(SA) Impossible Odds

Adventure! Tonight's story by Ron Evans is entitled, Impossible Odds.

The Napoleonic War was still raging when the small Liverpool-registered brig, William and Mary, slipped out of the West African Creek. Her holds filled by 750 slaves. She was bound for the market of Kingston, Jamaica.

The mass of humanity below decks had been bought from one of the numerous slave factories, and consisted of prisoners taken in tribal wars, debtors, and lesser criminals. Captain Hugh Crow, though a slaver, was as humane as a man could be in his position, and did all he could to alleviate the anxiety and suffering of his reluctant passengers.

The forty years he had sailed from Liverpool to West Africa, from there to the West Indies and back to Liverpool, with a general cargo, had led to many adventures, but nothing so strange and terrifying as the one you are about to hear.

It was late afternoon, some fifty miles off the West African coast, and Captain Crow was taking his nap. See, it was calm, and a light breeze blew out from the mangrove swabs. Pass with the telescope, Jackson.

It's here, well sir, looks like a Frenchman by her rig. Mmm. Yeah. Could a little bee. Oh, she is bedabbed. They go and call the captain. Hi, I sir. There's a sail on these starboard bows, sir.

A Frenchman, I think. Sure, but... Yes, sir. Mr. Morgan agrees with me. Oh, very well. Tell him I'll join him on the poop in a minute. Elvin, ten points to port. Hi, sir. Ten points to port?

Right. By a steady issue. Steady as she goes, sir. Afternoon, Mr. Baldwin. Give me a tresco. It's a French one for certain, Captain. You're right. A navy frigate. Oh, look. Look. It is he's turning towards us.