L.F-Hist.Novelist Chapter 73 Caribbean Captain Isabella
Chapter 73 Caribbean Captain Isabella
"Captain Sean said that in two weeks we can make our first voyage near the coast. However, sir..." Fiona's tone hesitated slightly.
"Fiona, speak freely. You are an original shareholder, and you have the right to speak on these matters."
"Yes, sir. The crew's daily training and meals are a considerable expense. Mr. Finn has complained about this, feeling that such an investment is too high before the ship generates any revenue."
"Tell Finn that this is a necessary investment." Levi's gaze fell on the nautical chart on the wall.
"A ship that can only stay in port is just a pile of expensive wood. Only by getting it moving can it become a money-printing machine. Let Captain Sean go for it; money is not an issue."
Over the past five weeks, the North Side Pier of Boston has been undergoing visible changes.
The drunkards and fights that used to be commonplace have disappeared, replaced by workers wearing matching black short-sleeved shirts and black dragon badges pinned to their chests.
They lined up, methodically carrying goods from the hold to the dock or loading them from the warehouse onto the cargo ship, all at the beckoning of Finn's underlings.
Efficiency is the most direct feeling for all captains and cargo owners.
Orderliness was the most satisfactory assessment from the Governor-General's tax officials.
For the more than 1,000 dockworkers, the "mutual aid association" brought something more tangible.
It was the heavy copper penny you could get every day; it was being able to lie on a clean bed after being injured, waiting for the doctor to come; it was the peace of mind on Jack's wife's face when she took away two black breads from the accounting office every day.
As for the old captain Sean, he led a group of carefully selected young men, carrying out tedious rope and navigation training day after day.
Sean, drunk at the Green Dragon Tavern, slapped the bar and boasted to people that he had worked for more than a dozen ship owners, but only this Easterner was willing to spend a lot of money to support a ship full of people without urging them to go out to sea to make money. He said he would be a good ship owner.
Of course, Sean didn't know that Levi wasn't in no hurry; he was just waiting for a suitable "invoice".
Meanwhile, Fiona's intelligence network was also constantly collecting information on the routes and cargo of every ship John Hancock brought in and out of port, and the markings on the nautical chart were becoming increasingly dense.
Everything, like the expensive German clock in Li Wei's study, moved forward precisely and systematically.
All of this imbued the name "Mr. Li" with an almost sacred aura at the dock.
However, once an order is established, there will always be uninvited guests who try to challenge its boundaries.
Seven days later, in the afternoon.
A black dot appeared on the sea surface.
The observer on the watchtower quickly identified it as a two-masted schooner with a long, narrow hull and obviously modified sails, clearly designed for extreme speed.
The bow resembled a cobra flicking its tongue, and a faded Spanish flag flew at the stern, but any experienced sailor knew that this kind of ship never belonged to any country's navy.
It is a hyena of the sea, a ghost walking on the edge of the law.
"Warning! Unidentified vessel approaching at high speed! It is ignoring our pilot flag signals!" The watchtower bell rang, its urgent chimes echoing throughout the entire dock.
Finn was checking a batch of timber receipts in his office when he heard the bell. He grabbed the hand axe hanging on the wall and rushed out with his men.
"Damn it! Where did this mad dog come from, not following the rules!"
When Finn arrived at berth number seven, the smuggling ship, named "Viper," had already sliced through the water like a sharp blade and forcibly docked at the pier.
The gun ports on both sides of the ship were open, and the dark muzzles, like the eyes of wild beasts, vigilantly watched the growing crowd on the dock.
"Hey! Which boat? Who the hell told you to stop here?" Finn pushed through the crowd, walked to the front, and stared intently at the boat with his one eye.
A woman wearing a white shirt and a leather vest came out of the captain's cabin.
Her dark brown curly hair was tied back with a bright red headscarf, and her honey-colored skin glowed with a healthy sheen in the sunlight.
With a magnificent short scimitar at his waist, he crossed his arms and looked down at Finn on the dock.
