Author's Note

Sometimes inspiration comes from unexpected places. This was the case with The Strange Story of Maria Hallett.

While working on a collection of short stories for each month of the year, I went to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, looking for inspiration for an October story. Being an avid sailor and amateur boat builder, and having sailed over the waters of the Cape, I stopped at the Whydah Pirate Museum in West Yarmouth. The museum does an excellent job of telling the story of the history and wreck of the Whydah, a pirate ship salvaged by Barry Clifford and his team. Connected to the loss of the Whydah in the spring of 1717 is a love story about Maria Hallett, a teenage lass living on Cape Cod, and the captain of the Whydah, “Black Sam” Bellamy.

The facts surrounding their relationship are hazy. Sam Bellamy is a documented historical figure and was a very successful pirate until the Whydah wrecked on the shoals of the outer Cape. However, the history of Maria Hallett is unclear, and Maria Hallett may not have been her actual name. Legend implies that she gave birth out of wedlock to Sam’s child, who may have died in infancy. As a result, she could have been shunned by her community as she waited for Sam’s promised return.

One of the characters that elbowed her way into the story was Cape Cod herself. Years ago, as a licensed pilot, I departed Lawrence Municipal Airport on the North Shore of Massachusetts. After flying across Cape Cod Bay and picking up the Provincetown Pilgrim Monument at the bitter end of the Cape under sunny skies, I flew at a low altitude along the outer Cape. An east wind blew over fifteen knots, and the surf rolled over the sandbars where the Whydah had been forced aground over two hundred years before. The chaos caused by the breaking waves was awe-inspiring, even though we observed their action above five hundred feet. I circled a commercial fishing boat beyond the breakers. She rolled significantly in a sea that was building, causing her crew to brace themselves against the ship’s motion as they tended their gear. Unlike the Whydah, they had a trusty diesel and a marine radio, allowing them to work close to the breakers that caused the demise of the pirate ship. Years later, I thought about the vessel and decided that it may have been the Vast Explorer, Barry Clifford’s research and Salvage vessel. She was in the vicinity of Marconi Beach near where the wreck was found. We were lucky, too, because we could check the weather at Provincetown Airport by radio. The report was not encouraging: a storm front was roaring in from the Atlantic. We executed the pilot’s best friend, a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, as we climbed to three thousand feet.

With the wind to our backs, we scampered back to Lawrence Airport, where we landed, chased by black storm clouds. Quickly, we tied the aircraft down, minutes before being engulfed in driving rain and winds gusting over forty miles an hour. This weather event was not forecast on the marine weather radio channel, nor were we briefed about such weather by Flight Service before our departure. The event was a good example of how unpredictable Cape Cod weather can be. She has a mind of her own, and I suspect there are times she has homicidal intentions.

Another character who put in an unexpected appearance was John King. When the ship on which he was a passenger was captured by Sam Bellamy, John, a ten-year-old boy, was offered the choice of remaining with his mother or joining the pirates, and he chose to join the pirates. His reasons are lost to history, but we know he existed because his remains were excavated by Barry Clifford’s team when divers found part of a child’s skeleton crushed between a cannon and part of the ship’s hull on the seafloor.

What a tale John could tell! As a retired child psychologist, I collected as many facts about John King and did my best to create a coherent profile of the lad.

Samhain, the Celtic origin of Halloween, has been a longtime interest of mine. The ancient Celts believed that at certain times of the year, usually at the onset of winter, the veil between the living and the dead was thin enough that a living person could pass through. The prospect of including Samhain and eighteenth-century beliefs about the supernatural, and adding a few villains, the Whydah, Sam, and Maria, was too tempting to resist. It created the perfect recipe for a love story and adventure. I stirred these characters, beliefs, and events in a batter.

The character’s behaviors are speculative, but being a sailor, I tried to make the description of the Whydah’s demise as accurate as possible, based on contemporary reports, my experience as a sailor, and archeological evidence uncovered by Barry Clifford’s salvage team.

I hope this story captures your interest and that you consider visiting the Pirate Museum. But there are more places hidden around the Cape that are fun to visit if you know where to look. For example, Marconi Beach not only has remnants of the old Marconi radio tower but is surrounded by high dunes reaching the surf below. If you stand on them and look out into the Atlantic, you can feel some of the emotions Maria may have felt as she waited for Sam’s return and witnessed the Whydah breaking up, or experience what Joe felt when he wandered the dunes looking for Sam’s treasure. If you are lucky enough to go during the summer, you might catch a glimpse of one of Barry Clifford’s research vessels excavating for more artifacts just offshore.

But more waits behind the dunes in the White Cedar Swamp, which, legend has it, used to be called Maria Hallett Swamp. The National Park Service has constructed an easy-to-follow trail. However, be mindful of the forecast and the time of day. When the weather is overcast, the swamp can feel foreboding, and if the trail markers are not visible, it would be easy to become disoriented and lost, like the characters in the story. I bet it would be even creepier to visit around Halloween—oops, I mean Samhain—when the veil between the living and the dead is the thinnest.

On second thought, I’ll pass. I’m not sure I want to shake hands with a long-dead pirate. –R.Z.