Governor Ramage R. N. (37 page)

“Try prayer,” Yorke advised.

“Miracles,” Ramage said. “He—we—need lots of miracles.”

A minute or two before the schooner was due to hit the jetty her bow gradually began to come round to starboard. Ramage shouted to Jackson to clear his men out of the way—security was not necessary now. Jackson could have been conducting a band playing “Heart of Oak” without being noticed. Ramage began running down the slope from the house, followed by Southwick and Yorke.

At that moment the schooner passed clear of the end of the jetty and her bow slid up on the sandy beach at the water's edge.

Ramage, Southwick and Yorke all stopped, looking up at the masts now towering above them. “Bolt!” Southwick shouted and they spread out in all directions to avoid being crushed if the masts fell over the bow, broken like twigs by the force of the impact. But there was no splintering wood and snapping rope rigging. The screeching of the Spanish Captain, who appeared to have gone berserk, was the only sound to be heard.

Ramage turned back and began running for the beach, again shouting for Jackson who had vanished with his seamen. He had no idea how to regain control of the situation. His splendid plans took no account of the potentially lethal effect of bad seamanship.

The only way of getting on board the schooner now was by wading and clambering up over the bow. He waved to Southwick and pointed to the gun positions.

“One round to one side to scare ‘em!”

He and Yorke stood at the water's edge looking up at the schooner's bowsprit and jib-boom jutting out above them.

“I could strangle him,” he said thickly. “The damned incompetent idiot!”

“Saves anchoring or wearing out ropes,” Yorke said, “but of course, you get your feet wet going on shore!”

Ramage was trembling with rage. Where the hell was that damned American with his men?

“Jackson!” he bellowed. “Jackson, blast you!”

“Here, sir!” the American called. Ramage and Yorke looked round and saw nothing.

“Up here, sir!” said Jackson, peering down from the schooner's bow.

“What are you doing up there?” Ramage asked weakly.

“You said to board and—”

A tremendous explosion behind them sent Ramage and Yorke flat on their faces in the sand; then, as the noise echoed and reechoed across the bay and among the hills, sending up flocks of squawking white egrets, Ramage realized what it was.

“Your bloody brass ordnance,” he said to Yorke, standing up, and brushing sand from his breeches. “God, what a mess!”

“I don't know,” Yorke said coolly. “Prize captured without a shot fired until after it was secured!”

The schooner was
La Perla,
built at Rota seven years earlier of Spanish oak and larch. Yorke commented to Ramage that one advantage of having the ship run aground was that inspecting her lines was so much easier.

The ship's company had put up no fight and Jackson's description of how they captured her was one that Ramage could dine out on for years. They had realized
La Perla
would miss the jetty and run up on the beach, so that they were there to meet her, waiting on her starboard side and had been hidden from Ramage and Yorke.

As soon as she came to rest they had splashed out, slung their muskets over their shoulders and climbed up over the bow, using the bobstay and anchors to get a foothold. The Spanish sailors had been very courteous, assuming they were Colon and his men.

“They helped every one of us over the bulwark,” Jackson said. “One of the fattest men I've ever seen gave me his hand as I jumped on deck. As long as no one spoke there seemed no hurry so I began strutting up and down as though I was disgusted with the Captain and impatient with my soldiers.

“The lads were busy getting their muskets unslung, and without me saying anything, Staff and Rosey stood side by side, and the rest of the lads took the hint and formed up in one rank. So there we were, sir, my dozen lads standing to attention and me marching up and down in front of them.

“The Spanish sailors weren't taking much notice, of course, and the Captain was still screaming at the helmsman. I couldn't help thinking that if I didn't do something we'd be there for hours. So I stood to attention and just as I was going to say ‘Tritons, take possession of the ship,' both Staff and Rosey started laughing—seems I was puffing out my chest like a Spanish customs agent.

“With that we took the ship and then I heard you calling me, sir.”

