THE GRAND STORY OF THE SEEMINGLY IMPOSSIBLE ADVENTURES OF BARON BRITPOP BLASTFURNACE

Port Royale / Jailbreak

Baron Britpop Blastfurnace • Part 29

Port Royale

Danny Goodleg spent the night in the village, and many tales were shared. The following morning we all gathered for breakfast.

“Would you and Andelbert like to see Port Royale? I would be happy to take you on a tour,” Danny said.

I looked at the Captain for his approval or denial.

“If you wish,” he replied.

“I would very much like that.”

“As would I,” Andelbert added.

“Take Stout with you in case there’s trouble,” the Captain said.

Port Royale is essentially an island connected to the mainland by a narrow strip of land. We walked down High Street toward the Produce markets. The street was lined with buildings. Mostly taverns and shops. There was also a courthouse. On the opposite side of the courthouse were the infamous Gallows Point and a prison.

There were no less than six forts on the shores of Port Royale. Along with seemingly endless docks. Tall masts where visible everywhere you looked. As one might expect, the streets were filled with sailors looking to spend their pay.

The sight of it was hard to describe. Sailors in a wide variety of dress roamed the streets. Some staggering. Some fighting. Some singing. There was an endless stream of loud laughter and shouting. Dogs wandered the streets looking for stray food.

Women in brightly colored dresses were hanging out of upstairs windows, yelling down to sailors. Their dresses were cut so low that any man who didn’t divert his eyes would find himself looking upon a shocking amount of the woman’s bosom. Andelbert looked as overwhelmed as I felt. Stout had a grin as big as any I have ever seen.

“Come on, lads. There is a good place to eat and drink on Queen Street,” Danny said.

We passed a church. I wondered if it was the church Captain Peanut Butter’s Pa had served in. Across the street was the Governor’s mansion. It was sizable compared to the other buildings, but my own estate had a larger home. The villa was surrounded by a garden and an iron rail fence. Soldiers were stationed at the gate. I felt nervous walking by it, but it didn’t seem to faze Stout or Danny.

As we passed the mansion grounds, a group of Spanish navy sailors poured out of one of the taverns. One of them looked at Stout, pointed at him, and yelled, “Pirate!”

“Run!” Stout shouted at us. He grabbed a crate of oranges and threw them at the sailors. Danny simply turned around and blended into the crowd. Stout, Andelbert, and I all took to running as fast as we could, trying to weave our way through the crowds. The sailors gave chase. Stout was the first one caught, and I was captured not long after. Andelbert escaped due to his speed and endurance as a runner.

Andelbert managed to make it back to the village without being followed. He reported the incident to Captain Peanut Butter. Several hours later, Danny appeared.

“What news have you?” the Captain asked Danny.

“A Spanish sailor recognized Stout in the street. He sailed with a merchant ship for a time and remembered Stout from one of our raids. Stout and Britpop are being held in Bridewell prison. They are holding them in the outer corner cell on the upper floor. I seen them looking out the window bars. Since they didn’t hang them right away, I suspect they are planning on using them to draw you out.”

“What are we going to do?” Andelbert asked the Captain.

“They have us at a major disadvantage. There’s only one way in or out by land. We’d be trapped for sure if we tried to bust them out that way. We could try a sea approach, but they will be expecting that. Our only choice is by air.”

“What?” Danny said.

“Genius!” Andelbert shouted.

“We got a hot-air balloon on our last raid. It is a contraption when filled with heated air, rises and floats in the sky like a bird.”

“Truly? That’s incredible,” Danny said.

“It is that. We spent the past few weeks learning to fly it. Andelbert, you and the lads start unpacking the balloon. We will have to fly under cover of darkness. I suspect the sight of a balloon floating over the city would not go unnoticed during the day. Danny, can you get a message to Stout and Britpop telling them to be ready in the early hours of the morning for a rescue? And to stand next to the wall.”

“I’m on my way.”

Danny turned and started back toward town.

Jailbreak

I asked Andelbert to write his recollection of this portion of the tale as I was confined to a jail cell with Stout.

Fortune was on our side that night as it was a full moon. I cannot imagine how we would have flown in total darkness. The crew had the balloon unpacked and ready to fly by nightfall. Then they began preparing The Jellyfish for a quick getaway. The Captain and I would execute the rescue attempt.

We waited a few hours after sundown then fired up the balloon. Once filled with hot air, we set off and silently floated toward Port Royale. I was the pilot. The wind made a sea approach the most viable path. We had loaded several cannonballs into the basket to simulate the weight of Britpop and Stout. We intended to drop the cannonballs on the roof of the prison from a significant height and hopefully break through it.

There was still a considerable amount of revelry going on in Port Royale as we approached. We hoped the ruckus would provide cover for the sound of the cannonballs crashing through the roof of the prison. As we ever-so-slowly drifted over the prison, the captain let the cannonballs fly.

They hit their target and accomplished the intended effect. The roof of their prison cell, being the weakest part, was easily demolished. We dropped a rope down, and Britpop and Stout both grabbed it and started to climb. We had tied knots into the rope so they could get a secure foothold on it. Then they merely had to hang on while we drifted back toward the village.

The noise of the crashing cannonballs through the prison roof did not go completely undetected. Guards soon unlocked the cell, and upon seeing the hole in the ceiling, looked up. Having never seen a hot-air balloon before, I am sure they were quite shocked. But after a momentary lapse into wonder, they regained their faculties and began firing their muskets at Britpop and Stout.

Fortunately, we had already started vanishing out of view, and their shots went wide of the mark. They made a futile attempt from the window also, but we managed a clean getaway.

To my relief, I managed to pilot us back to the village, where we made a safe landing just offshore. The crew quickly went about the business of packing up the balloon. Meanwhile, Stout and Britpop expressed their gratitude at being rescued.

Before dawn broke, we had said our goodbyes, boarded The Jellyfish and were out to sea. I asked the captain where we were headed.

“The navy will be after us now. We must leave the Caribbean. We sail for New France.”

Continues in Part 30

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©2020 Mark Starlin