Authors: Lynelle Clark
times, we went under into the cold depths, and just barely
in time, emerged again. Father saved us that day without
wavering. Back then he was only a sailor who owed us
nothing but his care for us. He was unselfish and we felt
safe with him.
'From the first moment I saw him, I accepted him as
my father and to him I was the daughter he never had. He
was always gentle and kind to me. He and my mother are
inseparable, even to this day.'
A soft sob left her mouth and she stopped talking
the emotions very intense in her.
Roberto waited next to her. His hands clasped
behind his back, he could hear her struggling for control.
His own control broke and without thinking, he placed an
arm around the soft, delicate shoulders. She stiffened and
stood still under his touch, his arm warm and soft on her
bare skin, giving her a feeling of safety.
She looked at him. This time he was closer to her
and she could see tenderness and understanding in his face.
This was a contrast to everything she knew about this man.
The stern and menacing look from the last three days had
vanished. For a brief moment, she enjoyed the closeness
they shared before she stepped away and he dropped his
arm.
'He sounds like a great man and I would love to
really meet him one day,' he said softly, the sternness gone
from his voice. He had a beautiful, calming voice: strong
and steady.
'He is a great man and father, and a great husband to
my mother. I miss him awfully. I miss both my parents.'
'Maybe one day you will meet a man like that as
well.'
'You confuse me, Captain.'
'My name is Roberto, not Captain,' he said with a
chuckle.
'You confuse me Roberto,' she said, but with a grim
smile.
'I have heard that many times.' He removed a strand
of hair from her face, at the same moment she moved to put
it behind her ear. Their hands met and he folded hers into
his warm grasp, bringing it to his lips.
'Good night Rosa-Lee. Thanks for the story.'
Stunned by the intimate gesture, shivers went up her
spine, but she could only watch him.
I must hate him! He is a pirate! She reminded
herself. S
he removed her hand and abruptly said, 'Good
night Roberto.'
I will have to find a way to get free and help my
brother.
She thought as she watched his retreating back.
†††
April 18, 1624
Today I held my son in my arms for the first time.
Manuel Francisco Almaida. I am a father now. My heart is
too big for my chest. I, Cisco Almaida, once an ordinary
sailor, am now the father of a beautiful daughter and a son.
How fortunate I am to have my family. My dreams have
changed into reality and I can love and enjoy them every
day.
Qonchita was in labour for ten hours, ten agonizing
hours, but it was worth it. She is even more beautiful than
before. Once again she has blessed me beyond measure.
How fortunate and happy I am.
Rosa-Lee is ecstatic about her new brother. She
wants to help with everything. What a sweet, strong-willed
child. She is everything I wanted in a daughter and more. I
can hardly wait to teach them all I know, about the sea, the
land, about people.
My family.
6
May 6, 1624
Manuel had a bit of a fever today and we were
really frightened, but the medicine woman assured us not to
worry and gave us some powder to feed him. He is a strong
boy, already opening his eyes and watching the world go
by.
Cisco is a joy to watch as he carries the infant from
room to room. Rosa-Lee is always close by to see when she
can have the opportunity to hold her brother. I normally
have to fight for time between the two. But it does not
bother me at the least. To see Cisco this happy is more than
worth it.
I remember other babies we buried in the heart of
Africa, along with their parents, due to fever, babies that
never had the chance to grow and experience life. This is
what make Manuel so special, to experience life through
him in a greater measure.
We remember those frightful days as if it was
yesterday. The heat, the insect-infested time, coupled with
the fever and constant rains. I felt it would never stop.
Through it all we had to hope that help would come or that
we would find a safe haven. But it took us some time to
come to that place.
Help never came and we were on our own. We
wandered through that wilderness in a daze. I can barely
remember the sights around me. All I remember was the
continued effort to survive in an unkind and untamed
wilderness.
No more. I would never return to that place.
†††
'Sails ahoy!' the call from the crow master
resounded from the main mast four days later. Sails
appeared on the horizon, coming closer with each passing
hour.
Rosa-Lee was excited about the prospect of seeing
another ship. Maybe she could send a word or get some
help. When she ran onto the deck, the ship, named the
Heerengardt
was closer, and she saw the ensign of the
D.E.I.C. fluttering in the soft wind. The
Heerengardt
was much larger in build carrying two hundred soldiers and
crew, canons, merchandise and coins than the
Contra O
Vento
, a frigate build for speed and manoeuvrability with
only eighty crew members.
