Bluewater Quest

by Charles Dougherty

  "But was that always the case? What about the seasons, and climate change?" Shellie asked.

  "It's a result of the earth's rotation, more than anything else. Seasons and changing weather patterns make some minor differences, but they get cancelled out by the time you get across the Atlantic. You're going to end up somewhere between the Bahamas and the equator, but the most likely spot is about midway up the island chain. Around St. Lucia or Martinique is the sweet spot."

  "We were thinking that there'd have been no reason for Khashkhash to have deviated from the path of least resistance," Liz said.

  "He would have had a good idea of the latitudes of the trading ports in Asia," Rick said.

  "Yes, but they would have been in the same latitudes as the islands, for the same reasons," Liz said. "Just farther to the west, and on the other side of the Americas."

  "That's why they became trading ports, and why they still are," Dani said. "The ones that you reach by sailing to the west end up in the tropics; the ones you reach sailing east are in the temperate zones, farther north or south. It's the way the winds and currents work."

  "I never thought about that," Rick said. "What about the ports along the east coast, say Miami, versus New York?"

  "Coastal sailing's a different game," Dani said. "The general rules in the northern hemisphere are that it's easy to sail north along an east-facing shore, or south along a west-facing shore. It's the opposite in the southern hemisphere."

  "I actually should have tumbled to that," Rick said. "It's well known; I remember learning that about trade routes between Europe and America in the colonial era in my undergrad history courses."

  "I'm sure there are exceptions, if you take land-based routes into account, but we're focused on sailing, with Khashkhash," Dani said. "And the descriptions of the mullah's base location referred to reaching other islands within a day's sail to the north or the south."

  Liz said, "They mentioned that there was no landfall to the west unless they first sailed several days to the north or south, and then they were back to islands that were a day apart, strung out to the west."

  "Okay," Rick said. "How does that match up with the sketch map?"

  "Pretty well," Dani said. "I think whoever drew the map put those two mountains there for a reason. If you draw a line through the peaks and extend it to the north, it intersects the shoreline close to where a river flows into the harbor."

  "That would have been important," Liz said. "The river, I mean. They would have been looking for a place with fresh water."

  "Right. I agree," Rick said. "And did you find some place that matches?"

  "We found two solid matches, without even looking hard," Dani said. "One is in Soufrière, St. Lucia. The two big mountains are on a line with where the Soufrière River flows into the harbor."

  "The other one's only a day to the north of that, on Martinique," Liz said. "It's a little harbor called Grand Anse d'Arlet. The river's more of a stream, judging from our chart. It may even be silted in by now, but both places fit."

  "How long would it take to get there?" Rick asked.

  "Soufrière is around 120 miles — less than 24 hours, depending on the wind. But Bequia's a good place to spend the night about halfway to Soufrière. It's a favorite place of ours, anyway. Well worth the stop, unless you want to push it. Either way's okay with us."

  "I vote for a stop," Shellie said.

  "Fine with me," Rick said. "And how far to Grand Anse d'Arlet?"

  "Another 40 miles from Soufrière," Liz said. "There's a third possibility along the way to Grand Anse d'Arlet. It's not quite as good a match, but it may be worth a look."

  "That's Rodney Bay, St. Lucia," Dani said. "It's an interesting spot. The harbor's much bigger. The British Navy used it a lot in the 18th and 19th centuries, when they were fighting with the French."

  "Is it named after the admiral?" Rick asked.

  "Yes. Fort Rodney's there. The admiral used to sit on top of the hill there with a telescope and watch for French ships to attack. On a clear day, he could see the approach to Fort-de-France."

  "Let's do that one, too," Rick said. "As close together as they are, it'll be easy to do some serious comparisons. When should we leave?"

  "We can leave later this morning and make Bequia by late afternoon," Liz said.

  "But what about the stuff you need to buy? The GPS and what have you?"

  "We'll have to clear customs and immigration at the yacht club before we leave. We'll go right by the marine supply store on the way. We can do it all and get under way in an hour or so, if you want."

