymouth to old London Town!”
The atmosphere grew charged as the lieutenant advanced to the grim scene where Blackbeard’s lifeless form had been left in the ghostly cabin—a remnant of a bygone era of lawlessness and cruelty. His gloved hand, trembling with a potent mix of fury and resolve, drew his gleaming cutlass. In one fluid, unyielding motion, he coupled a cry of defiance with a decisive swing that cleaved Blackbeard’s head from its accouterments. The act was both brutal and balletic—a demonstration that the specter of betrayal was about to be exorcised in blood and iron.
Raising his prize high, Maynard affixed the infamous head upon the bowsprit, where it swayed ominously in the cold night air. The severed visage—with eyes that glimmered with a remnant malice, a tangle of dark, ink-like beard, and a sneer of eternal contempt—became an unyielding symbol of retribution. It was a stark, macabre beacon for all who would dare to meddle in the affairs of the British crown, a permanent warning scrawled in the language of ruthless justice.
Maynard sailed Blackbeard’s ship
'Adventure' across Pamlico Sound up to Bath, but not with the pirate’s head hanging under the bowsprit as is so often
told, he removed it sharpish.
It was too valuable, worth a bounty of £100 pounds sterling back in Virginia.
Which he collected. Saving the head for London.
Morning crept upon the horizon, revealing swirling mists and rippling seas that bore silent witness to the previous night’s grim spectacle. News of Maynard’s fearsome deed swept through the ranks of the Royal Navy like wildfire, stoking hearts with renewed fervor. The tale was spun—of a betrayed lieutenant, wronged of his coveted gold hoard, who had taken the audacity to execute the treacherous pirate Edward Teach in a single, resounding act of vengeance.
Weeks later when the Adventure sailed into the bustling quay of old London Town, the sight of Blackbeard’s head gallantly displayed on the bowsprit
once more, stirred a fervor among the gathered throngs. Crowds poured along the cobblestone docks, their eyes wide with awe and anticipation. Trumpets blared and banners fluttered in the bracing wind as Maynard’s vessel joined the hallowed fleet returning to the Admiralty. Every soul present knew that this was not merely a ship’s arrival but the triumphant reawakening of British honor—and a declaration that treachery on the high seas would find no quarter.
In the grand halls of the Admiralty, under the discerning gaze of naval dignitaries, Maynard was lauded as a hero—a man whose ruthless act had not only avenged his personal losses but had sent a clarion call to every pirate daring to defy the crown. The hero’s welcome was as jubilant as it was somber—a celebration tinged with the remembrance of those lost to deceit and the resolute promise of justice enforced at sea.
Even as the festivities rang out under the smoky twilight of London’s ancient skyline, Maynard’s eyes, darkened by the weight of his deeds, betrayed a lingering tempest of his own. The severed head, a grisly monument of past treachery, would forever serve as the silent, eternal testament that in this world of shifting allegiances, true honor was etched in the steel of retribution and the blood of conviction.
The legend of Lieutenant Maynard’s solitary act of divine retribution was only just beginning to weave itself into the tapestry of maritime lore. As whispers of further mysteries and hidden truths swirled through taverns and shadowed docks alike, one truth remained: in the unforgiving theater of the sea, only those willing to embrace the darkness could ever hope to illuminate the path of justice.
Search
as they might, Blackbeard's wife, Mary Ormond, could not be found by the
authorities.
With
that, Lieutenant Maynard began his descent into obscurity. His account of
the encounter, bore little resemblance to the battle real, and the manner in
which Blackbeard was overcome, and for what reason. Maynard passed
leaving a son, who in turn amounted to little, save for rekindling faltering
family nomenclature.
THE INFAMOUS PIRATE'S
ULTIMATE REVENGE
The candlelight flickered against the damp wooden walls of the abandoned cabin, casting jagged shadows that danced like specters. The map lay spread upon the table, its edges curled, its ink smudged by time. A testament to Blackbeard’s cunning—the last chess move in a game played beyond the grave.
Elias Mercer traced his gloved fingers over the faded parchment, the thrill of conquest pounding in his veins. The legend was clear: Blackbeard’s treasure was real. And this map, discovered hidden beneath the rotting floorboards of the infamous pirate’s quarters, should have been the key.
But it wasn’t.
Something was missing.
Mercer scowled, scanning the cryptic symbols and broken pathways etched into the yellowing sheet. The coordinates,
he knew, led nowhere. Every winding route pointed toward an abyss of unmarked
sea - a dead man’s joke.
“Where’s the rest of it?” growled Silas Drake, his first mate, leaning close enough that Mercer could smell the salt and whiskey on his breath. “You said the map would lead us to the gold.”
Mercer clenched his jaw. He had believed so. But now he saw Blackbeard’s true
design - this was no map to riches. It was a lure.
The missing piece, the erasure of Henry Morgan’s coffin, the whispered accounts from dying men who had sworn Blackbeard took his secrets to the depths—each fact painted the same reality.
