THE PROPHECY
Jonathan Williams waved goodbye to the aged Reverend Russell as he settled back in the coach that would soon take him to the port of Bristol. He had finished his seven-year tutelage at the home of the kind, white-haired pastor and his wife. In these seven years, Jonathan had learned the basic doctrines from God’s Holy Writ. The knowledgeable pastor had also taught him the basics of Greek and Hebrew and how to understand and interpret the Scriptures. They even went over the powerful message of the great preacher Jonathan Edwards; ‘Sinners in the hands of an Angry God’ which was preached only ten years prior. Most important, the Reverend Russell pointed out how the whole Bible pointed to the LORD Jesus Christ as Savior.
Now it was time to join his mother and father who awaited him in Virginia Colony. He would eventually take his father’s place as pastor in a small church in Spotsylvania. It was there that his father and mother had started a small mission to reach the townspeople and even the neighboring Indian tribes. Since then, it had grown and now, Jonathan would come to help out with preaching and Bible study.
The carriage started forward as the coachman coaxed the horses to trot. As Jonathan settled back in the seat, he pulled out a folded letter that he had received from his mother and father only a few days before by the way of special messenger. He lay back against the coach window and re-read the letter. A smile came to his face as he read the words his father had written a few months before;
Spotsylvania County, Virginia
May 1st, 1751
Dearest Jonathan,
Your mother and I send you greetings from Virginia Colony. The LORD’s congregation is growing, slowly but surely. Some townspeople come to hear God’s Word and some have even made professions of faith. Quite a few have come to accept Jesus as their LORD and Savior. All praise and glory be to HIM who is on high.
We have ventured out to a village of Indians who live quite a ways from here, but no matter, the trip was worth it. We are attempting to learn their language so as to speak to them about the LORD. They refer to God as the “Great Spirit” we need to tell them that the “Great Spirit” is the “Holy Spirit” and that the spirit of God can inhabit them. These natives show no animosity towards us, they are a bit curious though as to why we visit them.
My health is not as good as before. I get tired easily now so I am sending for you to come join us. You have finished your tenure of education in God’s Word with our dear friend and brother in the faith, the Reverend Russell and his wife. I am sending this letter with Captain Bishop of the ‘Bristol Star’ he is also a good friend of mine. He should be in port in a few months’ time given fair winds and calm seas.
He will relay this letter to you via special messenger. The ship will be in port for about five days to take on stores. That should give you time enough to ready yourself and take a coach to the port of Bristol. The fare has been paid. Remember to thank the reverend Russell and his wife for the time you spent with them. We would have sent you to Bible College had the cost been minimal, but the finances were out of our reach. We thank God that the Reverend Russell agreed to take you in these seven years.
See you soon in a few months’ time, and sooner perhaps if God grants fair winds and calm seas.
Love and Godspeed,
father and mother
He folded up the letter again and returning it to the envelope, he stuffed it inside of his coat pocket. Jonathan knew that the trip to Bristol would be a half day's journey so to take advantage of the ride, he pushed his three-cornered hat forward to cover his eyes and settled back to get some rest. He was dead tired since he had been up almost the entire night packing his things and listening to some last-minute counsel from the Reverend Russell.
The rocking of the coach from side to side along the rocky English road to Bristol slowly lulled Jonathan to sleep. He was suddenly awakened by the coachman’s hand on his shoulder.
“Sir, we’re here. We’ve arrived in Bristol. I’ll get your trunk down.” said the coachman as he went to the back of the coach and untied a medium-size seaman’s trunk. Jonathan got out and was awed at the sight of Bristol. It was a seaport bustling with the activity of sailors and dock workers going to and fro from ships to dock. The coachman put Jonathan’s sea-trunk down by his feet and bid him farewell.
“How much do I owe you sir?” asked Jonathan, reaching into his pocket for some silver and copper coins.
“Nothing sir” smiled the coachman, “Captain Bishop paid the fare already, good day to you sir.”