  "Sounds good, but there's not a rush. Let's enjoy the rest of our breakfast," Shellie said.

  Liz smiled and refilled their coffee mugs. "There are more eggs. Help yourself, Rick."

  "They're up and about on Vengeance," Leila said.

  Yeah?" Ed asked. "What are they doing?"

  "The two women who run the boat just headed out; they're in the dinghy, going to the dock at the marine supply store."

  "Probably replacing the stuff I took," Ashley said. "Wonder when they're leaving? Everett's been here a couple of days, already."

  Ed shrugged. "You put the tracker on the boat, right?"

  "No, I didn't get a chance before that woman showed up."

  "Shit," Ed said. "We'll have to hope we can con the customs and immigration people into telling us what their next port is, then."

  "Think they're leaving today?"

  "I don't' know. They're up and out bright and early," Ed said. "We should play it safe. Why don't you head over to the yacht club and get a cup of coffee? If they go to clear out, maybe you can overhear what they tell the agent."

  "On my way," Ashley said, taking a final swig of her coffee. She climbed down into their dinghy and motored across the lagoon. As she was tying up to the club's dock, she saw the two women return to their own dinghy. She kept an eye on them as she walked up the ramp to the yacht club entrance. They were headed straight toward the club's dock.

  "Good morning," Ashley said, as she walked up to the club's bar.

  "Mornin', mornin'," the woman behind the bar said. "Coffee?"

  "Please," Ashley said.

  Cutting her eyes to the left, she saw the two women from Vengeance enter the club. They went into the customs and immigration office just as the woman set the coffee on the bar in front of her. She put a $5 E.C. note on the bar and said, "Keep the change."

  "Thank you. Have a great day."

  "Thanks," Ashley said, taking her coffee and moving to stand near the open door to the customs and immigration office. She took a sip of the coffee as she pretended to read the bulletin board on the wall. The board was located between the door to the club office and the door to customs and immigration.

  She smiled to herself as she heard one of the women say, "Good morning. We need to clear out for Bequia."

  "When are you leaving?" a man's voice asked.

  "In the next hour or so," the woman answered.

  "You have a beautiful day for your sail," the man said. "Nice breeze, wit' jus' a little south in it. Should be perfect."

  Ashley took another sip of coffee and walked toward the dinghy dock. She had heard enough. She knew she'd been lucky; she still needed to plant the tracker on Vengeance. Maybe she could take care of that in Bequia. The people on Vengeance had missed their dinner out last night; perhaps they'd make up for that tonight.

  Then she realized she didn't know how far away Bequia was. She assumed that it wasn't far, but they would need to check the cruising guide and the nautical charts that they'd found in the chart table aboard Aquila.

  She still wondered why the woman with the curly blonde hair had come back to Vengeance so soon last night. She shrugged off her curiosity; it couldn't have anything to do with her or her team. It was just bad luck. Fortune had a way of squaring things, though. She untied her dinghy and started the outboard, steering straight toward Aquila.

  9

  "This is so excit
ing!" Shellie said, as she watched Dani steering Vengeance through the channel leaving St. George’s. "A new experience for me."

  "You haven't done any sailing?" Dani asked.

  "No, I haven't. Rick's done a little bit, but never out in the ocean. Nothing like this."

  Dani smiled. "I hope it's fun for you. We've got near-perfect conditions for first-time sailors."

  "What makes that so?" Shellie asked, as she watched Liz bustling about the deck, stowing the dock lines and fenders.

  "The wind is blowing out of the east-southeast, so we'll be on what's called a beam reach most of the time. That means the wind's blowing at a right angle to our course. It may clock a bit and become more southeasterly, but that's okay. That will put us on a broad reach, which is still an easy point of sail."

  "I would have thought the best sailing would be if the wind blew from behind us," Shellie said.

  "That's a common misconception, that the wind pushes the boat along. The physics of sailing are more like the physics of flying. The shape of the sails, if you look down from the top, is similar to the shape of an airplane's wing seen from the end.