The treasure hunters had been played.
Mercer’s mind reeled. Blackbeard had scrawled the ultimate trap. Greed had brought them here, and greed would keep them hunting. But the answer they sought was gone, swallowed by the grave.
And yet…
The temptation gnawed at him. What if the erased portion could be reconstructed? What if the clues left in the margins—those small, seemingly insignificant markings—hid a deeper code?
He met Drake’s gaze. “We’re not done.”
Drake grinned, but it was the grin of a man teetering on the edge of madness. “Aye, Captain. That’s what Blackbeard wanted, ain’t it? To keep us chasing his shadow. To make sure no man ever slept easy thinking he was close.”
Outside, the waves crashed against the hull of their ship, a symphony of misdirection, the sea itself laughing along with Blackbeard’s final deception.
Some treasures were meant to be found.
Others… were meant to never be found.
Elias Mercer: The Weight of Lost Legacy
Born on fog-shrouded docks in London, Elias Mercer was raised amidst whispers of the sea’s most perilous secrets. His father—a keen navigator with a taste for forbidden charts—vanished on a fateful voyage rumored to be intertwined with the very legend of Blackbeard’s infamous map. Young Mercer was left with little but a trove of yellowed journals and scrap maps that carried not only an incalculable value of knowledge but also the burden of an unanswered destiny.
At the tender age of fourteen, Mercer enlisted as a cabin boy aboard a merchant vessel. The relentless crash of surf against ancient hulls and the ceaseless rhythm of the ocean became the cadence of his early life. Even as the harsh realities of survival took hold, Mercer’s heart burned with a singular purpose: to decipher those scattered clues left by his father and to confront the mysteries that haunted his every waking moment. His natural affinity for navigation and encyclopedic memory of maritime lore distinguished him among his peers. Soon, through hard-won experience and an unyielding determination, Mercer rose to command a ship—and with it, a reputation that mixed awe with apprehension across ports and taverns alike.
Every expedition led Mercer a step closer to the enigma of his bloodline and, ironically, to the deceptive trap that was Blackbeard’s map. Though the lure promised riches, Mercer gradually came to suspect it was a wry game spun by the notorious pirate. Now, gazing out to the endless horizon from his salt-streaked deck, Mercer wrestled with the bittersweet possibility that his quest was as much about reclaiming his father’s legacy as it was about exposing a cunning posthumous prank. His eyes, darkened with memories of loss and hardened by storms of the past, reflected his resolve to one day unravel the final mystery—the very key that had once belonged to his father.
Silas Drake: Forged in the Shadows of the Underbelly
In stark contrast to Mercer’s inherited nobility, Silas Drake’s beginnings were far more ruthless—a life carved out in the dim alleys of Norfolk’s notorious portside shanties. Abandoned early and forced to barter his trust for survival, young Silas learned that the world rewarded only the cunning and the ruthless. The brine and grime of the docks became his classroom, where every whispered secret and every street brawl taught him lessons that no gentleman’s academy could offer.
Silas’s adolescent years were defined by hardship and betrayal. With no family to shield him, he was swiftly introduced to the crew of petty smugglers and streetwise cutthroats who roamed the back alleys of port cities. It was in these dark corners of society that Silas discovered an innate aptitude for evading trouble—and for creating it when needed. A jagged scar, the memory of a savage brawl against a rival marauder, marred his cheek and served as a constant reminder of how fragile mercy could be on these unforgiving shores.
When the call of the open sea finally arrived, Silas’s transition from street urchin to seafarer was less a renaissance than a desperate gamble for redemption. His skills in stealth, sabotage, and shipboard strategy soon earned him a reputation as someone not to be underestimated—a sharp mind capable of turning tides in the favor of those brave enough to take his side. His chance encounter with Captain Mercer was, in retrospect, a turning point. The lure of Blackbeard’s false treasure—an insidious puzzle promising both wealth and a shot at vengeance—seemed tailor-made for a man whose very existence had been a contest of survival. For Silas, joining Mercer’s crew was both a risk and a potential path to righting the wrongs of his own cursed past.
Both men now navigate a labyrinth of deceit set in motion by Blackbeard’s final, mocking gambit. Mercer’s quest is as much about the spectral allure of his father’s legacy as it is about cracking the code of the pirate’s map, while Silas’s inner demons drive him toward a bitter need for retribution against a world that had long spat him aside. Their intertwined destinies hint at truths hidden deep beneath layers of treachery—a truth worth pursuing, even if it means chasing shadows across an endless, capricious sea.
>>>
CHAPTER
2
Blackbeard
was one of the most feared pirate captains operating in the Caribbean Sea.
When he resumed pirating, the British made it their business to capture him
as an example to other would be renegades.
