Colonial Capers

By Henri Bauhaus

In a darkened boathouse on the edge of Boston Harbor, Phineas Phillips and a small band of dissidents sit quietly watching two British ships that are at anchor along the Pearl Street Wharf. Soon a band of heathen Indians will board the two schooners and toss all the tea into the harbor. With advance knowledge of what may happen, Phineas and friends have a different plan in mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Henri Bauhaus
• Release date: Nov 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310964282

Henri Bauhaus

My short stories and novellas tend to have one foot based in a real life situation and the other one set in an imaginary or parallel world. Much of my literary background comes from a nomadic lifestyle that began when I left the safe haven of my college town (Syracuse, NY) and headed for the Caribbean Coast of Mexico, where I planned to be a beach bum for a winter. Upon my return to the USA, I settled in the colorful city of New Orleans, but since those carefree days I have lived in many parts of the U.S. and traveled extensively in Canada and Europe. I blog at http://yeyeright.wordpress.com.

Book preview

Colonial Capers (the Freshwater Mariners)

by Henri Bauhaus

Copyright © 2014 Henri Bauhaus

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

**********

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

This file is licensed for private individual entertainment only. The book contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, stored in or introduced into an information retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photographic, audio recording, or otherwise) for any reason (excepting the uses permitted to the licensee by copyright law under terms of fair use) without the specific written permission of the author.

Colonial Capers (the Freshwater Mariners)

It was a dark and snowy night upon the Boston Harbor. Large fluffy flakes drifted down from the heavens, dissolving into nothing as they landed softly on the dark, salty liquid. Only the wooden forms of the ships and schooners held the frozen precipitation. Gradually, the snow built up, creating a ghastly, alabaster lacework in the chilled evening air.

Around town, nearly every indoor hearth supported a roaring fire, but the fiery combustion had also spread to the hearts and minds of all the good men and women, who now dwelt in the prosperous Colonial settlement, called Massachusetts. The source of unrest was the distant and often insular Motherland, whose imperial ways, had brought the Colonies to the edge of revolt.

All day long a damp and chilly northeasterly breeze had made life uncomfortable, as the early curtain of darkness brought no relief from Old Man Winter's icy breath. At the water's edge, small waves gently bumped against the protected wharfs and as the snow piled up, city residents prepared for another night of seasonal festivities. Cider, grog, mead and wine flowed freely amidst the harbor's more prosperous homes, as did the glad tidings of a hot toddy or warm buttered rum.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit waterfront lanes, horses hooves and wooden carriage wheels clattered over rough, cobblestone surfaces, neatly fashioned from the ballast of the tall cargo ships, which in these prosperous times seemed to arrive almost daily.

The hollow sounds carried far into the night, bouncing off the brick homes and warehouses and careening down twisted streets. Amidst the silent downward flight of snowflakes, high-peaked roofs took on grotesque