by Bob Kranich
The Cayman Turtle Schooner, (Part 4, Excerpt 69)
This is a story, titled The Cayman Turtle Schooner. This story will tell about the forming and history of the Cayman Islands, the green sea turtle’s habits and life style, the building of a dugout canoe, and then a schooner, and lastly about the historic two-masted turtle schooner, A. M. Adams. Our two main characters Grandpa and Parker are about to discover a pirate cave.
The Cayman Turtle Schooner
There as a sudden...Crack! The tree started to move above the large ‘V’. Grandpa jumped, ax in hand, turned and ran.
Snap! The tree started to fall. Then suddenly at forty-five degrees it paused momentarily.
A center of the tree’s cut that didn’t want to break held briefly and a huge ball of roots, rocks, and rotten logs jumped upward with the base of the tree.
Finally the tree landed with a crashing of trunk and limbs, and came to a sudden stop. All was quiet.
“Well, I never saw that happen before. They usually just fall over with a bang. Look at that ball of earth and roots.”
“Grandpa, look up against the side of the trail. Right by the tree roots. Is that a cave?”
“I think you’re right, Sonny.”
They climbed down under the tree roots and into the depression in the earth.
“It looks like a limestone cave opening. Let’s dig it out.”
They crawled down into the depression next to the exposed opening. They kneeled and began scooping the loose earth out with their hands. When they got done, the opening was just big enough for a man to crawl through. They peered in.
“Parker, run get me the rucksack. I’ve got some candles and flints in it.”
Grandpa eased in with his lit candle leading the way. Inside you could sit up. It was about as wide as a man stretched
out and twice as deep. Inside strange shadows shown about in the flickering light against the limestone walls.
“Grandpa, what’s that over there, and what’s that smell?”
They could barely see the grinning mouth of a Cayman crocodile's skull.
“Oh, Sonny, that is what your crocodile is going to look like very soon. As far as the smell, this smell is just stale and damp limestone air. Now look past the crocodile skull. Look over there!”
There were rusted blades and handles of three cutlasses and the rusted metal part of a flint-lock pistol. The flint was still in it.
“Looks like the rest of your cutlasses, Parker.”
Parker scrambled over, wax dripping from his candle, with grandpa right behind.
“Ouch! My knee,” Parker cried out.
“Be careful, Sonny.”
“Look, Grandpa, what I bumped my knee on.”
It was a small chest about six by nine inches sticking up out of the floor of the cave.
“What have we here, Sonny? It looks like a pirate chest. It’s buried in the floor of the cave. It couldn’t be more than six inches high. I’m going to get the ax, and we’ll dig it out. You stay right here.”
Grandpa crawled back in with his ax. He chopped into the hard packed floor right next to the small chest. Since it was small, it dug out fairly easy. They went back out into the sunlight. The chest was made of mahogany wood with rusted metal corners and a lock piece in the cover on a long side.
“We’ve done enough, Parker, you can bring the cutlasses.”
They rolled a couple of rocks over against the entrance. Then they threw some dirt and brush on it.
“We’ll come back tomorrow and cut the length of trunk for our canoe. Then we’ll size up and cut limbs for our turtle crawl. Any left over timber we’ll get ready to move to the house...don’t want to waste anything. Now let’s get this chest to the shed, and open it.”
Bam! Bam! Grandpa swung his hammer hitting the lock. The lock’s side bent in, and the lid sprang open spilling out tarnished gold coins on the bench. Grandpa took one in his palm and rubbed it with an old cloth.
“Best I can see there are some Spanish markings. It’s hard to make out, and the coin is not very round. These may be from the shipments from Mexico in 1600. This chest is full! Must be close to a hundred of them!”
“Parker, we’re not going to tell anyone. We’re going to hide this. Once we start turtling and exploring with our dugout canoe, occasionally we will find one or two coins on a beach somewhere. That way we can sell them in Channel Bay, and no one will think they came from around here.”
“Ok, Grandpa.”
“Remember, no one! Otherwise the authorities may want to confiscate the treasure.”
“Not even grandma? What does confiscate mean?”
“Hold on Sonny, not so fast! Let me tell grandma, and confiscate means, take it away with the power of the law! Some day the gold coins will help you.”