La Perla
's regular task was delivering provisions to Spanish garrisons, the majority of them in Puerto Rico itself. There were no troops on the island of Vieques, Ramage was surprised to learn. The skipper of
La Perla
was indignant that Snake Island, or Culebra as he called it, had a garrison since it gave him another forty miles to beat to windward. Otherwise he left San Juan and went round to Ponce on the south coast and then on to Mayaguez at the western end of the island.

Refloating
La Perla
took four hours. At first Ramage thought they would have to use her small boat, take out an anchor astern and haul her off. Fortunately, just before he gave the order the wind freshened. As usual, it was easterly and the schooner's bow, at right angles to the beach, headed east.

The Tritons went on board, clambering up over the bow. Meanwhile the Topazes guarded
La Perla
's former crew. Soon Southwick and Ramage were standing on her quarterdeck looking over each side.

Ramage nodded his head to the southward, where some seamen were taking soundings from
La Perla
's only boat.

“Looks clear. We've got plenty of room. Then wear round and come alongside.”

If
La Perla
had run up on mud, it would have gripped her hull with all the suction of an octopus. The thicker the mud, the harder the schooner would be held. Luckily it seemed to be a sandy bottom.

Ramage walked the length of the schooner, noting her general shape, the point of maximum beam and, without realizing it, working out her probable underwater shape and the exact point the hull would pivot under the pressure of various combinations of sail.

The seamen reported the depths they had found to Southwick.

“Straightforward, sir,” he said. “I reckon we're only short of six inches of water forward …”

Which meant, Ramage noted thankfully, that with the angle
La Perla
made to the beach, and the direction of the wind, hoisting the headsails and sheeting them aback would give the schooner's bow a hearty shove to starboard, pivoting her so she was pushed off the beach. Then the big foresail and mainsail—already hoisted and just flapping—would be sheeted in and
La Perla
would be under way again.

It was a straightforward operation, though not a routine one, and the schooner refloated at the first attempt. He sailed her across the bay and back to get the feeling of how she handled, and then brought her alongside the jetty without any fuss.

The men worked in shifts for the rest of the day unloading surplus provisions and making room for the large number of people
La Perla
would now be carrying to Jamaica.

Most of the provisions were familiar to the British seamen, but there was much more rice than they expected, and many sacks of a kind of bean they had never seen before. One of the men was incautious enough to take a bite from one of a string of onions and let out a yell as he began gasping for breath, his eyes watering.

“Don't steal the grub,” Jackson told him unsympathetically, “but if you do, keep your thieving hands off the garlic.”

With everything prepared for the voyage to Jamaica, Ramage began to have misgivings. The risks were ones he accepted for himself and his men without a moment's thought; but with
La Perla
ready to sail, he found himself worrying more and more about the St Brieucs. Was he justified in taking chances with their lives, particularly since St Brieuc was a man valued by the British Government? The least he could do was warn them.

That evening he invited St Brieuc, St Cast and Yorke to his room for a talk, but when they arrived and sat down, looking at him expectantly, he found it hard to explain.

“The voyage we start tomorrow …” he began lamely.

The three men waited, all attention.

“There are risks …”

St Brieuc sensed his discomfort and said lightly, “We are becoming accustomed to them. They add a zest to life!”

Yorke came to Ramage's help. “These are different. I think our ‘Governor' has privateers in mind.”

St Cast turned to St Brieuc and smiled. “I suspect he is more worried about us than the treasure—a flattering thought!”

“He is constantly preoccupied with our safety,” St Brieuc said, as though Ramage was not there. “I think he should worry more about the treasure—I'm sure that would be the Admiralty's view.”

Ramage wondered if St Brieuc had guessed his thoughts and given a subtle hint.

“Either way, the privateers concern me,” Ramage said. “I want to be sure you understand the risks.”

“I assume it is considerable,” St Brieuc said, “since all the islands from here to Jamaica are held by the Spanish or French.”

