Cielita put both arms around the young Indian’s neck and held him close as he carried her through the palm grove and into a large patch of Surinam cherries, far from the salt beach. He let her down on the pine needle carpet of the forest floor and removed his silk loin cloth. Gently, he untied the drawstring on her white breeches and slid them down over her legs. Crouching over her, he untied the shirt that covered her firm, young breasts, all the while licking her wrists that caressed his face and neck.

Canoe Maker LaFitte, son of notorious pirate, Jean LaFitte took his first woman that night. He took the willing daughter of José Gaspar, the notorious pirate who had named himself Gasparilla. Cielita Gaspar drew him in and immediately screamed in pain. Her passion for him was so great, she rode past that pain and clutched at him as he drove his passion deep inside her virginal body.

“Canoe Maker!” she breathed wildly. “You are my first! I would not have allowed this had I not seen you build a fleet. I will not play with a man of questionable valor. You are the one I desire, the only one who is truly a man, a leader of men! You are of Jean LaFitte – truly a man and a leader of men!”

Canoe Maker articulated in his strange Indian language, mixed with bits of French and a little of her own language, all the time flashing that smile, caressing her, licking her body, suckling her breasts. She trembled as he loomed over her. Grasping both his shoulders, she rose to meet him as he plunged deep into her a second time. All night, the two slept on the forest floor, making love, feeding one another the resinous Surinam cherries and chattering unintelligibly.

When Jean LaFitte awoke, some children were there to feed him and care for him. He could hear the carpenters, who had swarmed over the Cielita Linda and begun the huge task of making the mighty galleon again seaworthy.

Directing the repairs of various parts of the ship, the healing crew, along with Cid and Rosco worked feverishly to put her back together.

Canoe Maker had recruited some of his crew to drag the tall pines to shore where they pulled them out to the waiting ship. The workers had laboriously removed the great mast from the triple-decker and were prepared to insert the new pine.

Within a month, the vessel was “shipshape” and ready to sail. The brightest silks, brocades, cotton, linen and even wool had been converted into sheets of sailcloth, sewn together by the many hands of older women and men. Various weights of extra Agave rope had been piled in neat coils on her deck where they would come in handy when needed.

Just as the islanders gathered for their journey from the beach to the Cielita Linda, she turned to a beautiful sight. There strolling hand-in-hand she saw her niece, Norla Gaspar and Carlos Medina.

The Cielita Linda set sail from Captiva Island, headed for New Orleans on September 5, 1822, nine months from the time the USS Enterprise sank the Floridablanca.