Giving up on sleep, I rubbed my eyes and rose, careful not to wake Shayla. I went to the table and stared at it again, this time certain it had the answer. I shook my head at the X on the island of Haiti, that I now knew marked the Citadel and a dead end. I looked past the obvious navigational notes that didn’t apply to the treasure and focused on the two items that didn’t relate to anything. The first was the straight line seemingly placed randomly to the west of Haiti. I set the ruler on the compass rose and adjusted it until it paralleled the line. It read thirteen degrees, but I had no idea how this related to anything. The second item was the gibberish written on the bottom. Yr geéfbe fr gebhir ra qrffbhf qr yn fhesnpr ceèf qr yn cbvagr yn cyhf frcgragevbanyr fhe yr pôgé bhrfg.
I stared at the letters, trying to figure out what language they were written in, but the words made no sense in any language I was familiar with. Setting the strange words aside, I looked at Great Inagua. With a ruler I laid out our present course and discovered it looked like it would intersect the line. On a whim I placed the ruler over the old line and extended it to the north. It ran straight through the island. I leaned back trying to figure out the significance of what I had just discovered, but aside from telling me we were moving in the right direction, it told me nothing. It could be thirteen degrees from anywhere. I followed the line to its southern extremity and found it originated at Cartagena, near the northern tip of South America.
The captain’s logbook would tell me if they had ever visited the pirate stronghold. I opened the book, leaned back in the chair and started to skim through the pages. I didn’t have to look far. There were several pages and drawings near the front of the book. I studied the captain’s writing, not understanding the words, but looking for the name of places and anything that related to thirteen degrees, but came up empty. The entries were mechanical, stating the provisions they had acquired and an accounting of the supplies. Nothing seemed out of place. I turned the pages, scanning the remaining entries to see where they had gone next, and found a missing page. It was not apparent at first, having been cut from the spine with a knife rather than torn. The following page placed them hear Honduras—a substantial gap.
I moved forward, plotting their journey up the Mexican coast and across the Caribbean, but nowhere did thirteen degrees come in. Flipping back, I looked at the page numbers and noticed the missing page was thirteen. There had to be a significance to the number but I had no idea what it was. From Cartagena they had traveled northwest and then east across the Caribbean. The logbook showed no course at thirteen degrees. Superstition could be at play, but why mark the line on the chart?
I had to look forward and not back if I was to figure out the riddle. The chart had markings all over it and I found a light line marking the ship’s passage from South America to where we had taken her. There were other lines and notes as well, but they were in a different hand and I expected they were from the previous captain.
The strange phrase caught my eye again. They were clearly words and I realized that if they were not in any language prevalent in this hemisphere, it was likely a code. Gasparilla had used ciphers before to communicate with other captains, most notably Lafitte. I was fully alert now, looking on the letters in a new light.
Knowing what it was and breaking the cipher were two different matters. There were two kinds of codes that we had used before, but I discounted the method where identical books were used by people in different locations, an agreed-on page and line revealing the key. The other method was simpler but had multiple combinations. It would be tedious, but I had a good feeling it was a Cesarian code. The cipher was based on advancing the alphabet by a set number of characters.
I pulled out a blank piece of paper and made a chart showing the progression of letters and numbers and started working through them. There were a few close calls, but none made it past the first four letters. I sat back and rubbed my eyes, dreading the work ahead. It could take hours to work through the combinations. I looked back down at the chart and saw the line again.
Thirteen had some significance to the captain. I laid out the alphabets with A starting under the thirteenth letter N. I wrote down an L on the paper and looked up the next letter. After the first three words I knew I was on the right track. I didn’t understand the words, but suspected they were French. It took the better part of an hour to finish the translation and I looked down on the paper and read the words in my head: Le trésor se trouve en dessous de la surface près de la pointe la plus septentrionale sur le côté ouest.
I looked over at Shayla, still sleeping peacefully and went to her. “Wake up. I need you.” I shook her shoulder.
She opened one eye and smiled. “I need you too, but in the morning if it still suits you,” she said and closed her eye.
“No, I have it.”
“Good for you, now let me sleep.” She rolled over and faced the bulkhead.
“Please. Just a minute and you can go back to sleep.”
She rolled back over and looked at me. “You always say that,” she said.
I went for the paper and handed it to her.
“What’s that, then?” she asked, leaning on an elbow as she read it.
“Can you translate it for me?” I asked.
She was fully awake now and sat up. “This is it!” One word at a time, she read it in French and then translated it into English: The treasure can be found below the surface near the northernmost tip on the west side.
I hugged her and took the paper, writing down the English translation. She was wide awake now and pulled a shift over her head, then ran her fingers through her hair. Together we left the cabin and climbed to the deck. It was still dark, but the sky to the east held the glow of the sun just below the horizon. Swift had given the helm to Mason when the watch changed several hours before, and I followed the glow of his pipe to where he sat.
“Here it is!” I handed him the paper with the code and translation. “This should get us within spitting distance of the king’s gold.”