It was the captain of this ship, Isabella de la Cruz.
"I thought it was someone calling, but it was just a watchdog with one eye missing." Isabella's English was heavily accented with Spanish, and her tone was full of mockery.
Finn's face flushed red, and he habitually touched his blindfold with his large fingers.
"According to Boston Harbor regulations, all vessels must berth in the outer harbor inspection area, be escorted in by our pilots, and have their vessel and cargo information registered!"
"Rules?" Isabella burst into laughter as if she had heard the funniest joke, her laughter hearty and unrestrained.
"My ship, Isabella's, has unloaded cargo in front of the Governor's Palace in Havana, restocked rum in the harbor of New Orleans, and throughout the Caribbean, my ship is the rule! When did it become your place, you Boston dock rats, to talk to me about rules?"
With a wave of her hand, the sailors behind her began to lower the gangway, preparing to forcibly unload the cargo.
"Let's see who dares!" Finn roared, and hundreds of dockworkers behind him immediately surrounded him, holding iron hooks and crowbars, confronting the sailors on the ship who had drawn their scimitars.
The air instantly became tense, and a bloody brawl was about to break out.
But Finn ultimately suppressed his anger as Levi's orders came to mind.
"If something can be resolved with rules, don't resort to violence. Bloodshed is the most costly way to negotiate and the most foolish way to handle a situation."
He didn't give the order to act, but simply winked at someone behind him.
Several underlings immediately and silently dispersed from the crowd. They didn't grab weapons, but instead ran towards the empty barges moored in the inner harbor.
Isabella didn't take the dockworkers' threats seriously at all; her men were outlaws who had been through storms and bloodshed.
She looked at Finn with disdain and ordered her first mate, "Start unloading! I want to see who among these cowards dares to stop us!"
However, just as her sailors were carrying the first case of rum up the gangway, something strange happened.
A dozen or so heavy barges, loaded with ballast stones, surrounded the area from all directions, operated by dozens of workers.
They did not approach the Viper, but rather, from a distance, slowly and deliberately, one after another, sank in the narrow main channel.
There was no shouting, no threats.
After finishing their work, the workers silently returned to the shore, rejoined the crowd, and coldly watched them.
Isabella's laughter stopped abruptly.
Her first mate, a burly man with a scar on his face, rushed to her side, his voice tinged with panic: "Captain! They...they've blocked the channel! We're trapped!"
Isabella rushed to the ship's side and looked at the barges with only their masts sticking out of the water; her face turned grim.
Enraged, she drew her curved sword and pointed it at Finn: "One-Eyed Bug! Do you want to die?!"
However, Isabella was a shrewd pirate and immediately realized that this was not a street brawl, but a premeditated and organized operation.
You could order the cannons to fire and turn the dock into a sea of fire. But then what?
Although her boat was fast, it couldn't withstand the onslaught of thousands of workers on shore. A direct assault would only result in the destruction of the boat and the loss of life.
She is a shrewd businesswoman, not a bloodthirsty madwoman.
"Go and find out," Isabella's voice calmed. "Who's in charge of the Boston docks now?"
That very night, Isabella obtained the information she wanted.
Today, the North Wharf is controlled by an organization called the "Boston Wharf Mutual Aid Association." The mastermind behind this organization is a mysterious man from the East, whom people call "Mr. Li."
After listening to her subordinates' various rumors about how this "Mr. Li" had integrated the docks and established order within a month, Isabella paced back and forth in her captain's cabin.
Begging for mercy? That's not Isabella's style.
Negotiation? She can't even see the other party now; she's lost all her leverage.
In the dead of night, the moonlight was like water.
Isabella changed into a black outfit that allowed her to move around easily, and put her striking curly hair up in a bun, covering it with a black cloth.
She selected five of her most agile henchmen, each carrying only a dagger and a rope.
"Tonight, we're going to pay a visit to this 'Mr. Li'," Isabella said with a sneer. "I want to ask him myself just how strict his rules really are."