“Parker, what do you think about this tree trunk? It’s straight and the perfect diameter. We’ve just got it cut to length. You did a great job today. Thank you for helping me cut it. You also did a great job finding it. Tomorrow we’ll cut the rest of the tree up and then make a skid to carry the limbs for the turtle crawl.”
“That was a lot of work, Grandpa!”
“Yep, Sonny, and now we’re ready for John and his mule.”
“Grandpa, what about the crocodile?”
“Ok, Sonny, you're right. It’s been a week and we’ve got a date with a croc’s hide.”
“What we go'in to do, Grandpa?”
“First we’re going to take this salted hide out of this saltwater tub. Then let’s carry it down to the water and rinse all of the salt out of it. Next we’re going to rub the flesh side with this oil I have. Hold it up there. We’re going to nail it to the sunny side of our shed with these small sharpened hardwood sticks we’ve made. Can’t use metal. It’ll rust and mark the hide. Pull on it. I want to stretch it out as we tack it. Now we’ll rub oil on this scale side.”
“What do we do next, Grandpa?” Parker questioned.
“Parker, we just wait a month or two and pray the wind, sun, and the oil tan it.”
“Well, John, what can we do to help you and your mule Dynamite get this mahogany log and limbs to our beach front?”
“That’s a mighty nice log you’uns got there. He can sure pull it, but let’s help him some. Dig down under the front of it and put a straight round log under it. We’ll debark it first. Then as we pull the big’un we’ll keep putting more logs under it, and we’ll easily pull it to your place. Once we get started it will roll right along. Dynamite can just coast.”
They moved slowly down the trail. Parker brought the roller logs up to the front of the big moving, mahogany trunk. He handed them to Grandpa. Then Grandpa laid them in front of the big log. Meanwhile up front John and Dynamite plodded slowly along.
“That is a mighty fine skid you made with those smaller logs, Grandpa. Sonny, your Gramps is mighty handy. Won’t take us long to get it pulled to your house,” John said admiringly.
“Well, John, what do I owe you?” Grandpa asked.
“Nary a thing,” John replied. “But I could us a few of those bigger skid logs. In fact, I could use a skid back home.”
“John, let’s move these smaller limbs off the skid. You help too, Parker. Parker and I need these to make a turtle crawl for his pet turtle. Then, John, you can have the whole skid. You can pull it to your place right after you sit a spell, and eat some lunch with us.”
“I can’t turn that down,” John replied.
“Parker, run get some water for Dynamite. Use that bucket hanging up in the shed.”
“Ok, Grandpa.” He ran over towards the shed.
“Let’s go inside. Grandma is getting something ready for us to snack on.”
“How do, John? Is the Missus well? Have a seat. I will bring out some food,” Grandma said.
“Thank’ee ma’m. She sure is do’n fine,” John answered.
“Hi, Grandma!” Parker rushed in. “What’s for lunch?”
“Don’t you fret, young’un. Run along, and wash up. You look a mess. What have these men had you ado 'in?”
“I’ve been working, Grandma.”
“You look like you’ve been mess’en!”
“Now Grandma, go easy on the boy. He’s been working hard! We’ve got all of that timber in with John and Dynamite's help.”
“I’ll bet Dynamite did it all,” she exclaimed jokingly.
“We couldn’t have done it without Dynamite’s help,” Grandpa put in.
Grandma came out with a steaming plate of fried fish. She then served baked yams.
“You men finish that and I have a dessert of sugared bananas. Now eat up!”
“Parker, it’s a new day. We’ve got a sail’n dugout canoe to build,” Grandpa stated.
From the Author:
My second full-length book , Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers is composed of 336 pages. There are 12 stories running from 6 pages to as many as 72 pages. It is fully illustrated with 88 watercolors and sketches. The watercolors I made roaming around Key West after I finished my 750 mile hike from Georgia to Key West. (See book or Don Browne’s SouthWest Online Florida News records, A Walk Across Florida.) As you read these stories you will experience Key West, the Keys, and the Caribbean. These stories span the time of the early 1800’s to 1969. bkranich.wixsite.com/bobkranich
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