Chapter 4

I departed Los Angeles aboard the Sara Lee, a packet boat that touched in every port that looked like a bit of money could be made. Therefore, we were not going to make very good time getting to my port, San Luis. At least the weather was fine and the winds favorable as far as San Diego. Thus, I was able to get my sea legs under very favorable conditions, something I greatly appreciated.

As we moved south, the lookout was more anxious about spotting a pirate soon enough for us to run—we were not going to fight unless we had to. I was in favor of that because one never knew what the outcome of a fight might be, since chance could be so important.

Well, it was bound to happen, a pirate was spotted only hours after we left San Diego. Unfortunately, we were going to have to tack to escape, and that made it very problematical. The pirates were probably counting on that. Our boat was a little smaller than the pirates’ boat, so they could sail faster than we could. We were still nearly two hours out of San Diego when the pirate caught up to us close enough for me to use my rifle.

I climbed onto some crates lashed to the deck and lay prone to get as steady a rest as possible. The boat was not rocking much because all the sail was put on in our effort to get as much speed as possible. I set up my first shot at maximum range and aimed at the helmsman. Without a helmsman, there was no way that we could be caught, no matter how good the pirate captain might be.

The range at this point was almost 200 yards, but I had a full charge of air and 21 balls before I had to reload the magazine. I lay in position and found the helmsman in my sights. I let the boat rock back and forth a couple of times to get the feel of the rhythm. Once I had that, I was sure that I could hit my mark. The muzzle velocity was roughly 800 feet per second, so the ball was going to be in flight for roughly 2 seconds before hitting the target. In this short of shooting, patience was a virtue.

I fired off my first shot, and I did not wait before trying for a second shot. The many variables I had to contend with made it unlikely that my first shot would score a hit, so I launched a second shot as quickly as possible. Yes, the first shot missed, but the second shot did not. I had fired a third shot in case the second shot missed, but I saw the helmsman fall just as the third shot was fired.

The hit was not immediately fatal, and that was to our advantage. The wounded helmsman fell to one side, and he instinctively held on to one side of the wheel as he tipped over. That caused the wheel to make a sharp turn away from us, and more space appeared between the two vessels. At first, the captain obviously did not know why the helmsman was lying on the deck, still holding on to the wheel with one hand, forcing that boat to continue to turn away from us. At that distance, my rifle could not possibly be heard, so he did not know that it was a bullet that caused the problem with the helmsman.

It seemed to me that it was with disgust that the pirate captain called for two other pirates to pull the man away from the wheel to make room for a new helmsman. At this point, there was no way for the pirates to catch us, so we resumed our course south.

A seaman ran up to me as I was replacing the three spent balls in my rifle’s magazine and said that the Captain wanted to see me. I did not know for sure what he wanted, but I assumed that he wanted to congratulate me for shooting the pirates’ helmsman.

That’s what he wanted, but he also wanted to know more about my “magic” rifle that fired a bullet without making a noise. It was also the first repeating rifle that he had ever heard of. I explained how the rifle worked on compressed air and where the rifle came from.

“That is a wonderful rifle. Where can I get one?”

“As far as I know, they are no longer being made. A competent gunsmith could probably copy this one, but I do not want to give it up for that long. I wish that I could be more helpful.” We talked a little more, and I left when the Captain had to take over running the boat.

We were very lucky and saw no more pirates before we came to San Luis. There I left the packet boat and bought a horse for the trip to San Juan. The directions I had were adequate because there was only one road leading inland from San Luis, and that road led directly to San Juan. It took me a day and a half to reach San Juan, so it was a good thing that I had picked up the necessary camping supplies in San Luis. I showed up at the brewery shortly after lunch, and I was taken directly to the plant manager as soon as I told them why I was there.

I was ushered into his office, and I handed him the letter from Hernandez. He told me to be seated while he read the letter. That took some time because he reread the letter two more times, and I was sure that he had it memorized. I am sure that I was mentioned in the letter beyond the fact that I was the messenger and guide because the manager began to treat me with more respect than before. Previously, he was simply courteous, but now he was even more gracious than that.

Between my broken Spanish and his broken English, we discussed several trivial matters. Finally, he said, “Sr. Summinski, you must be tired. Unfortunately, San Juan does not have accommodations that are suitable for an august person such as you. Under the circumstances, would you be willing to make use of the spare room in my house? Hopefully, I can find better accommodations for you in a short time.”

“Please, Sr. Alvarez, do not put yourself out because of me. I am really not an august personage. I just have the pleasure of having Sr. Hernandez as my employer. I can stay practically anywhere that there is an open space.”

I thought Alvarez was going to faint when I said that. He insisted that I stay at his home for tonight and as long as necessary. Well, I did not want to hurt his feelings, so I agreed with many thanks.

He still had some work to do, so he had me taken to his house in his carriage. My horse was hitched to the rear. Since my Spanish was so poor and Sra. Alvarez had no English, the coachman explained why I was there and what Sr. Alvarez wanted her to do with me. I caught a little of what the coachman said, and I deduced that I was held in high regard.

Anyway, I was ushered into the Alvarez’s home and made very comfortable. Sra. Alvarez tried to entertain me, but it was soon obvious that she was out of her league when it came to talking to a foreigner who could not speak courtly Spanish.

Thankfully, this did not last long because Sr. Alvarez came home early so that we could discuss just how to handle the movement of the four experts to Los Angeles. It seemed that the best bet would be to follow my course to San Juan in reverse. As far as anyone knew, the next boat or ship scheduled to stop at San Luis would be the same packet boat that I had taken from Los Angeles. Unfortunately, that would be just over three weeks from now, if it were on schedule.

The other option would be to wait just a little longer, four and a half weeks, and take the larger ship that would carry the next load of Mexicali Delight to Los Angeles. That ship was due on a specific date as compared to the approximate date that the Sara Lee would dock in San Luis. The pirates rarely bothered with the beer shipments, so there was little to no worry about that. I immediately jumped on the choice of the beer-laden ship as the preferred way to travel since there would be less chance of something happening to the brewery experts and inconveniencing Sr. Hernandez. Sr. Alvarez immediately agreed, so that was settled.

Of course, I ate dinner with the Alvarez family. I retired to my room as soon after that as possible so that I would not trouble Sra. Alvarez. I hope that she took that in the way I intended it, but I was never going to find out.

The next day, I was sitting on the Alvarez’s veranda and watching the world go by, consisting mostly of peons leading donkeys laden with small packs. I had been doing that for about an hour and getting very bored when a carriage drew to a stop near where I was sitting. I noticed that the Hernandez monogram was emblazoned on the carriage, so I knew that the young lady in the carriage had to be related to my employer.