“And just in time. We should make landfall any time now.”
He lashed the wheel and we went to the chart, taking the translation with him. “There’s the northern tip,” he said, pointing to it with his finger.
There was no mistaking the point sticking out far to the north of the rest of the island. “And to the west puts it here.” I pointed to the side of the landmass of Little Inagua.
“It says it’s below the surface. Do you reckon that means water or land?” he asked.
“Only one way to find out, but the diving gear is on the Panther.” There had been no need to take it with us.
“Best to see what things look like before we go messing with the magistrate. After last time, we don’t want no one tagging along,” he said and went back to the wheel, where he released the line holding the spokes and turned to the east.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We stood by the helm, the original pirates, Mason and I. Pierre and Shayla stood off to the side. They were close enough that she could translate what was being said, but stood so they were not included in any decision. Shayla as yet had no vote, something that still weighed on my mind. I hoped they saw her in a different light now after her help in Haiti.
“So, you’re sure you have this right?” Rhames asked.
I laid the paper with the translation over the chart. “It’s similar to the code Gasparilla used,” I said, trying to use our mentor’s name to give it more credibility. “Julius Caesar used it as well.”
“I don’t know about Julius bloody Caesar, but if it worked for the captain I would believe it.”
I had explained my process in solving the clues left by the French captain and pointed to the northernmost point of the island. “The clues lead here.”
“Be nice to have a local to guide us. Ain’t no telling about the reefs and there’s bound to be some tricky currents with structures like that,” Mason said.
I couldn’t disagree with his reasoning. The arro
ws on the chart showing the path of the Gulf Stream were very close to the eastern edge of the island and we had seen just how deadly the reefs could be in the Caymans. “I thought about going back to town, but the magistrate’ll see us come into the harbor. I don’t want any interference like last time. Besides, I’m not all that trusting of him after he took Pott.”
They all nodded. “So we are in agreement?”
“Aye,” Rhames said with Swift and Red concurring. “Let’s go have a look.”
It was still hard for the old pirates to see into the future. Speculation was not in their blood. They were not used to plans and explorations that might not yield any result. Stalking the shipping lanes with the lure of a sail on the horizon had been as much planning as they cared for. We were in sight of land and adjusted our course to take us around the less populated eastern side of the island. I went to where Pierre and Shayla stood.
“So you heard, then?” I asked.
“But why not go back for the other ship and go together? I’d like to know my father’s all right,” she said. “Maybe he knows this area.”
I hadn’t thought that Phillip might have sailed these waters. Things change quickly in these latitudes. “I’d like to get the gold without anyone else knowing if possible. Then we’ll go back for the other ship and take the temperature of the colony,” I said.
I went down to my cabin and lay down on the bunk, exhausted after being up all night, knowing that we had several hours before we would reach the likely spot.
The sun was just starting its decline in the western sky when I rose and went back on deck, feeling refreshed after a few hours’ sleep. I went to the port rail and looked out at the island—just another atoll in the Caribbean. It was odd how some of the islands had hills and mountains and others, like this one, were low and barren.
Ahead I could see what I thought was the northern tip and went to the helm to confirm our position.
“Be around it in an hour or so,” Mason said from the wheel. “I’m hoping for a nice anchorage in the lee.”
“I’ll get the chart from below and see if there are any markings.” I went to the cabin and rolled up the French captain’s chart. Back on deck, I laid it over the larger one Mason was using.
“So there’s the mysterious line,” he said, studying the captain’s marks.
I focused on the island itself, but there were no notes or any indication the Frenchman had knowledge of this area.
“See how his line goes to that small point there.” He pointed to a small spit of land. “The line’s not there by accident. I’d guess that’d be the best place to start.”
I agreed, becoming less sure of our goal after looking at the long coastline. We had to start somewhere, and it had to yield results or Rhames, Red and Swift would lose interest. Without immediate gratification they would become unruly and hinder the search. “Right then. That’s where we’ll start.”
Mason had what he needed and I climbed into the rigging to get a better look at the coastline. We gave the island plenty of leeway, staying a mile from shore. The features on the land were indistinguishable from this distance, but the water to starboard was an indigo color and the long swells told me we were skirting the Gulf Stream. There was a distinct line of small waves and debris where the current clashed with the shallower water. It was alive with flying fish springing from the bow remaining in the air for what looked like a hundred feet before reentered the water. I heard Blue and Lucy below, howling with excitement as they brought in several small dolphinfish. To the north, a smaller island was visible on the horizon. My mind started to wander, speculating about the treasure and what we would do after we found it. It would have to be large to satisfy everyone after Pierre and the crown took their share.
A call from below brought me back to reality. Men scurried up the rigging beside me and I heard Mason call out an order to change the sails. We were moving past the center of the wind and he was preparing to jibe. With a less skilled man at the helm, this was a dangerous maneuver, but Mason had a feel for these things. He waited until we were in the middle of the channel between the two islands and slowly started a turn to port. Many inexperienced sailors will rush this move, causing the sails to slam across, often throwing the men from the rigging, but Mason eased across the wind, calling out the exact moment when the booms would swing. With barely a sound the sails swung over as he continued his turn.