Ramage nodded. “It is considerable, but I'm damned if I know how to describe it. If I told you there were probably six privateers between here and Jamaica, you'd conclude it was dangerous. If I said a dozen, a score or a hundred, you'd reach the same conclusion …”

“The figures mean nothing,” St Brieuc said, “since we have no standards to apply. Surely the point is, would you risk making the voyage with the treasure if we weren't here?”

“Yes, but that's not—”

“Yes, it is the point,” St Brieuc interrupted quietly. “You worry unnecessarily about us. If we stayed here, I think it would be only a matter of time before Spanish soldiers arrived to hunt us down—don't you agree?”

Ramage nodded.

“So if we stay here, we are certain of ending up in a Spanish prison—or worse.”

“Fairly certain.” Ramage thought a moment, and corrected himself. “Absolutely certain.”

“What are the chances of
La Perla
being captured by a privateer?”

Ramage shrugged his shoulders. “What was the chance of us being caught in a hurricane? One in a hundred, one in five … hard to say.”

“As far as privateers are concerned,” Yorke commented, “I'd put my money on not more than one in ten.”

St Brieuc smiled at Ramage, a friendly but worldly smile. “You think of yourself as a gambler, young man?”

“I suppose so. Not with money, but in action one has to …”

“Take an old man's advice, then—confine yourself to the odds in battle. Never go near the gambling tables!”

Ramage grinned. “You seem very certain I'd lose.”

“I am, and you've just proved it. You say that if we stay on the island we will be captured. We are one hundred per cent certain of losing, in fact. But if we sail with you in
La Perla,
we face only a one in five chance of capture. Although I'm the most timid of gamblers, I know which I choose!”

“Although mathematics aren't the ‘Governor's' strongest subject,” Yorke said dryly, “I think he is being unfair to himself!”

“Yes,” Ramage said ruefully. “I had in mind that if you stayed here and
La Perla
reached Jamaica safely, a frigate would come back and rescue you. I'd leave enough men to guard the Spaniards.”

St Brieuc's eyes twinkled. “Your heart is ruling your head. Doing that increases the odds against us. If we stay here, and
La Perla
is captured by a privateer, we still end up in a Spanish prison. If she reaches Jamaica, we have to wait for the frigate to get back. Head winds all the way, and perhaps another hurricane

… What might the Spanish have done in the meantime? No, please take us in
La Perla.
I understand your concern, but quite apart from the mathematical aspect which shows the odds are in favour of making such a voyage, we have complete confidence in you.”

Yorke nodded in agreement.

“Now that's been decided,” St Cast said conversationally, “how long do you think it will take for the Spanish in San Juan to do something about Snake Island?”

“Three weeks at the outside,” Ramage said. “Once a passing ship sights the wrecks on the reef and reports them in San Juan, the naval commander will send a frigate … Apart from that,
La Perla
will be reported overdue at Ponce within a week. Since Snake Island was her first port, they'll start investigating here. Because of Lieutenant Colon's mission, they're probably sensitive about Snake Island anyway.”

“The minute we leave,” Yorke said, “Colon will try to raise the alarm. Some men could reach Puerto Rico in a fishing boat—it's not that far.”

“Southwick has collected the boats and they are being burned in the morning, but if Colon has any sense, he'll set fire to the grass and bushes on the hills, and hope someone in Puerto Rico takes notice of the smoke.”

“We're lucky to have
La Perla,
” St Brieuc commented.

“Yes, we stand more chance of reaching Jamaica with her than if we had the
Topaz,
” Ramage said. “Not so comfortable, admittedly, but safer.”

St Brieuc looked puzzled.

“Ships,” Ramage explained, “are rather like human beings: you can learn a lot about them from their appearance.
La Perla
's hull and rig is clearly Spanish. She could never have been built in England.”

Yorke nodded in agreement as Ramage continued: “At first our main danger will be of capture by Spanish privateers or ships of war between Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo. Later there's a danger of French ships from the western end of Hispaniola and finally a slight risk of Spaniards from Cuba.