And with those words, the coachman climbed back into the coach and was ready to drive off. A last-minute thought came to Jonathan’s mind. How would he know where to look for Captain Bishop? Bristol was a big port and there were so many people walking around, not to mention shops and stores.
“Sir” Jonathan began, “where can I find Captain Bishop?”
“Over there” pointed the coachman, “at the ‘Admiral’s Inn’. That’s where all the sailors go for some conversation and a drink or two.”
“Thank you and Godspeed sir” replied Jonathan as politely as he could.
One thing he also learned from the Rev. Russell was good manners and the ways of a gentleman. With that, the coachman drove off down one of the side streets of Bristol, perhaps to await other travelers.
Jonathan looked to where the coachman pointed to and saw a small, two-story inn with a hanging sign above the door which read; ‘The Admiral’s Inn’ There was a picture of a British naval officer under the name, and below the picture, the words; ‘founded 1698’. So, thought Jonathan, this was where the captain would be waiting for him. He then shouldered the trunk and headed for the inn.
The trunk was a gift from the Reverend Russell. It had belonged to him when he had served as a sailor in the king’s navy. On the lid of the trunk were carved the initials ‘S.R.’ for “Samuel Russell”. The night before, Jonathan was busy packing the trunk with a few changes of clothes, his leather-bound bible with a brass clasp, and bible study notes. Jonathan walked the two blocks and stopped at the inn. With one hand he opened the door and stepped inside. He then put the sea-chest down beside the door and looked around.
The inn was crowded with sailors from the different docked ships. They sat around wooden tables and all seemed to be talking at once. Some were laughing loudly, others just sat quietly sipping rum or ale and seemed to be lost in a train of thought, perhaps thinking of their families and friends. At one table, a sailor was playing a fiddle and another accompanied him with a flute. Some stared at Jonathan, looking him up and down as if he didn’t belong in such a place.
There was a bartender dressed in a leather apron washing some glasses in soapy water. He seemed to be really busy washing the glasses to get them ready for the next customers, but not too busy to ignore Jonathan.
“What’ll it be mate” began the bartender as he looked up at Jonathan, “a glass of rum? Some ale?
“Oh no sir” answered Jonathan, a little quietly. “I’m not here to drink anything, only to look for someone.”
The bartender continued to wash the glasses, he seemed to be a bit annoyed since Jonathan obviously would not be a paying customer.
“Who are you looking for?” continued the bartender, not bothering to look up at Jonathan anymore. He just continued washing the glasses, putting a few in clean, rinse water.
“I’m looking for Captain Bishop of the ‘Bristol Star’ replied Jonathan, with a stronger voice. He felt that he needed to be a bit tougher in a place like this.
“Over there” pointed the bartender to one corner of the inn.
Jonathan looked to where the bartender was pointing and noticed a sailor dressed in a long, black cloak and was wearing a three-cornered hat, a bit dirty and worn perhaps from years at sea. He sat there sipping some rum from a small glass. At the words ‘Captain Bishop’ he looked up and noticed Jonathan, then nodded his head once. Jonathan went over to where the sailor sat.
“Are you Captain Bishop sir?” he asked politely as he could.
“I’m Mr. Jacobs, first mate” replied the sailor very curtly, “Are you Jonathan Williams?”
“Yes sir, I’m here to sail with Captain Bishop to the colonies.”
“Very well then” replied Mr. Jacobs as he threw his head back and swallowed the last drops of rum. “Let’s go, the captain’s been expecting you, he sent me here to await your arrival.”
With those words, Mr. Jacobs got up and headed for the door, he threw a coin on the bartender’s table. The bartender nodded and placed the coin in a small wooden box.
“Have you a sea-bag or a chest?”
“Yes sir, over there” replied Jonathan, pointing to the sea-chest marked ‘S.R.’ but before he could bend down and shoulder the chest, Mr. Jacobs lifted it and placed it on his own shoulders as if it weighed nothing at all.
“Follow me” ordered the first mate as he pushed the door open and walked outside.