  "On a beam reach, most of the wind's energy is providing lift, which is transformed into forward motion. The leading edge of the sail, that's called the luff, is splitting the wind. If the wind angle changes to the point where the luff doesn't split the wind cleanly, then some of the wind's force goes into trying to tip the boat over." Dani glanced over at Shellie. "I've probably told you way more than you wanted to know. Sorry."

  "No, that's fascinating. I had no idea. I thought we were going to get blown along like a leaf in the wind, or something."

  "Sailing requires balancing a lot of forces to make the boat go in the direction you want. If they get out of balance, the boat doesn't behave well; the ride gets uncomfortable, or she slows down, or something breaks."

  "How long have you been doing this?"

  "Sailing? Or running this charter business?"

  "Sailing," Shellie said.

  "As long as I can remember. My father's a sailor; he started taking me along when I was an infant, I guess."

  "Did you ever get scared? When you were a child?"

  "No. I always just thought the sea was something you had to accept and deal with, I guess. Does it frighten you?"

  "A little, yes. It's overwhelming."

  "What's overwhelming?" Liz asked, returning to the cockpit.

  "The ocean," Shellie said. "Dani and I were just talking about sailing. She was explaining about being on a beam reach, going to Bequia."

  "Speaking of sailing," Dani said.

  "Is it time?" Liz asked.

  "We might as well get the main and mizzen up, now that we're out of the lagoon."

  "There doesn't seem to be much wind," Shellie said.

  "No, we're protected by the land right now."

  "Man, oh man," Rick said, climbing out of the companionway. "Look at all those boats." He gestured toward the anchorage off their port quarter, where 50 or more boats were at anchor in the calm, clear water off Pandey Beach.

  "That's one of the favorite anchorages for cruising boats," Liz said. "It's calm under most conditions, and it's convenient to town and the yacht club."

  "I can see the convenience part, but it doesn't look that protected," he said. "What if a storm comes out of the west? It's wide open."

  "Yes," Dani said. "That's true of most of the lee-side anchorages in the islands. It's relatively rare to find a harbor like St. George’s that offers all-around protection."

  "This must be a little spooky at night," Shellie said. "Imagine sitting out here in the dark with nothing but the open sea behind you."

  "It's what you're used to, I guess," Dani said. "I like the idea that there's nothing between me and Central America. It’s exhilarating, somehow."

  "I don't know if I could get used to that," Shellie said. "Is where we're going like this? Bequia? Is it open like this, to the west?"

  "Admiralty Bay is Bequia's main harbor. It's more protected than this, but it's not as closed-in as St. George’s. If the weather comes out of the west, it can get rough, but that doesn't happen often, not this time of year."

  "In the summer, when you get thunderstorms, you can get some gusty winds out of the west," Liz said, "and then you need to be careful not to anchor too close to shore. But we're past that now."

  "Let's get the main and the mizzen up, Liz," Dani said. As Liz went up to the mainmast and began to uncover the mainsail, Dani turned to Shellie. "Then I'll take up a course to the northwest until we're out of the wind shadow of the island. Once we're out far enough to have a steady breeze, we can roll out the headsails and shut down the diesel. Then you'll see what sailing's like."

  "It'll take us right back to the time of the Moors' discovery," Rick said.

  "Yes," Dani said. "Except they wouldn't have had the diesel to get them out of there. That's why the harbors that were open to the west attracted sailing vessels in the old days. Imagine trying to get a ship out of St. George’s with only the little puffs of air that we had in there."

  "That's what galley slaves were for," Rick said.

  "Did the Moors' ships have oars?" Dani asked.

  "I don't know," Rick said. "I should find out. That could influence where they set up shop, couldn't it?"

  "I would think so," Dani said.

  "Ready when you are, skipper," Liz called.

  Dani turned the bow into the wind and she and Liz hoisted the mainsail and the mizzen.

  "This is magic," Shellie said, a few hours later. She sat behind the helm, steering Vengeance as they rolled along over the swell. "I thought it would be rougher out here in the open water. These waves look huge, but they're gentle."

