Pt. 5 Does she care for me, or is it just a dream? By: Clifton Seeney

​Cadman Saballa was one of the Moroccans Viceroy servants he
told me later that he was not a Moor or a Moroccan but a Nubian from the sands of
Egypt. We met Cadman as we all were setting on the deck in the heat of the day all trying
to cool off. There was no wind and the crew and the mates had to get into long boats and
row this ship till we caught the wind. Funny how you find the strangest ami in the most
difficult situation. He said that he was a servant and not a slave. He said a slave is
someone who is won in battle or captured in the way that they kidnapped those Noir
slaves. He was hired out to serve by his family when he was very young. I could not see
the difference in what he was saying. He was not free to go anywhere but following the
Viceroy his master. We became very good ami and I look forward in the evening talking
to him. He would tell me of all the places that he has been, from the Kremlin in Russia to
the gates of the Hong Empire in China to the mighty Empire of Java to the capital of the
United States. The Moroccan were trying to make peace with the rest of the world while
the Barbary Pirates were at war. We are not Barbaric like the Barbers he said they are cut
throats. As we began to work together the crew and my mates began to develop
friendships Captain El Said Ben Bay was not going to have any of that for now on the
crew and my mates did rowing at different times and the work was done at different
times. Cadman Saballa asked me what part of Africa did I come from before we were
separated. I told him that I was born in France in Northeastern France near the Baden
Border. He looked at me in amazement, he said “ France “.I told him that my father was
French and my mother was from Morocco the city of Said, Sidi Said, Morocco (is a
hamlet in Morocco located at 28° 27' 36" North, 10° 34' 12"). He was in total Amazement
then I told him that these are not my people that I feel myself to be French more then I
ever felt Moroccan. He said but your mother is Moroccan that makes you a Moroccan
and a Moor. I just did not know what to say after that I cannot not even speak Moroccan.
And the only words that I learned where at El Kidi a few years ago.
“Sails”, a loud shoot rang out “now more sails!” We knew that it was the Hound and its
decoy ships!
Boom ,boom, bang ,Bang went the guns in the far distance. Then a huge explosion, we
could tell by the downward looks on the Moroccans that their escort ship had caught on
fire and sunk. It would be hard for Captain El Said Ben Bay to out maneuver the Hound
and it’s support ships, the only thing that saved them that day was the darkest night I have
ever seen. The Hound would not find this ship with the small amount of wind and the
crew rowing from the front in this god awful darkness. We could lose the Hound and it’s
escorts in the darkness and they could sail right by us and we would never know. There
must be a way to signal the Hound, I have yet to come up with a plan. One of the mates
said if we could light just a small light the Hound could see us . the only problem with
that is none of us were allowed to light anything or be on the main deck after lights outs.
Only the Moroccans were allowed above deck during this crisis and only the rowing crew
had a light and that was put out after dusk.
Join the Crew next month(August) Looking for hope in a
dark place