1977 Postmasters Transatlantic Steamship Medal, The Sky Pirate Eduardo 'Blackbeard' Molto

kerrislravenhill (73)in Silver Gold Stackers • 5 months ago (edited)

“Black birds tend to like shiny things.” ~ The Bloody Raven.

I had this medal for quite some time unsure of how I will present this silver gem. Not a sailing ship but the early steamship that usher in Steam powered ships that were no longer dependent solely on the trade winds.

The Silver Medal

The First Transatlantic crossing by Steamship

Front; The Curacao arriving in Paramaribo Weight 20.3g of 0.925 Silver Diameter 38.6 mm x 2.1mmThickness

This medal is of one of a 36 sterling silver (92.5% silver) medal set issued in 1977 by the International Society of Postmasters commemorating historic events with their respective First Day covers.
On April 26, 1827 the English built steamer Curcao travelled from the Dutch port of Hellevoetsluis to Paramaribo in Dutch Surinam. The steamer under the command of Lt. JW Moli crossed the Atlantic and reached her destination in 28 days.
Her maiden voyage was not without problems. The paddle wheels frequently required repairs. Her two engines needed frequent cleaning and repairs, and the boiler leaked. The Curacao continued until 1830 making a total of three voyages delivering passengers, cargo and mail to the Dutch colony.

The First Transatlantic crossing by Steamship

Back; logo of the International Society of Postmasters,OFFICIAL COMMEMORATIVE ISSUE, International Society of Postmasters honoring the first steamship to travel from Europe to South America. September 28th, 1977 Proof finish Minted by the Franklin Mint

The Sky Pirate, Eduardo 'Blackbeard' Molto

It has been already well over a few hours since first meeting and discussing his works. Eduardo Mólto have never experienced such a fine steak dinner in his life only made better in the company of his lovely investor.
The design was admittedly conceptional with a working model airship and yet to be built full scale demonstration. Funding was no issue as she placed a large gold bar with San Francisco markings onto the table. Her black lace gloved hand gestured an offer to a gentleman's contract, "An advance down payment sir, do we have a deal?"
Eduardo smiled, "And I remain in full control and use the ship as I please?" She nodded with her reply, "Even in an unofficial and enterprising capacity, sir."
With a simple handshake a deal was made. It was still rather early in the evening as the lavish Brooklyn restaurant began to fill with it’s regular well-to-do clientele. The waiter removes the dinner plates as the dessert waiter places two plates of apple pie with brandy sauce topped with fresh whipped cream. His eyes couldn’t help but hesitate at the pure gold bar resting upon the engineering drawings laid out on the spacious table.

The discussion moved back to more personal matters outside business.

Lady McMillan’s journeys and travels were widespread recent being in the United Kingdom for the last few years, and prior to that California where her travel companion Argenta retired after selling her unique weapon design to the Winchester firearms company. For a reason not stated they finally parted since traveling together from Mexico. But her own travels were not without its hardships and her insights were remarkable bearing witness to the dark powers that act in the back rooms of political power.

Lady McMillan was no stranger to subterfuge, corruption, and murder as a victim of that as a young child of noble decent saw her father’s power and authority usurped before her family were killed, crimes that have long gone unpunished. Without much detail he could see the sadness in her eyes at the mention of it.

Her soul was stained by an unsatisfied justice that had crossed her own moral boundaries for simple revenge. Eduardo could not conceive that such a very cultured and delicate woman can be capable of shedding blood. He realized that they shared a common bond.

“Go on.” Lady McMillan as she stirred in a lump of sugar into her fresh cup of tea.

“I will select my moniker name as Blackbeard.” Though fancying himself to the fearsome pirate Black Beard of an age past, physically, he was neither a tall or imposing man. Rather his small frame leaned heavily on his cane since his injuries at the hands of thieves, no they were spies, a decade ago that saw his laboratory and shop raided by what may have been be Prussian spies before it was set ablaze, and his life's work gone.

The authorities did not take upon themselves to properly investigate nor did the Scientific Academy take action when a group of junior members submitted his inventions as their own. Not even his former grade school mate Pope Leo bothered to take notice of his case. He confronted him privately but his old friend was different. Leo had changed and behaved more like a man trapped in world's affairs than the idealistic and hopeful world saving young man he once remembered. It seemed all orchestrated and a legal theft of his life’s work.