The island was on our port side now, the water a much lighter blue and the land vacant. We were close-hauled, pointing into the wind when he called to drop half the canvas. With the island blocking the wind, the seas were flat and I could see every detail of the bottom through the clear water. Swift went to the bowsprit with the lead and started calling readings back to Mason. I turned my gaze to the land and saw a building still under construction. The call was three fathoms and Mason ordered the sails furled. A few minutes later the anchor dropped and the ship swung and settled.
I climbed down, excited to start the search. Shayla was on deck now and together we went to meet the men at the helm.
“The clue says underneath, but it don’t say whether it’s the water or the land. Look over there.” Rhames pointed to the building. “Could be there, here or anywhere. Bloody treasure hunting,” he grumbled.
Pierre turned to the building I had seen and said something. We were so used to Shayla translating now that we didn’t even look at her. “He says that Henri had started to build this retreat here in case he was deposed.”
That gave us some hope we were in the right place. “We still have a few hours of light left. Why don’t we split up? Rhames, take Red, Swift and Blue. Check out the building site. Mason and I will see what lies beneath us.” Looking at the expanse of water and land, my excitement waned. The closer we were to the treasure, the farther away it seemed. The area was too vast. There had to be another clue to narrow our search.
Rhames armed the men and they climbed into the skiff. They were soon on the beach and making for the building. I turned to Mason, not able to hide the smile on my face. Remembering the stunning dives off the Caymans, I wanted nothing more than to get back underwater, but that would have to wait. With no idea where the treasure might lay, I had to find another clue.
Mason and I stared at the chart and my confidence waned further. There were no other clues that would put us closer. I called for Shayla and Pierre to interpret the writing, wanting as many eyes and viewpoints as we could get.
The four of us gathered around the table and Pierre moved carefully around the chart, translating the writing. It all seemed inconsequential. Shayla stepped in.
“It says on the west side of the northernmost tip, right?” Shayla asked and leaned in. “Show me the spot.”
Mason set the straight edge facing east and west at the very tip of land. Shayla was about to say something when we all saw it. To be sure, Mason drew a light line where the straight edge lay and then moved it to the thirteen-degree line, extending it until they intersected. We looked out at the water imagining the spot and saw nothing but blue water.
“It’ll be too deep there,” Mason said. “It’s something else.”
“Henri would never put it so close to his retreat,” Pierre said.
“But look here,” Shayla continued with her own thoughts. “How close the line is to the small island.”
We looked at what was just a dot on the map. It was so small that I had ignored it, but now, as we looked north, we could see the island in the distance. “That may be it. If I were a paranoid man, that is where I would hide it. Still in sight, but far removed.”
I knew the line would be less than accurate; with an island this small and the questionable precision of the charts it could be off by a mile. I dared not get excited, but when I extended the thirteen-degree line the intersection was just west of the tip. I looked at the sun and cursed that there was not enough daylight to search that day. Gunshots came from the beach and we all ran to the deck.
Chapter Twenty-Si
x
We ran to the rail and saw a flurry of activity on shore. Rhames and the men were running back to the skiff with a larger group in pursuit. More shots were fired and I saw a man drop. Our men were behind the skiff, using it for cover, but they were under siege. The other men had taken positions and would attack the minute Rhames made a move.
“Quick, get the guns ready,” I yelled to the men. With three crewmen I ran to the capstan and we hauled the anchor in. Next I turned to Mason. “Get us underway. They’re pinned down, we have to help.” He called out the orders to the remaining crew and I felt the boat shift. “Take her around,” I told him and went to the guns. With Rhames trapped on shore it was my responsibility to check the loads and site the cannon.
The Caiman started to move and I waited for Mason to pick his line. Shallow water was clearly visible about a hundred yards off the beach, and I would have to wait until we turned to make the final adjustments. I looked back to land and saw a volley come from our men, but their attackers were dug in. It would remain a standoff until Rhames ran out of ammunition—then they would be overrun.
The sails started to fill and Mason adjusted our course to catch the wind. We were too close to the shallows and he turned away from the shore, executing a quick jibe in order to gain enough leeway to come about and make a run by the beach. The ship veered slightly and he called out the command. The Caiman moved easily through the wind and settled onto a port tack. I waited until she settled on her new course and reset the elevation screws on the starboard carronades. Slowly we crept by the beach and I gauged the time and distance before calling the order to fire.
The Caiman rocked back as her guns fired. “Swing around in case we need to use the port guns,” I said to Mason and climbed partway up the rope ladder by the mainmast to see what damage we had caused. Rhames and the men had used the covering fire to put the skiff to sea, and the men were pulling hard toward us. Mason saw them and adjusted course to intercept. Shots came from the beach, but the skiff was already out of range.
Haitian Gold Page 13