Pirates of the Pentland Firth!

I am reading an excellent book on the history of pirates; The Pirate Wars by Peter Earle. When in amongst all the corsairs of Barbary and pirates of Galway or the West Country up pops an Orcadian which perked my local, even parochial, interest in the man. ?

In the early 18th century, at the height of the Golden Age of Piracy, few tales resonate with such ferocity as that of John Gow, a young seaman from Orkney, Scotland, who rose to notoriety through mutiny and bloodshed. His was not the typical tale of tropical waters and Caribbean raids. Instead, it unfolded in the far north and in the mysterious, contested waters of the Mediterranean Sea, where he turned on his own, seized his ship, rechristened it The Revenge, and set forth upon a course that would bring him both terror and ruin. Gow’s short-lived yet fearsome career as a pirate captain serves as a testament to the ambition and desperation that often propelled men into this bloody profession.?

Young Gow was born in 1698 in the Orkney Islands, a harsh and wind-blasted archipelago north of Scotland, where rugged cliffs meet the tempestuous sea. Life in such remote climes would have imparted a robust, hardy character to any young lad, but it was the sea itself that called to Gow, as it called to so many Orcadians. While the details of his early life are obscure, it is known that he took to the sea as a young man, likely as a sailor on merchant vessels, traveling far from home. And indeed, it was on one such voyage, aboard the merchant vessel George Galley, that his life took a fateful turn from mariner to mutineer.?

The George Galley was a modest merchantman, plying the Mediterranean Sea in 1724. Gow was aboard with his fellow sailors, and there, amidst the tension of cramped quarters, heavy labor, and little reward, resentment began to simmer. Whether driven by mistreatment, greed, or a sense of destiny, Gow managed to kindle this discontent into outright mutiny. With swift ruthlessness, he and his accomplices dispatched the officers, killing the captain and ship's officers in cold blood and securing control over the vessel. They knew, of course, that such an act cast them outside the bounds of lawful society, and Gow - either in dark irony or with genuine passion - immediately rechristened the ship The Revenge. It was a common enough name in piracy, a banner of defiance raised by men who had chosen lawlessness over the constrained, brutal hierarchies of maritime life.?

With his ship under his command and his course now irrevocably set, Gow embraced his new identity as a pirate. He sought neither allegiance nor restraint, leading his crew through the waters of the Mediterranean, plundering merchant ships, and terrorizing any who were unfortunate enough to cross his path. Gow’s target selection was clever and cautious; rather than face powerful warships or heavily armed vessels, he preferred small, vulnerable targets - merchant ships of less combative nations, laden with supplies or coin. This tactic suited his ambition, allowing him to gain quick spoils without drawing the immediate ire of great naval powers. Soon, though, a sense of urgency must have crept in; the perils of life at sea, coupled with the ceaseless fear of capture, prompted Gow to return home to Orkney, where he hoped familiarity with the remote islands might offer a semblance of security.?

By this time their notoriety was such that The British Admiralty sent diplomatic messages with a description of the renamed Revenge to many of the Northern European nations, France, The Hague, Denmark, Sweden as well as orders to its own ships?“so they may seize her if she come to their ports and direct their ships to do the same at sea.”?

In 1725, The Revenge appeared off the coast of Orkney, creating only minor stirrings of suspicion among the locals at first. Gow’s intention was simple: to raid Orkney’s isolated estates, plundering riches from local merchants and wealthy landowners, and to retire in the quiet safety of his homeland. Yet even in the familiar waters of Orkney, Gow could not escape the cruelty and chaos he had wrought upon the Mediterranean. He began his assault upon the region with the same brutal efficiency he had used on the George Galley, raiding secluded properties under cover of darkness and terrorizing the locals.?

But he underestimated the loyalty and vigilance of the Orkney people, who quickly became aware of the pirate in their midst. Word of his presence spread swiftly, and the very geography he thought would shield him became his prison, as he found himself a known and marked man, all paths of retreat closed to him. Finally, Gow met his match in James Fea, a local landowner of Clestrain with both the wits and courage to confront him. Fea feigned a willingness to trade, inviting Gow ashore with the pretense of conducting a friendly negotiation. As Gow and his men stepped onto solid ground, Fea’s guards set upon them, and within moments the once-mighty pirate was little more than a helpless prisoner in the hands of his countrymen.?

Soon after, Gow and his surviving crew were transported to London to stand trial for piracy, a trial that attracted widespread attention. There was a particular fascination in the English capital for a pirate hailing from the remote Orkney Isles, so far removed from the sunny Caribbean or warm Mediterranean waters typically associated with piratical tales. The trial was brief, and Gow was found guilty of piracy, murder and mutiny. His sentence was inevitable and he was condemned to die at Execution Dock in Wapping, where pirates met their end as the Thames tide lapped over their lifeless bodies - a symbol of the maritime justice meted out to those who defied the laws of the sea.?

Gow’s final moments were marked by a grim twist of fate that would become legend. As he awaited his sentence, standing on the gallows, the rope failed, and he found himself miraculously spared - if only for a brief, agonizing instant. But there was no reprieve. A second attempt saw him hanged in full view of the crowd, his life snuffed out as a warning to others who might dare follow his path.?

John Gow's story spread, and it was immortalised by none other than Daniel Defoe, who wrote An Account of the Conduct and Proceedings of the Late John Gow, alias Smith, immortalising the pirate in words that would come to shape his legend. Gow’s tale continues to echo across centuries - a dark, fateful descent from sailor to captain of The Revenge, and finally to the captured and condemned pirate at Execution Dock.?

His legend endures, a somber reminder of the allure and perils of piracy. Gow’s choice to return to Orkney, to the very home he once knew, speaks to the eternal tension within a man who both longed for the freedom of lawlessness and yet sought the familiarity of home - a fatal desire that ultimately betrayed him. His story remains a cautionary tale of ambition, bloodlust, and the unyielding force of justice, served both by his own countrymen and by the sea itself, whose depths hold no sanctuary for those who dare defy its sovereign will.?

His name also lives on in the?Orkney made J. Gow Rum which I am assured is excellent, and has captured many prizes – all of them legally ?? ?

?