Roberto and his men's faces were tense as they
scurried around to change the flags from pirate to her
father's crest ensign.
'They want permission to come on board,' the crow
master yelled down.
'They can come,' Roberto yelled back and he
signalled back with the burgee.
The
Contra O Vento
was prepared to accept the
visit, making sure all signs of piracy were gone. All the
men knew what was expected from them, to act like regular
sailors on a ship of this size. When the long boat came
closer, an idea filled Rosa-Lee and she descended to her
cabin below, unnoticed.
A while later, the captain of the D.E.I.C vessel, a
man of impressive frame, stepped on deck. His fierce look
pierced through everyone and everything. However
Roberto was not intimidated by the man and met his fierce
gaze only with a slight of humbleness. Both men accessing
each other as both bowed in chivalry.
A young sailor moved closer to the captain and his
men. With his hat pulled low over his face, he moved
forward unnoticed until he mingled with the strangers. It
seemed that he was a part of the crew, staring at his shoes.
He made no sound and no eye contact.
'Captain Peek du Toit at your service.' The deep
voice of the captain filled the air. He looked around him
with piercing grey eyes, missing nothing
'Where are you going?' he demanded
'Captain Roberto of the
Contra O Vento.
We are
going to India to meet one of our ships and escort it back to
Portugal,' Roberto replied in a confident voice.
'Can I see the papers?'
'Yes.' Roberto handed him their manifesto. The tall
man took the papers and inspected them, fingering the
names listed.
'All seems in order. May I walk around?'
'Yes, please do. We always welcome the D.E.I.C
visits.'
'How is Almaida?'
'At home and well.'
'What is wrong with the ship you plan to escort?'
'It ran into trouble after a storm. We are on our way
to help.'
Roberto only answered the necessary questions and
did not offer any further details. From a distance, his crew
watched everything in silence. They were alert, their gaze
fixed on the ship in front of them.
When the inspection was completed, the men
exchanged a few words and then walked back to where
Roberto was standing.
'Is everything in order?' Roberto asked.
'Everything seems fine. We have received numerous
reports of piracy in these waters so we must be careful to
inspect each one.'
'I understand. We will be on the lookout for any
pirates. Thanks for warning us.'
'Good, then. We will be off so that you can continue
with your voyage.'
'Thank you, Sir, and goodbye.' They watched the
men very carefully as they descended the Jacob's ladder,
entered their long boat, and rowed back to their ship. His
men were highly alert, looking for any trouble.
However, he could swear that there were six men on
the rowboat before, and now there were seven.
'How did I
miss one?'
Everything seemed in order. All his men were
accounted for. Slowly he relaxed and Pierre gave the signal
that they could continue.
As he walked to his grand cabin Roberto was deep
in thought. Something was not right. He could feel it, but
he could not put his finger on it yet. Sitting at his
mahogany desk, he pored over the charts, making sure they
were still on course. With the manifest open before him, he
wrote down the time and date of Captain Peek du Toit's
visit.
At suppertime Rosa-Lee did not come. He sent
word to Enrico.
'Where is Señorita Almaida?'
'Not in her cabin, Captain,' Enrico replied
cautiously. 'I have looked everywhere but I cannot find her.'
He tried to appease Roberto. Enrico was clearly distracted
and fearful fidgeting with his pants, his eyes down cast.
The man in front of him was not easily fooled. Enrico had
warned the señorita, after he had found her in her cabin
dressed in men's clothing, of the foolishness of she was
about to do. But she would not listen to him and he could
not lie to this man.
'Did you look on every deck?'
'Yes, Captain.' Sweat formed on the boy's forehead
and upper lip.
'What are you not telling me, Enrico?' Roberto
barked; all his usual brusque sternness back. Then it
dawned on Roberto who the seventh person was. He cursed
as he turned to Pierre with a quick move causing the chair
to be unbalanced for a brief moment.
'She is on the other ship!' He slammed his fist down
on the table. The plates and glasses rattled and a bottle of
wine toppled over. Pierre caught it just in time.
'We will have to go and get her. For this she will
pay,' he said, seething and pacing the floor. 'She was
disguised as one of the men. She has put us all in danger
with her game. We will have to get her back'
'That will be a daring feat,' Pierre said.
'I realize that, but we have no choice. If she talks we