The two then walked down the dock, passing two ships, then a third. After passing the third, the first mate pointed to a medium-sized sailing vessel with three masts, and four furled sails on each one.
“There be the ‘Bristol Star’, and there be Captain Bishop on board.”
Jonathan looked and saw a neatly dressed gentleman on board. He was going over some papers with some dock workers. There was a gang-plank that extended from the dock to the ship. Jonathan followed Mr. Jacobs up the gang-plank and onto the deck of the ‘Bristol Star’ Then the two made their way over to where Captain Bishop was going over the ship’s manifest and making sure that the supplies onboard were according to the list.
“Captain sir,” started Mr. Jacobs, “Here be Jonathan Williams.
“Mr. Williams”, replied the captain with excitement, “Welcome aboard, we’ve been expecting you. Your mother and father send you greetings from Virginia Colony but I believe you already have their letter in hand, am I right?”
“Yes sir”, said Jonathan shanking the captain’s hand, “that’s why I am here, ready to join them in the colonies, and thank you for being willing to take me aboard.”
“You are quite welcome Mr. Williams, or, should I say the ‘Reverend Williams’ what title do you prefer?”
“Jonathan will do sir”
“then Jonathan it is, I’m just going over the ship’s manifest and stores making sure we have all the provisions for our trip to the colonies. You’ll be bunking with me in my cabin…Mr. Jacobs?”
“sir?”
“Mr. Jacobs, please take Jonathan to my cabin and get him settled in. Jonathan, I’ll see you later, you must be a bit tired after your trip to Bristol, am I right?”
“Yes sir, I tried sleeping a bit in the coach, but it was a little uncomfortable. I’d like to lay down for a while and rest.”
“Very well, I’ll come in and get you when dinner is served, my first mate, Mr. Jacobs will take you to my cabin.”
So, Jonathan followed Mr. Jacobs to the captain’s cabin. They went down a short flight of stairs and entered a room which had a large, ornate desk, some charts and a small bookshelf with sea-faring books. There were three beds in the captain’s cabin. One bed was near the desk and the other two were bunk-beds, which were on the other side of the bookshelf.
Mr. Jacobs placed Jonathan’s sea-chest at the foot of the bunk-bed.
“Take your pick, the top or bottom bunk, your choice. Rest well reverend, we sail at morning’s light.”
With those words, Mr. Jacobs turned and left the cabin leaving Jonathan quite alone, sitting on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. He was really tired, the trip to Bristol took half the day, now it was afternoon and soon, the sun would be setting.
‘I’ll just lie down and rest a few hours, dinner would be good’ he thought as he took off his shoes and stretched out on the bottom bunk, and in no time, he fell fast asleep. When Jonathan awoke, he realized it was already the morning of the next day. He had slept through the night and now, he was really hungry. He turned over in the bunk to see Captain Bishop at his desk going over some charts.
“Good morning Jonathan” greeted the captain getting up from his desk, “I bet you’re very hungry. I came in last night to call you for dinner, but you were fast asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Yes sir, I am” replied Jonathan, getting up from the bunk, “I really needed the rest, it helped getting a good night’s sleep.” Then he felt the roll of the ship beneath him.
“Are we…at sea yet?
“Oh my God, yes” answered the captain, a little surprised at the question, “you slept through us leaving the port. It’s almost noon and we are well at sea. But let me show you around, introduce you to the men and get you something to eat.”
Then Jonathan and Captain Bishop went up on deck. Land was just a tiny speck in the horizon as Jonathan could well see. The wind filled the sails and the ocean waves splashing against the hull of the ship.
“You sit here and I’ll get the cook to get you something,” said captain Bishop, pointing to a small wooden bench near the mainmast. In a while, the cook came up and handed Jonathan a round, wooden plate with some roasted fish with a biscuit and a cut-up apple on the side. He also handed up a pewter cup filled with tea.
“Welcome aboard shipmate” smiled the cook, whose name was Henry, “hope you like ship’s food, it isn’t the best but it certainly isn’t the worst.”
