The Wreck of the Ten Sail

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The Wreck of the Ten Sail Page 13

by Steven Becker


  The water gradually lightened in color, and from my perch the sand became visible. The schooner had executed her jibe and corrected course. They were close enough to fire and I could see the men on deck now frantically preparing the port guns, but we had minutes before they would be ready. We were into the cut now and Mason made a slow turn northward. The sheets were adjusted for a broad reach and the ship picked up speed.

  There was no way to signal my intentions. I had only to rely on the men in the pinnace to see our move and react accordingly. Their anchor was already up and they had the main and a jib set. Together we made our way north toward the sound and I could only hope Phillip knew where the exit was. I looked out to sea and saw the frigate standing off the cut, waiting for us to turn and try to make a run for it.

  Back on deck, I went to the helm and asked Mason to drop speed and let the smaller boat catch us. The pinnace had a much shallower draft and we needed Phillip to navigate. As they pulled alongside, I went to the rail to explain my plan.

  We had to shorten sail to stay behind the slower boat, but it didn’t matter. I looked back and the frigate was still standing off the cut, thinking it our only chance to escape. The sound was small enough that they could see every move we made, but I hoped to put enough space between us for us to evade them when we finally made our exit.

  The water grew shallower, the reef closer, and I saw no sign of a passage through the crashing waves. The pinnace dropped back and I ordered the men to lower the mainsails. The call from the bow was three fathoms. I could not allow the boat to get closer to the reef without some indication it was safe.

  “It’s here,” Phillip yelled from the pinnace.

  “Head through and signal back the depth,” I yelled back.

  “Then what?” Phillip replied.

  “Then turn to the north. If we don’t catch you, you’ll know our fate.”

  As ordered, they pulled ahead of us and were soon through the reef, into deeper water and about to make the turn. The frigate was sure to have noticed the pinnace escape and would have to commit to either following them and the treasure or staying with us. It was time for my plan.

  “Turn ten degrees to port and set the elevation on the guns as low as it’ll go.” I waited until they called back that they were ready. “Prepare to fire,” I yelled. I got some strange looks from the crewmen, but they followed the order.

  “Think it’ll work?” Mason asked, and I saw the worried look on his face.

  “If this bit of reef is like what I’ve seen, anything standing off the sea bottom will succumb to the shot.”

  I heard Rhames call ready. The ship remained frozen in time as I waited for a wave to pass beneath the hull and give the guns the downward angle they needed. The bow was just about to hit the white water, and the men were staring at me. Finally the hull moved up on the crest of a wave, and I had the angle I needed.

  “Fire!” Several seconds passed and the wave continued through us. We were past the crest and on the back side of the wave when the guns erupted, shooting water high into the air. There was no telling what damage we had done to the coral until we approached.

  We were in the reef playing the gambit under full sail. I climbed back into the rigging for a better view and assigned two men to work the lead. It would only take one of the coral pillars to tear the bottom from the boat.

  The ship moved slowly through the reef but the water was clouded with silt from the shot and I was unable to see the bottom. I climbed down, imagining the damage we had caused and hoping it would be enough. There was no way to know. I was so tense that, when a larger wave rocked the ship, I almost lost my balance.

  Before I knew it, a cheer went up from the deck, and I knew from the direction of the swell that we had made it through. The land was on my left over the port rail and Mason turned north to follow the pinnace.

  I looked back at the frigate, but they were now too far behind to catch us. “Ease off the sails,” I ordered.

  “What do you mean?” Rhames and Mason both looked at me like I was crazy.

  “If it’s the pinnace he wants, let him see the tip of our masts,” I said. “We’ll move around the point, wait for night and, at dark, anchor in the mouth of the bay.”

  Their blank stares told me I needed to explain more.

  “Look, we can’t be stealing his boat. I have a plan to take our treasure, retrieve the silver, and get away clean. Then we’ll make the first British port and march Pott in to make a statement. It’ll cost a bit of silver, as was our agreement with the governor, but there’s a ton down there. We’ll have to toss some of our ballast just to carry it.”

  “You trust that worm?” Rhames asked.

  “I trust him to save his own skin.” I was sure that without his protector the man would do whatever I asked.

