<div class="floatleft">(https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51JuEU6%2B-lL._SX466_.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Devon Black<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Esperanza, leaving Port Royal<br/><strong>Time &amp; Date</strong>: Day 2 | Late Morning (11:00 AM)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Waiting to strike<br/><hr/><br/><br/>It had been a hard day's sail and the crew had performed well.  There were notable exceptions of course but on the whole they had done better than Devon had any right to expect a new crew to perform.  They'd posted extra watches as they sailed through the night and now that they were at anchor north of the Turks, all they needed to do was wait.<br/><br/>Devon was rather pleased with the place he'd chosen to conceal the ship.  They were behind a hill, so the masts were hidden from sight.  He'd debated entering the bay but decided against it, it was open enough that the wind would fill their sails when raised but if they needed speed immediately, there might be some delay in reaching open water.  He wanted nothing to come between him and satisfying the captain's wishes.<br/><br/>They'd posted a lookout by the point, in a longboat.  They'd spot any ship long before they were spotted themselves and would be back to the<em>Esperanza  </em>long before she would need to hoist anchor.  They would be ready to strike when the moment arrived.<br/><br/>The crew waited in a variety of ways.  Some slept.  Some tended weapons for the fourth time.  One or two, Devon noted,  checked the various ropes.  He'd done the same thing, twice.  Now he waited at the helm, ready to give the order to set sail.<br/><br/>"Longboat's coming!" cried the lookout.<br/><br/>Whatever activity was going on halted as everyone took their stations and waited for the boat to come within hailing distance so they'd know what their prey would turn out to be.<br/><br/>"Stand by to ship the boat," Devon called out, as eager as anyone to hear the news.  More-so, actually<br/><br/>"She's a two masted brig, flying French colours," announced the lookout.  "Fifty footer.  Not under full sail but close.  I'd expect her to hoist more canvas once she's into the trade winds."<br/><br/>Devon nodded and looked at the captain.  "We can take her easily.  I'd give her a few minutes to clear the channel and then give chase.  You'll have your prize within an hour captain."<br/><br/>It was actually forty two minutes before the merchant ship cleared the point and Devon gave the orders.<br/><br/>"Hoist the anchor!  Raise the sails!  Let's show our captain what we're made of!"<br/><br/>Once ship was underway and the battle was about to commence, the<em>Esperanza</em>would belong to the captain and first mate.  This moment?  This moment she was<em>his.</em>