With those words, he walked away leaving Jonathan with the “almost-noon” meal. Jonathan ate his meal with eagerness. Yes, he was quite hungry and the ship’s food wasn’t so bad. He had to be careful to separate the bones from the meat in eating the roast fish. This reminded him of what the Reverend Russell had told him once about religious writings;
“Jonathan,” he said once, “Some religious writings are like eating a fish, some fish have a lot of bones and a little bit of flesh, so, you need to separate the bones from the meat. Eat the meat and throw away the bones. If the writing doesn’t square with scripture, it’s bones!”
Jonathan smiled at that thought. He ate his meal and thanked the LORD for it. When he finished, he got up and went to look for Captain Bishop. He found him giving some instructions to two sailors.
“Did you enjoy your meal, Jonathan? I know it isn’t what you were accustomed to eating in England, but…we’re at sea and…”
“It was just fine captain, I’m feeling a lot better now. With a full stomach, I can do anything.” answered Jonathan with a smile. He really did feel better and the meal wasn’t quite bad at all, being ship’s food.
“Great” replied the captain, “Let’s introduce you to the crew!”
and with that, Captain Bishop and Jonathan walked up and down the deck of the ‘Bristol Star’ and one by one, the captain introduced Jonathan to all the sailors on board.
Some seemed very polite and friendly, others not so much. Some were happy to meet him, others seemed indifferent.
“I’d like to be of some use aboard ship captain,” said Jonathan, hoping to get some kind of chore to do onboard. It only seemed fair since the voyage would be a few months and just walking around with nothing to do would be a little frustrating.
“Yes” answered the captain, “You will indeed have a big job to do onboard. You will be our ship’s chaplain. Our spiritual advisor, a counselor. You can present Sunday morning services and if you wish, you may also conduct morning and evening devotionals.”
Jonathan did not know what to say. He would finally put to use what he learned from Reverend Russell. With all those years behind him now, he would now present God’s word to men of different personalities. It would indeed be a bit of a challenge.
“Thank you, captain Bishop, thank you so much!”
“You are very welcome my dear Jonathan, it’s the least I can do. These men need some preaching and teaching from the scriptures. You see Jonathan, it isn’t easy being a ship’s captain and a Christian man at heart, all at the same time. Sometimes I have to be a little tough on the men, but I am always guided by the Word of God. The Bible is my source and standard of living.”
Then Jonathan and the captain walked over to the ship’s railing and looked out across the waves. The captain seemed to be deep in thought, after a few minutes, he shared his thoughts.
“You see Jonathan” began the captain, “my wife Elizabeth brought me to the knowledge of Jesus Christ as my LORD and Savior, and how he died in my place to set me free of the curse of sin. She taught me from the Bible…yes…for five years we shared our lives together, but the LORD saw fit to take her home. She died of the consumption, but I know she’s in heaven and awaits me there.”
Jonathan noticed a few drops of tears in the captain’s eyes. It was good to meet a man with such great responsibility as being a ship’s captain, but also, very human and sincere, not fearing to share his soul with another.
“Now” continued Captain Bishop, “you need to meet old Quentin McGee, an old Irish sea-mate, who is also a good Christian man. He is indeed, one of a kind. Let’s go.”
So, Jonathan followed the captain to a place near the back of the ship. There on the deck, surrounded by old sails sat an old, balding, red-headed sailor. He seemed to be hard at work mending the corner of one of the sails that was torn on the edge.
“Quentin” spoke the captain, “This here is Jonathan Williams, he is our chaplain on this voyage, Jonathan, this here is Quentin McGee, our oldest and most experienced sailor.”
“Welcome aboard shipmate” replied the old-timer, with a strong but a little raspy voice. “first time at sea?”
“Yes” answered Jonathan, “hope the trip isn’t too long.
“Well” continued Quentin, “all depends on the winds. With fair winds, we should make it to the colonies in two months, give or take a week or two.
“I’ll leave you two to talk a bit while I make my rounds.” Said the captain as he walked away.