  ***

  The sun had just slipped below the horizon when we anchored in the mouth of the bay. I climbed the rigging with the spyglass and saw the frigate rounding the point and heading our way. We had an hour at best to execute my plan.

  Lanterns were lit on the pinnace but my orders were that there would be no light on the Panther. I wanted the captain of the frigate to think we had run. But just in case he sensed our ploy, I set two crews on the guns and placed watches in the rigging. We drifted in the mouth of the bay with the pinnace tied to our side waiting for Swift, Red, Rhames, and Phillip to offload our treasure.

  While they worked, I went below and wrote a note to the governor. I explained in clear language that we held Pott and that his protector was dead. At our next port of call, Pott would attest to our innocence. I signed the letter, ran above deck, and jumped the rail. Then, with the butt of my dagger, I nailed the letter to the wheel of the pinnace.

  “Hurry, men,” I called, now that darkness had enveloped us. The schooner was a half mile away and it was time to make our move. I called to Mason to untie the ships and we slipped away, leaving the pinnace to drift and making it that much harder to recover. So long as we escaped unobserved, I had no doubt that the captain of the frigate would be unable to resist the lure of the pinnace.

  “All quiet now,” I called and the ship became silent as we glided out to sea. We had the wind at our back and we were quickly picking up speed. From the angle she was heading, I figured the frigate would have to tack at least twice to reach the pinnace, giving us ample time to disappear below the horizon.

  I stared off the stern until the lanterns from the schooner merged with the lights of the pinnace, then I watched them slip below the horizon. Feeling relieved for the moment, I steeled myself for the night ahead. I meant to do what had ruined many ships before.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  My eyesight was better than most of the crew and I rested against the spar of the topsail, scanning the dark water. We had tacked out to the northeast, away from the island, in order to avoid the frigate. Once I was sure we were out of sight, we changed our course to the southwest in order to head back to the wreck. It was not lost on me that the ten ships whose bones lay under this same reef had run aground at night.

  I had been staring into the blackness for what felt like hours, searching for the coast. The moon would be up in an hour, but for now, I just stared blankly toward where I expected the reef to be, hoping for a glimpse of white water before it took us. We were still running dark and I knew every man on deck was listening for the sound of waves crashing on rocks.

  My trance was broken by Shayla. The rigging swayed unnaturally, and I looked down to see her climbing up the rope ladder to where I stood on the spar of the mainsail. She was nimble, and although I was neglecting my duty, I couldn’t help but watch her.

  “Care for some company?” she asked as she reached me.

  “I could use another set of eyes, for sure,” I said.

  “Not what I was wanting to hear, but I’ll stay just the same,” she said.

  “It’s not what I meant,” I said, fumbling my words.

  Shayla climbed beside me and I
felt her hand around my back.

  “You’ve no regrets about leaving that red-headed trollop behind?” she asked.

  I knew sooner or later we would have this conversation. I almost jumped to Rory’s defense, but when I remembered our last meeting, I caught myself. I had seen nothing from her to tell me otherwise, and I had held out hope for her long enough.

  “No regrets,” I said and turned from her to search again for the shore.

  It was a lie, of course. I did have regrets and I was still confused. Rory and I had been together for several months, and although nothing had happened between us, I had thought of her as my woman. But now, in the darkness, I realized I’d been wrong all along. She had always been looking for the first opportunity to leave us.

  Shayla hugged me tighter and I reveled in the closeness.

  “Look, the moon is rising,” she said, pointing to sea.

  I glanced back and we watched the near-full moon rise above the water, leaving a phosphorescent trail in our wake. I thrilled to the beauty of the moment.

  “Do you hear that?” she asked.

  I turned my attention back to my search for land. I listened and was about to ask what, when I heard it too: the sound of waves. Phillip had warned me of two points to watch for where the reef came right to the shore before reaching out to sea. Sailing too close to either of those points would ground us.

  “Ten degrees to port!” I called down, breaking the silence on deck. The boat came to life with the sighting.

  “Aye, I see it now,” Mason called back to me.

  “Have Phillip guide you. I’ll be right down,” I shouted.

  I moved to descend the rigging, but as I stepped in front of Shayla, She grabbed me with both hands around the waist, leaned in, and kissed me.

