PFC Chapter 39 Buying the First Ship
Chapter 39 Buying the First Ship
The person who arrived knocked on the warehouse door, left Fiona with only a heavy leather bag, and left without saying a word.
The leather bag was filled with gleaming gold coins.
Fiona poured the gold coins onto the table and counted them one by one. Her hands, which were usually so steady and quick when cutting black bread, trembled slightly as she touched the cold metal.
"Mr. Li, there are one hundred in total. According to the black market price of gold, that's over five hundred pounds."
Five hundred pounds of gold.
This money is several times more than what Boyle Bakery earned in ten years.
For the first time, she realized so directly that the information that could not be seen or touched was more valuable than any kind of cargo at the dock.
Li Wei calmly picked up a gold coin, weighed it between his fingers, walked to the window, and quickly completed a new transaction in his mind with that money.
Finn.
"Yes, sir."
"Go to the slave market in town and find a Dutch merchant named Clemens. Boyle mentioned earlier that he's in a hurry to get back to Amsterdam and has a ship to sell."
Li Wei turned around and pointed to the gold.
"Use this money to buy the ship. Be quick, I need to see the deed to the ship before nightfall."
Finn received the order, stuffed the money bag into his pocket, and strode out of the warehouse.
He disliked the calculating atmosphere of the warehouse and preferred the fishy and rum-scented air of the docks.
He quickly found the ship at the long dock; it was called "Flying Fox," a two-masted sailing ship.
The ship's hull lines are sleek, clearly built for speed, but now it looks somewhat dilapidated. The paint on the hull is peeling from the sea winds, and there's a clear repair mark on the mainmast.
A stout businessman wearing a heavy woolen coat was pacing anxiously on the deck; it was Clemons.
When he saw Finn, the one-eyed strongman, walk onto the plank, he immediately put on a businessman's smile.
"Good afternoon, sir! Interested in buying a boat? This is the best boat in Boston! Fast, spacious cargo hold, and it just had its hull cleaning and ballast adjustments done in Antwerp last year!"
Finn ignored his boasting, walked straight to the mainmast, and tapped the repair mark with his thick fingers, making a dull sound.
"Was this place hit by artillery shells?"
Clemens's expression changed. "No, no, no, it was just a small storm, a little damage. It'll be repaired and stronger than new!"
"Really?" Finn walked to the ship's side and pointed to a row of cannons.
"These little cannons aren't even big enough to fit a twelve-pound cannon; are they just for scaring away seagulls?"
He walked around the deck, touching and kicking things here and there, making disgusted clicking sounds all the while.
"The rigging needs replacing too. Look at this foremast support cable, it's almost broken. And this deck, it feels so soft and spongy underfoot, I'm afraid there are ship maggots underneath."
Clemons was sweating profusely from what he said.
"Sir, you are truly an expert. But the hull is made of the finest North American oak, and the keel is sturdy—it's definitely a fine boat! I only want seven hundred and fifty pounds, but considering your expertise, seven hundred pounds!"
Finn touched his blindfold and gave a cold laugh.
"Seven hundred pounds? Just for this wrecked ship that just escaped the cannons of privateers? You don't think I, One-Eyed Finn, am some naive kid who's never seen a ship before, do you?"
"I bet you don't even have this temporary trading license, otherwise you wouldn't be in such a hurry to sell here. The whole of Boston is watching smuggled goods right now, and your ship could be seized by the Royal Navy as spoils of war as soon as it leaves port."
Clemons' thoughts were completely seen through, and his face turned as red as a pig's liver.
"I'll offer a maximum of four hundred pounds," Finn said, holding up four fingers.
"It's only because it has a good ship design. The cost also has to include the expenses for repairing the ship and smoothing things over with the navy."
"Impossible! This isn't even enough to cover my costs!" Clemons screamed.
"Then good luck, Dutchman. I hope you find another buyer before you're sent to the gallows." Finn turned and left without hesitation.
He had just stepped off the diving board when he heard Clemons's tearful shouts behind him.
"Wait! Sir! Wait! Five hundred pounds! No lower than that! I swear, this is my bottom line!"
Finn stopped and slowly turned around. "Four hundred and fifty pounds. Cash, payable now. My men will have the contract ready in no time."
Looking at Finn's fierce single eye, Clemons completely lost his temper and nodded dejectedly.
Half an hour later, Finn returned to the warehouse with a surplus of fifty pounds of gold and a signed ship transfer contract.
Back in the warehouse, Levi had Fiona accept the contract and casually asked:
"Finn, Seamus told me that when you became the leader of the North District Brotherhood in Boston, you got a lot of support from your captain relative. Our ship doesn't have a captain yet."
Upon hearing this, Finn's eyes showed not only awe but also gratitude.
Indeed, back then, apart from my physique and my fair nature, I had absolutely no resources to form a fraternity.
It was that distant relative who always took the initiative to leave the cargo for himself and his brothers to unload every time they docked, which led to what we have today.
Finn was lost in thought, and before he could speak, he heard Li Wei's instructions.
"Finn, you set the captain's salary. Have him repair the ship using the best timber and ropes. Recruit twenty more trustworthy sailors, and increase their salaries by thirty percent. Remember to file an expense report for Fiona!"
"Sir... I thank you on behalf of Sean."
That night, Finn, with two gleaming gold coins tucked in his pocket, walked into "The Drowned Pirate," the dirtiest tavern in the docks.
The tavern was filled with smoke, a mixture of cheap alcohol and the sour stench of sweat. In the darkest corner, he found the person he was looking for.
Sean O'Malley, Finn's distant cousin, is an old captain in his fifties.
His face was as withered as a walnut from the sea breeze, and his hands were covered with calluses and scars from years of pulling on the cable.
Sean was drinking watered-down beer alone, staring blankly at the sticky wooden table in front of him.
"Sean." Finn sat down opposite him and pushed a gold coin towards him.
Sean raised his bloodshot eyes, looked at Finn, then at the gold coins, his voice hoarse. "What, struck it rich? Came to pity this old man who lost his ship?"
"I'm not here to pity you."
Finn then took out another gold coin and placed it next to the first one.
"I'll hire a captain."
Sean's breath hitched, and he roared, "What? I heard you're in charge of both the North and South docks now. Are you here to mock a down-on-his-luck captain who's lost his ship? Get the hell out of here!"
"My boss bought a ship, the Dutchman's Flying Fox at the dock. He needs a trustworthy person to steer it, someone who knows how to avoid patrol boats and how to protect the cargo in a storm."
"Your boss?" Sean's tone was full of suspicion.
"An Asian? Does he even know what waterline or sailing against the wind is?"
"He doesn't understand, but he knows how to feed his men and how to keep the British quiet."
Finn leaned forward. "Sean, this isn't the Navy. There aren't so many ridiculous rules. As long as you deliver the cargo safely, you're in charge on the ship. Your salary is double what it used to be, plus there's a bonus for every voyage."
Sean fell silent. He looked at the two gold coins on the table, then thought about his current wretched appearance.
The sea is his home; a captain without a ship is not even as good as a dockworker.
He picked up his glass, downed the last bit of bitter beer in one gulp, then slammed the glass down on the table and shouted at the bar owner:
"He'll pay the bill!"
"Finn, take me to see the ship."