“And you may refer to me as the Raven.” Her brows narrowed, her gaze seared into Eduardo’s soul as a promise to see some justice to those that had a hand in his misfortune and to unburden his heart to be the man he should be.

It is a dream coming true.

With a satisfying smile he pushes his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose, “Ms. Tricia McMillan whom I give due a debt of gratitude.”

As they celebrated with a glass of champagne the glint of gold caught the eye of a well to do business man seated at an adjacent table. He put down his newspaper, napkin and pushed himself from his table in an orderly manner. His eyes beheld the large gold bar before turning his eyes to the two seated figures, "Sir, Madam, pardon me but I would be remiss if I did not offer my services." He politely set his cigar down on his table, reaching into his vest pocket producing a business card. "My name is John Pierpont Morgan Investment banking is my specialty, my friends here in this fine establishment know me as Pierpont. And who may I have the pleasure?

"I am Eduardo Vincenté Molto, scientist and inventor," he stood up accepted the card then gestured his free hand to his new partner. "And this lovely lady is Tricia McMillan, my new business partner."

Lady McMillan lifted her hand, “Sir,”

The businessman promptly lighted upon it with a kiss. "Ah, I do not see many women who partake in the complex and unforgiving world of business Investment. I do provide investment services for many Fortunes of widows and established families so I do admire women that can manage their business affairs." His words may be polite yet his body language and inflection were slightly condescending. His eyes again shifted to the gold bar for a moment.

Eduardo tucked the business card into his vest pocket, "I, or shall I say, we may consider your banking services sir."

“The address of my business is clearly indicated on my card, I can make time for an appointment early as tomorrow if you wish to discuss details and make all the necessary paperwork.”

“I believe we have a pending appointment.” Replied McMillan as she stepped to Eduardo’s side and slipped her hand around his arm. “We are in no hurry to decide. We are relatively new to this marvelous city and we would love to relish in the experience in this land of opportunity and freedom. Is it not so Edward?”

Pierpont nodded, "Madam, Sir, all new business establishments require a proper issuance of ownership stock. And I can assure you the fees are modest once you come to know my fine record and reputation in this fair city. My bank’s tremendous success speaks for itself.”

Eduardo adjusted his spectacles and smiled, “And I am sure of your Bank’s reputation is well known. It’s name and advertisements do appear in every page of the city newspaper. We will contact you when we are ready.”

“I agree, we need some time.” Lady McMillan squeezed Edward’s arm in assurance like a couple.

Five Years later...

Atlantic ocean, 31.30 degrees North, 65.10 degrees west.
North by north east of the Bermuda Triangle.

"Th' bluudy fog, ye cannae see past twenty yards off th' stern from me station." The old Gaelic sailor downs another mouthful of scotch of his pocket flask. He let a soft belch putting off his train of thought for only but a moment. Then collecting himself as resolute. The thick Atlantic fog can hide anything from other ships, sea creatures, icebergs just as well as a man's imagination or fears.

A distant wailing could be heard over the din of the Argosy's churning engines. It was almost human. Something was amiss. He had well observed whales before having worked several seasons whaling before demand went into decline and found work as a deckhand. He recalled the wailing of these great creatures as they were slaughtered like cattle. Capturing the lead whale kept most of it's kin close by made for easy work.

His mind rationalized what his soul had considered unthinkable. Whales had souls? The ghostly tales that rattle the fears of green hands were all in jest yet sent chills down his back. A flying ghost whale!

“My gawd, th’ size of it!” His heart raced as something very large loomed, remaining obscured in a veil of fog about sixty yards portside keeping pace with the steamer for no more than an hour before silently veering off into the darkness.
His Irish-kin watch officer couldn't identify this peculiar encounter, if it was an encounter. There was a tremble in his voice, "Madness, Th' Cap'm woo 'ave busted us if woken up fer nuttn like this! Bess keep quite. "

Are you in the Monster Raffle yet?

The #piratesunday tag is the scurvy scheme of Captain @stokjockey for #silvergoldstackers pirates to proudly showcase their shiny booty and plunder for all to see. Landlubbers arrrh… welcomed to participate and be a Pirate at heart so open yer treasure chests an’ show us what booty yea got!

References

Photos are my own shot with an ancient 2018 Samsung SM-A530W or otherwise indicated.
P. Image by Clker-free-vector-images under Pixabay
W. Wiki Commons
☠️🎃 Page Dividers by thekittygirl. ❄️🌞
Cameo Raven Brooch from The Black Wardrobe.