“I’ve been at sea all these forty and three years,” said old Quentin as he sat back down again amidst the old sails,
“I was once a strong fellow, but now, I just sit here and mend these old, torn sails. Kind of like the Apostol Paul who was a tentmaker. Had his needle and thread and thus, made his living.”
Jonathan listened to old Quentin as he talked about the places he had visited, distant ports, high winds, and rough seas, sharks and whales, the names of the ships he had sailed on. The stories were similar to those that the Reverend Russell had told him. He too had been a mariner in the king’s navy. He had been part of left-tenant Maynard’s crew when they attacked and killed the infamous pirate ‘Blackbeard'.
“Quentin” started Jonathan, “did you ever run into Blackbeard or other pirates?” he asked with all curiosity
“Blackbeard?” replied Quentin all wide-eyed, “Old Ned Teach, that was his bloody name. Glad I never met him. He was the Goliath of the high seas, plundering ships, taking treasure of gold, silver, pearls, silks, you name it. He sailed a French Merchantman called ‘Queen Ann’s Revenge’ a 40-gun terror, had three-hundred fighting men as well.”
Quentin paused a bit, as if deep in thought, then he continued.
“But Blackbeard met his David, Left-tenant Maynard of his Majesty’s navy right off the coast of North Carolina. In 1718, Maynard and his men fought Blackbeard and his crew of cut-throats and in the end, Maynard prevailed.”
“How did it all end?” asked Jonathan, now all excited.
“Why Maynard cut off Blackbeard’s bloody head and tied it to the bowsprit of his own ship” answered Quentin, making a pass with his finger across his throat. “Then he threw his headless body into the sea, and do you know what happened?”
“No, what?” Jonathan was all ears now.
“why his body swam around and around his ship until…it finally sank beneath the waves.” Finished Quentin, a little exhausted now from his own story. Then he settled back again to resume mending the sails.
“Quentin, are you telling pirate stories again?” laughed Captain Bishop who was standing right behind the two.
“Oh, Captain sir, how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough Quentin, long enough,” said the captain, smiling and shaking his head. “Jonathan, this old sailor will talk your head off about pirates if you let him. Blackbeard is his favorite, well, Quentin I believe has some mending to do, don’t you Quentin?”
“Oh, yes sir, I’m getting right on it sir.” Said Quentin, getting back to work bending the torn sails
With that, Jonathan and Captain Bishop continued to walk the deck of the ship, observing the crew and looking out to sea.
“Quentin has been aboard this ship for the past ten years” began the captain, “When I first met him he was one ornery cuss, drinking rum and swearing just like other sailors, but an old sailor named Mr. Lewis, well, he took a liking to him and taught him how to read using a Bible. Then I saw a change in Quentin, he began to read the Bible more and more, until five years ago, in 1746, he fell in love with God, accepted Jesus as his LORD and Savior, and now, he witnesses to other sailors.”
“That’s great” replied Jonathan with joy, “I’m glad he’s a good Christian man now.
“I’m glad of that too my dear Jonathan, but at times, he can’t irritate some of these ‘not-so-saintly’ sailors to the bone…Oh, by the way…Blackbeard’s body did not swim around his ship. I do believe it sank into the deep.” Said the captain, pointing down at the waves.
“Oh yes, I agree” added Jonathan with a smile, “and if sharks ate his body, it probably got them quite sea-sick!’ both the captain and Jonathan laughed at that and they continued walking the deck.
“Quentin can exaggerate a bit, but, that’s just the way he is, good old Quentin, our brother in Christ.”
So, the days passed into weeks, and the first month at sea was finished. Jonathan found himself talking to many of the ship’s crew about their faith, about their families, and just about anything that they wished to talk about. Some received him kindly, others, with indifference.
Jonathan delivered his sermons every Sunday morning before the men began their duties. During the weekdays, he gave a small devotional from the Psalms to the men right after breakfast and concluding it with a prayer of thanks for another day at sea.