Damn you for Villains, who are you? And, from whence came you? The Lieutenant made him Answer, You may see by our Colours we are no
Pyrates. Black-beard bid him send his Boat on Board, that he might see who he was; but Mr. Maynard reply'd thus; I cannot spare my Boat, but I will come aboard of you as soon as I can, with my Sloop. Upon this, Black-beard took a Glass of Liquor and drank to him with these Words: Damnation seize my Soul if I give you Quarters, or take any from you. In Answer to which, Mr. Maynard told him,
that he expected no Quarters from him, nor should he give him any.
PROLOGUE:
ROYAL
AFRICAN COMPANY - King Charles
II, Royal Charter James Stuart II,
transport goods from Africa: Bloody
Triangle.
SCENE
1. THE
BATTLE OF OCRACOKE - Lt Robert Maynard, Blackbeard's
curse, beheading &
torturous interrogation on the
Adventure
SCENE
2. EARTHQUAKE
JAMAICA - Present Day - An earthquake hits Port Royal,
disturbing the sunken city & Palisadoes cemetery.
SCENE
3. BLUE SHIELD ENGLAND -
Blue
Shield, Newcastle UK, UNESCO
requests Storm catalogue underwater city UNEP
World
Heritage Site.
SCENE
3.1. SWASHBUCKLING
- John tries out Dan's VR sword fencing program, then duel with real pirate
cutlasses, Hal keeping score.
SCENE
4. HENRY
MORGAN'S DEATH - Henry Morgan has a heart attack; funeral ceremony at Palisadoes
cemetery, old Port Royal.
SCENE
5. SUNKEN
CITY SURVEY - Present Day, Swann's sensors scan the ocean bed, revealing mausoleum former Governor of Jamaica.
SCENE
6. JUNE
1692 TSUNAMI - Jamaica, June 7th, an earthquake hits
Port Royal, then a tsunami washes the pirate haven
under the sea.
SCENE
6.1. GHOSTS
BLACKBEARD & MORGAN - Spectral figures cheer on John Storm as
he searches Henry's Palisadoes crypt for clues.
SCENE
7. HENRY
MORGAN'S COFFIN - John Storm & ROV,
comes face to face with Henry's skeletal remains. Finds interesting wooden engraving.
SCENE
8. BBC
JILL BIRD - London. John
Storm's finds lost Henry Morgan's pirate remains. "And for those of you wondering,
there was no treasure."
SCENE 9. OPERATION
HISPANIOLA - British Geographical Society,
& Royal Navy fund Lord Huntington's
expedition to recover relics in the Caribbean.
SCENE
10. SHIP'S
COOK - William Gray helps John Long's cut-throats to crew for
Huntington's Hispaniola, Long a dab
hand on the galley.
SCENE
11. ARCHAEOLOGICAL SOS - Huntington
(BGS
bigwig) asks John Storm for help with
shipwreck survey - meet in the Caribbean, Haiti.
SCENE
12. SKELETON
ISLAND - Intrigued by map proffered by Lord Huntington, John
agrees to switch attention to location, to coast of Panama. .
SCENE
13. SANTA
CATALINA - Colombian,
Mexican,
Panamanian,
Nicaraguan
patrols re: 'Satisfaction'
& hunt for Aztec
gold, Spanish
Conquistadors.
SCENE
14. TREASURE ISLAND -
Hurricane
Iota erased map clues, Isla Providencia.
Longstride believes location of Blackbeard's/Morgan's treasure.
SCENE
15. KIDNAP -
Black Jack
& Billy Bones kidnap
Dan, Cleopatra - lock in Hispaniola with
Tremaine. Hal alerts John to events via BioCore.
SCENE
15.1. THE
GAUNTLET - With Dan and Cleopatra
hostage, John challenges Black Jack to a duel, which Billy Bones ends with a
pistol shot.
SCENE
15.2. MAROONED - Left of the dockside, John is forced to play
along with Longstride, to give Hal time to recover situation safely.
SCENE
16. DOUBLE CROSS - Maynard
pact with Spanish
Navy to blockade Caribbean to capture John & Swann. Longstride deal Aztec
Golden
Skull.
SCENE
17. BLACKBEARD'S CURSE - John retakes Swann, Hal immobilizes Black Jack and Billy
Bones and rescues prisoners on Hispaniola.
SCENE
18. MORGAN'S TREASURE SHIP - John deciphers carving
code helped Dan and Cybercore
Genetica. Dives to find privateer's shipwreck.
SCENE
19. BILLION DOLLAR DEAL - John
negotiates with Panama, Peru, Colombia, Ecuador & Blue
Shield for % salvage based on wreck video.
SCENE
20. BLOCKADE RUNNER - Swann navigates through
Spanish
Armada & Royal Navy
blockade in stealth mode, invisible to radar.
SCENE
21. BERMUDA TRIANGLE - Pirates
head into
Bermuda Triangle, Colombian Navy in pursuit:
BBC Sky News. Never to be seen again.
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