The Pirate Condo Martin

By Lew Dabb

Calvin Wiggins, the fifth son of a London blacksmith grew up with another boy destined to be a pirate, Condo Martin. Condo Martin's mother had died when he was young, and his father, once a master swordsman, drowned his sorrows in a bottle. As these two unlikely friends grew their paths went in separate directions. Cal became a master blacksmith, determined to take his skills to the untamed west in America, while Condo became a famous pirate.

In their final adventure together they must battle nature and a ruthless merchant ship's captain to get Condo a new ship, and Cal to the wild American west.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neil Dabb
• Release date: Mar 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301866809

Lew Dabb

Lewis Dabb grew up in Northern Utah on various farms owned by his father. At an early age he learned to play Spanish and steel guitar and had a love of music most of his life. After marrying he moved to Cache Valley (in Northern Utah) and raised four sons. He was an amateur blacksmith, and a freelance writer. He passed away without seeing any of the stories he wrote in the public domain, but with the advent of E-books his stories can now be shared with the world.

Book preview

The Pirate Condo Martin

by

Lew Dabb

Published by Neil Dabb at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Neil Dabb

THE PIRATE CONDO MARTIN

by

Lew Dabb

CHAPTER 1

The sleek Dutch clipper ship sat low in the water. She had taken a cannon ball just aft of the fore-castle and the forward mainsle mast was near cut in two by another. Every able bodied man was busy repelling the attack from the pirates who had fired on us and were now attempting to come aboard. We were on the high seas two weeks out of the port of France when the square rigged pirate craft came down on us. We had little warning because of the fog.

I was a blacksmith by trade, but I was a fair hand with the sword. My father had taught me how to fence and my brothers and I had grown up testing our skills against one another. Our blacksmith shop in London specialized in knife and sword making so the blade was no stranger to me. With some luck I was able to beat the two men I'd encountered. I won the bout by simply forcing them back until they turned and fled. The crew of the Dutch craft were well schooled in the art of rough and tumble fighting. Captain Parkenson was a no nonsense man who held the respect of every man on his crew. The men respected him not because of fear but because they were fairly dealt with. Each man on the crew was allowed to invest a portion of his wages, if he wished to, in the cargo and thus could share in the profit of the venture. The captain was a shrewd business man and trader, so the men usually realized a considerable increase on their investment. Having an interest in the cargo, they made every effort to protect it.

It looked as though the pirates had given up. As they hastened a retreat back to their own vessel, I found myself face to face with the leader of the scoundrels. We locked swords in a scrimmage for the line that had been sent over for him. I found myself looking into familiar eyes. I had seen this face many times in my life. This was a man I could never forget. We stood motionless and I could see that the recognition was mutual. As the lock broke, I half heartedly thrust. With little effort he parried my thrust and knocked the sword from my hand. I did not look to see where it landed for I knew I was no match for this man. The pirate leader smiled then saluted with the hilt of his sword. He wrapped the line around his left fore-arm, and swung toward his ship. His one handed hold on the line gave way and he fell into the water. His crew hoisted him aboard as they set sail. Though we had guns on that side of the clipper, our captain held fire, wanting to give them no reason to remain since they had decided to leave us alone.

The clipper was still afloat. The hole was at the water line on the starboard side. We were taking on water. By shifting the cargo, the hole was tipped up out of the water so that the ships carpenter could get it plugged. After an hour of turns on the bilge pumps we were able to get under way.

When we had set sail from France, it was for the new land of America. I had grown up in England but I had come to France on a holiday when I reached my 20th birthday. I had fallen incurable in love with one of the Parie's most beautiful young ladies. Francine and I were married and remained in France to live for the next few months. Though I was able to work with the local blacksmith shop, there was a dream of America in the back of my mind that kept haunting me. I had been there once as a boy and knew that I must go back someday. Though the cities had built on the eastern coast of America, there was a land to the west that was still wild and open. There were no kings or lords to answer to. It was a vast new land with room and opportunity for anyone who had the courage to go.

My father's shop in London was well manned. I was the youngest of five brothers. And though I loved them all dearly, I could not be content to remain there to share the business with them.

To my surprise Francine was overjoyed with the idea when I suggested making the trip. She had never known her father or mother and had grown up in orphanages and boarding schools. She had lived in Paris most of her life but she had few ties and no family. Within a weeks time we had booked passage on the clipper for the new land.

He knew who you were, and you him? Francine said, as she came from the passageway where she had been watching.

You were here? You may have been in danger. I said. Yes, I knew him. We were lads together in London. He went away when we were seventeen years old, I hadn't seen him since. I'd heard rumors that he had turned pirate, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it.

Who is he? Francine asked.

As we walked back to our cabin I explained to Francine how I came to be acquainted with the famous Condo Martin, buccaneer and pirate.

My father worked for a blacksmith whose shop was just a few streets away from