  ***

  Once I was sure we had cleared the point, I allowed a small lantern by the binnacle to see the compass, but otherwise, we remained dark and quiet. Conscious of the reef to our right, Mason gave it a wide berth. Just the sound of it was unnerving, and I knew we would soon have to navigate within feet of the deadly shoal. The moon was a quarter way through its journey when we turned to starboard and reefed the sails. Speed would be our enemy now. To that effect, I had the men rig one of the foresails as a sea anchor to slow our approach.

  I was growing impatient with our progress, but it was the only way to ensure the safety of the ship and crew. If this was a fool’s errand, then my short career as a captain would be at an end.

  The lead came back with ten fathoms and Mason called for the sails to be furled. The Panther slowed, but it was now caught in the swell. The force of the waves slung us toward the reef, increasing in size as we moved into ever-shallower water.

  I climbed back into the rigging to orient myself. We had only minutes to find the wreck and anchor or we would have to waste valuable time turning around and trying again. I could tell that many of the men were already nervous.

  A large wave crashed nearby. I was just about to call to Mason to change course when I saw something strange in the water. There was a dull glow coming from the depths. “Drop anchor,” I yelled.

  The boat was alive now, the silence broken by the anchor hitting the water. We swung one hundred and eighty degrees as it grabbed, and I could feel the vibration in the rigging when the hook set. The moon was high in the sky now, the perfect time to get to the business at hand. The tide would be slack and I was hoping the moonlight would penetrate the seas. As Mason and I moved to the skiff, I ordered a half dozen men into the water to search for the weighted line we had discarded earlier.

  I felt a twinge of fear creep up my spine when they placed the head gear on me. It was dark and cold inside the leather helmet, and the facemask was fogged up and of no use. I was virtually blind when they handed me the line, but I felt slightly better when I felt the first surge of fresh air from the pump.

  I had taught myself to breathe deeply on my previous dives, but as I drifted down the line in the black water, I started to panic and gasped for air. In my confusion I lost count of the knots and, before I knew it, I crashed to the deck, my head aching from the pressure in my ears.

  I sat on the Ludlow’s deck, trying to pull myself together. A tug on the rope brought me back to reality and I remembered I was supposed to signal when I hit bottom.

  I gave the signal and shifted the glass in front of my face. The darkness was overwhelming, the glow I had seen from the surface no longer visible. I would have to feel my way to the treasure. Fortunately I had left the line by the ballast pile. I felt around in a circle until I found one of the weights. My eyes had adjusted enough to barely see the deck now, but my sight was limited to three feet at the most.

  From the blackness, I felt a surge in the water, and then another. Instinctively, I covered myself, preparing for the attack I thought was coming, but then realized it was our men. Mason had four men waiting for my signal and had sent each with a section of cargo net attached to a line that led to the ship.

  I took the bundle from the first diver and felt him kick off the deck and ascend. I piled a half dozen of the coral-encrusted castings into the net and pulled hard on the line, then repeated the procedure several more times until the pile was gone. Finally, I grabbed the bottom of the last net and rode it to the surface, relieved when I could see the moon glimmering through the water.

  When I boarded the Panther, Mason and Rhames clapped me on the back, and I watched the crew work frantically to secure the treasure. Although we weren’t safe yet, looking at the faces of the rescued slaves as they handled the silver they had a share in brought a smile to my face.

  I knew by now the captain of the frigate would have secured the pinnace and would likely be coming back by this route, disappointed and fearful of Bodden’s wrath, but either way, we needed to weigh anchor and get underway.

  The tide had turned, making it easier to escape our mooring, and Mason called for the topsails the minute the anchor was clear of the water. The ship swung to the northeast, caught the wind and soon we were making good time.

  The treasure was now secure and the first rays of dawn highlighted the whitecaps as we slid through the waves at a favorable angle. I climbed to my spot in the rigging and glanced back at the island, now almost invisible on the horizon. For a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of the frigate in the distance, but we were far to sea and the sun would be in their eyes. I knew we were free.

  The rigging was a comfortable place to dream and think, a place where no one bothered me. I stared out to sea, wondering what was next for us, when I felt Shayla next to me. I put my arm around her and leaned in to kiss her.

  The Adventure Continues:

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