Shanghaied

September 14, 1863

The C.S.S. Raleigh was two days west of Liverpool. The blockade runner was headed full sail for Richmond. The sleek cruiser carried enough coal to last eighteen days of steaming, and enough sailcloth to run fifteen knots, fast enough to outrun anything the Yankees had afloat. She was the pride of the Confederacy and a thorn in the side of the Union navy.

Captain Patterson felt like a mother hen on the back of a thoroughbred stallion. Below him was a hold packed with much-needed supplies and, more important, gold headed for the coffers of the Confederate government. While he knew that his ship was the fastest in the Atlantic, he also knew that overconfidence had been the downfall of many of his fellow captains, and when the gold was safe in Richmond he would rest much easier.

It was on the second night that the lights appeared. One moment the Raleigh was alone; the next the lights were hovering next to them. Within moments the crew scrambled to their stations to combat this unknown foe. Cannons were rolled out; rifles were pulled from racks and loaded. Captain Patterson commanded the helmsman to bring the rudder hard to port in an effort to lose the bothersome spectacle, but it was to no avail; the lights remained steadfast. Minutes went by. No shots were fired. No boarding party swarmed aboard. Then, as it had appeared, so it vanished.

Captain Patterson was not a superstitious man, nor did he believe in witchcraft, but he was at a loss to explain the phenomenon. The salty captain had seen Saint Elmo's fire dancing from the spars. He had seen glowing swamp gases in his native Louisiana. He had even seen the beautiful dance of the northern lights, but none of them had been as unrelenting as the lights he had just seen.

As he started forward from the helm, Gunner's Mate Vincent McCoy came clambering up the ladder.

"Suh! Gun crew six is missin'."

The captain turned. "Missing? What do you mean missing? Weren't they at their station?"

"Yes, suh." McCoy nodded. "They were… and then they wasn't."

The captain scowled. He didn't like cowards. The men on his ship had been handpicked for their bravery and fighting ability. "Find them and bring them to the mast. I don't abide men who leave their posts."

McCoy nodded, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, suh. I'm not explainin' myself rightly. They vanished… I saw, uh, it with my own eyes."

The captain looked into the mate's eyes for the first time. Even in the darkness he could see the fear there. "What are you babbling about?"

"God as my witness, suh! The light shone in on them, and then they were gone. It was like the rapture in the Bible."

The captain's scowl deepened. "It wasn't the rapture! It was some damn Yankee trick! A hot-air balloon!"

McCoy cocked his head in confusion. "Suh?"

"An observation balloon," the captain explained gruffly. "The Yankees have used them before to spy on our camps. No doubt there's a Union ship nearby. They landed on our ship and captured those men in the confusion."

The fear in the man's face vanished. A rational explanation of an attack was much better than the unknown.

"Yes, suh!"

"Keep the gun crews ready," the captain spat. "If they come back we'll show them some lights."

The gunner's mate snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, suh!"

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