The winds were fair and the waves pushed the ‘Bristol Star’ closer and closer to the American colonies. Every day Jonathan would sit with Quentin as he mended the torn sails and listened to his sea stories. He told him about whales and killer sharks, and always about pirates.
He told him about Captain Henry Morgan and how he plundered Panama for its gold and silver, about Capt. Kidd, and “Calico Jack Rackham” about “Capt. Ann Bonnie” a lady pirate, and of course, he always returned to the story of Blackbeard, and how he had taken hostages at the port of Charles Town in South Carolina, and how he traded them for a chest full of medicine for some of his sick crewmen. Listening to Quentin was always the highlight of the day. At times, Quentin would ask Jonathan questions about the Bible, and Jonathan would answer as knowledge permitted him.
It was around the middle of the second month at sea when Jonathan was walking the deck as usual, he noticed that Quentin was not by the old sails that lay in a pile. He was used to seeing the old sailor sewing and mending but today, he was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s old Quentin?” Jonathan asked one of the sailors
“Took sick” he replied without great concern. “He’s in his hammock, captain is with him.
Jonathan went below deck where the sailors slept and found Quentin in his hammock with a wet rag wrapped around his forehead. Captain Bishop was with him and so was the ship’s doctor who looked a bit concerned at old Quentin’s present demise.
“Quentin! What’s the matter?” cried out Jonathan with a voice a bit louder than usual.
“I think the Good LORD is calling me home my dear shipmate Jonathan” replied Old Quentin with a raspy voice. His voice was now weak, speaking only a bit above a whisper.
“Nonsense,” replied Captain Bishop, trying to instill a bit of courage and hope into the old sailor. “You just need a few days rest and you’ll be back to mending those sails as usual, good as new.” Somehow, the tone of the captain’s voice betrayed his own words.
Quentin closed his eyes for a few minutes, mumbling to himself. The doctor looked at the captain and slowly shook his head.
“Don’t know what’s wrong Captain,” began the doc, “fever just won’t come down.”
“Try your best,” pleaded Captain Bishop, “he’s the best sailor, we’ve got, don’t want to lose him.”
“Not up to me,” said the doctor with all honesty, “He’s old and weak, can’t promise much. Just keep that wet rag on his head, it will cool him a bit.” and with those words, the doctor left.
The captain and Jonathan were left alone with Quentin as he continued to mumble some unintelligible word, shaking his head back and forth. He finally fell off to sleep. That evening after supper, the doctor called the captain and Jonathan to Quentin’s side again.
“He’s worse” sighed the doctor, “but he wanted to speak with Jonathan.
“I’m here my dear friend and brother in Christ, my old shipmate, it’s me Jonathan.”
At the sound of Jonathan’s voice, Quentin opened his eyes and sat up a bit in his hammock, his face which was covered with sweat seemed to reflect a calm radiance. Finding the strength to speak, he reached out and grasped Jonathan’s hand.
“Jonathan, my good and faithful shipmate, brother in Christ, chaplain aboard this good vessel, I won’t be around for much longer. The LORD is calling me home, he has told me so. Yet he spoke of you, that he did, He has a special message for you, sort of like a ‘prophecy’, yes, that’s what I’d call it, a prophecy.”
Jonathan was taken aback at the word “prophecy” but he continued to hold old Quentin’s wrinkled hand.
“Say on my brother.”
“Thus, says the LORD to my faithful servant” began Quentin, with a strong voice. For a few minutes, the fever had no effect on Quentin’s voice, it was the same voice as when he was well.
“You are my chosen servant to minister to these men, yet you will be taken where you wish not to go, and among the heathen, you will be my witness, yet a Cu****e will set you free and point the way home!”
At the end of those words, Quentin released Jonathan’s hand and settled back again in his hammock.
“I don’t understand Quentin.” Replied Jonathan a bit confused. “What do those words mean?”
“Those words are meant for you shipmate, and in time, you will understand.”