  "These are swells," Dani said. "They just lift the boat and then lower it. If the wind were blowing harder, it might raise a chop on top of the swells that could make things a little rougher. And when the swells run into an island, they get twisted around and confused. That can be rough, too. But out in open water, it's usually like this."

  "Nice," Shellie said. "It's not scary at all. And I thought we'd be out of sight of land, but we've had those little islands on the eastern horizon almost the whole way. How far are we from Bequia, now?"

  "That's Bequia," Dani pointed at the dark smudge off their bow.

  "It's much bigger than I expected," Shellie said. "From the chart Liz showed me, I thought it was small."

  "It is small," Dani said. "You're seeing St. Vincent behind it. St. Vincent's a much bigger island. From here, you can't distinguish them. As we get closer, though, you'll begin to make out houses on Bequia, and St. Vincent will still be a dark mass in the distance. They're around 10 miles apart."

  "Will we be there in time for us to take you and Liz out to dinner?" Rick asked, stepping into the cockpit. He had been below, reviewing an email he had received a couple of hours ago. "From what the cruising guide in our cabin says, there's a fine French restaurant there. It could be like a consolation prize for missing out last night."

  "We should be," Dani said. "We're making great time. I'd say we'll have the anchor down in time to clear in before the customs office closes."

  "We need to do more of this, Rick," Shellie said.

  "More sailing?" he asked.

  "Yes. I'm hooked."

  "How long have you been steering?" he asked.

  "I don't know. I could do this forever. The boat feels like it's alive. It's like nothing I've ever experienced. Is it always like this, Dani?"

  Dani smiled. "No, but it's always magical. I told you that conditions were perfect for our trip today. Everyone should have a day like today for their first sail."

  "Try it, Rick?" Shellie asked.

  "No, you go ahead. You're having too much fun for me to take over."

  "What was in the email?" Shellie asked. "Anything exciting?"

  "No. Nothing related to the project; it was from the woman who's filling in for me this semester. Boring."

>   "Do you suppose the Moors had days like this? The sailing, I mean?" Shellie asked. "How different would their ships have been, Rick?"

  "I don't know. Any ideas, Dani?"

  "Not really. I thought there might be some references in the translated texts, but I didn't see any when I skimmed through yesterday. I confess that I was disappointed; I'm as curious as Shellie."

  "I'm afraid I didn't spend much time on that part of the puzzle," Rick said. "I found a lot of references to their trading voyages around the Mediterranean. Once I was satisfied that they were good enough seamen for a transatlantic voyage to be possible, I moved on."

  "What do you suppose happened to them?" Liz asked, joining them in the cockpit. "Is there any record?"

  "You mean to the men who stayed in the islands with the mullah?" Rick asked.

  "Yes. You said Khashkhash sailed back, laden with treasure, but I was wondering about the fate of the — what was it, a hundred men and three ships?"

  "That's right. The short answer is we don't know for sure. The longer answer is that many years later, a man claiming to be one of the mullah's party made his way back to Palos. He said that their base had been besieged, presumably by the Caribs, although he just referred to them as the people of the islands. One of the three ships escaped and sailed to the north and west until they reached a large land mass. They sailed along the coast to the north until a storm blew them off shore, and they drifted at sea until some fishermen found them and brought them back to Europe, probably to the British Isles. There were only a few survivors, and they set out to return to Spain, first working as seamen on a trading vessel to get to the European continent. Two of them made it to what's now France, where one died. The survivor proceeded on foot to Palos."

  "What a story," Dani said. "Let me guess; he wasn't given a hero's welcome."

  "No, he wasn't. He was apparently not an educated man; most likely, he was a common seaman. He wasn't aware of the significance of his return; he was just trying to survive. Khashkhash and his sponsors were long gone by then, but eventually the lone survivor came to the attention of someone in authority. Whoever that was recorded his story and sent it to Cordoba. It ended up in the Caliphate's library."