“What could those words mean Captain Bishop?” asked Jonathan, now greatly puzzled, wanting to understand something that was meant only for him.
“I have no idea Jonathan” sighed the captain, “but if this prophecy is meant for you, then it will be revealed to you in due time, you just have to wait on the LORD.”
“Captain” cried out old Quentin, trying to sit back up again.
“I’m here old friend”
“The LORD has revealed to me that both you and I will be with Him, very soon…very soon!” and with that statement, the old sailor lay back and fell into a deep sleep, a sleep which would take him into the arms of his creator.
“Why did he say that?” asked Jonathan, now a bit worried.
“Oh, maybe…he’s…a bit delirious…you know…the fever and all,” replied the captain, but a look of concern came into his eyes, wondering about his own fate on this voyage.
Jonathan and Captain Bishop left Quentin and went to their cabin. The two then settled down for the night but guarded within their hearts the message of an expiring sailor. In the morning, Jonathan was awakened by the captain.
“Jonathan, Quentin is gone, he passed away during the night. Please, prepare some words and we’ll commit him to the sea.
Yes, he would. Jonathan came up on deck and saw old Quentin at peace. He lay there on the deck of the ship all wrapped up in his hammock with the British flag draped over him. Captain Bishop came over and stood next to Jonathan. Together, they read from God’s Holy Writ.
“We commit this dear soul to the bosom of the deep to be resurrected in the last days.”
Those words thus ended the memorial service for old Quentin, sailor, and brother in Christ. All the crew responded with “Amen”. One of the sailors blew a whistle and Old Quentin’s body slid off a narrow plank of wood and into the waves of the Atlantic. The captain and Jonathan watched sadly as Old Quentin sank beneath the waves and out of sight.
“I’ll miss him, captain,” said Jonathan with a few tears in his eyes.
“I will too and so will the whole crew.” Replied Captain Bishop, “he had a way with the men and the men respected him for his beliefs, although not all the men on board are Christian men. They still listened to him…and…who knows what kind of influence he had. We may only know in the here-after.”
And with those words, the captain, Jonathan and all the crew returned to their duties.
The following morning as the captain and Jonathan were walking together on deck, the look-out in the crow’s nest cried out;
“Sail Ho!”
“from which direction Mr. Maynes?” inquired the captain, looking up at the look-out on duty.
“Off starboard sir.”
The captain and Jonathan went to starboard and strained their eyes into the distant ocean looking for tell-tale signs of white sails. Then they saw it in the distance sailing parallel to their position.
“Can you make out a flag Mr. Maynes? I left the spy-glass in my cabin.”
“I can get it for you sir.” Replied Jonathan, ready to be of assistance.
“Yes, get it, it’s on my desk.”
As Jonathan went to the captain’s cabin, the look-out shouted a reply.
“British sir, I can make out the red, white, and blue colors.” Jonathan ran to where the captain was standing.
“Here’s the spy-glass sir”
“Thank you, Jonathan,” replied the captain, taking the spy-glass and looking outward towards the approaching vessel.
“Sir” shouted the look-out, “she’s turning sir, straight towards us!”
“Strange” said the captain quietly, “why would that ship come straight towards our position, and it isn’t even in distress?” the captain continued observing the approaching ship coming at them at full sail.
As the ship came nearer, the captain and Jonathan noticed that the ship was a bit larger than the ‘Bristol Star’ The minutes passed, and the ship approached even nearer, straight towards them.
“I don’t like it” said the captain in a worried tone lowering the spy-glass, “why would it…”
“Captain, she’s lowering the flag!” shouted the look-out with alarm.
The captain looked again through the spy-glass, observing the ship lowering the British flag, and in its place, a black and white skull and crossed-bones was raised.
“I knew it!’ shouted Captain Bishop with alarm.
“Pirate vessel Captain!” shouted Mr. Maynes.
“Mr. Maynes, call general quarters and order the gun-ports to be opened. We’re in for a fight!”
“Captain, how can I help?” asked Jonathan, now well aware of the situation at hand.