Tim Severin - Sea Robber

‘Ah, Lynch. My friend here claims that these islands are sometimes known as the Galápagos. Have you seen that name on maps?’ Swan asked.

‘Galápagos in Spanish means “turtles”, so that makes sense, though the animals we ate last night were large tortoises, according to William Dampier,’ Hector replied. His attention was fixed on the man he presumed was Captain Eaton. The commander of the Nicholas had turned to look at him, and Hector was taken aback by the intensity of the scrutiny. John Eaton was muscular and fit-looking, a man in his early forties. Of average height, he was clean-shaven and tied his dark hair back club-fashion. He was wearing a freshly washed white cotton shirt and pantaloons, with a dark-red sash around his waist. His most striking feature was the colour of his eyes. They were a pale green, and slanted upwards at the outer corners. The effect was to make him look uncommonly like a wolf.

‘Have you charts for the Pacific?’ Arianz interrupted. He addressed the question directly at Eaton, ignoring Swan.

The Nicholas’ captain scowled. Hector could feel the animosity simmering between the two men. ‘What need have I of such charts?’ Eaton replied sharply. ‘Panama is where we cruise next.’

‘The men don’t think so.’

‘What?’ asked Swan, surprised. ‘We are agreed that our two ships, together with the Delight , will sail in company as soon as we have rested and repaired.’

Arianz turned to face Swan. ‘Mynheer, the company of the Nicholas have voted to sail for Manila. We have had enough of the South Sea.’

‘But …’ began Swan.

Eaton cut across him. ‘Tell the men I have no charts of the Pacific,’ he snapped. ‘And even if I did, I wouldn’t use them. If you want to go on a madcap voyage, you’d better find yourselves another navigator.’

‘We have,’ said the quartermaster, jerking his head towards Hector.

Eaton turned his wolf’s eyes on Hector. ‘Then good luck to him. Let his guesswork steer you to your deaths.’

‘Just one moment,’ said Swan soothingly. Hector sensed the captain of the Cygnet had rapidly reassessed the situation. ‘Tell me more of this scheme.’

‘The crew of the Nicholas have voted to return home by way of Manila, where they have a chance of plunder,’ said Arianz.

‘There’s no chance they’ll change their minds?’

‘None.’

Swan thought for a moment. ‘Captain Eaton, naturally I’d prefer if the Nicholas stayed in company with the Cygnet and Delight . We’d be a more powerful force. But if your crew can’t be relied on …’ His voice tailed off and he gave a shrug.

Eaton looked furious. ‘I’ll deal with my crew in my own way,’ he snapped.

Swan held up his hand in a calming gesture. ‘I don’t doubt it. But there are other concerns.’

‘So what do you propose?’ Eaton almost bit off the words.

When Swan next spoke, it was almost apologetically. ‘Your crew have placed me in a difficult position, Captain Eaton. I worry that their ambitions for a trip to Manila will infect my crew and those who serve on the Delight . You know how easily such people are swayed.’

Eaton gave a snort. ‘Every last one is a simpleton.’

Swan sighed. ‘To be honest, I’d prefer to be rid of any discontents.’

‘So would I.’

‘As it happens,’ continued Swan smoothly, ‘I am able to supply charts of the Pacific.’

He addressed his next remark to Hector. ‘Lynch, you’ll recall I informed the Governor of Valdivia I was en route to the Indies and had diverted my ship to his port in hopes of trade.’

Hector remembered the episode clearly. Swan’s claim that the vessel was bound for the Indies had seemed so flimsy. He waited to hear what his former captain would say next. He was all too aware of how devious and self-serving the Cygnet ’s captain could be, and at this moment the man wore a sly expression.

‘Naturally,’ Swan continued, ‘I carried Pacific charts and was ready to produce them as proof of my intentions. I still have those charts and will be pleased to lend them to Mr Lynch if he wants to make copies.’

As he spoke these words, Swan avoided looking directly at Hector. But the young man had already understood the real reason why the captain of the Cygnet was so ready to assist the crew of the Nicholas to sail off on their Pacific venture. It meant he would be rid of Hector and his dangerous knowledge that the gallant Captain Swan had once attempted to betray the crew of the Bachelor’s Delight to the Spaniards.

Arianz brought the discussion to an abrupt end with a satisfied grunt. ‘Good, let us go straight to your ship, Captain Swan, and collect the charts. As soon as the Nicholas is ready for sea, we depart.’

IT HAD BEEN altogether too easy, Hector thought. He had chosen a shady spot on the Nicholas’ quarterdeck, out of the glare of the equatorial sun so that he did not have to squint. He marked the vessel’s estimated position on the draft with a tiny cross. Picking up a pair of dividers, he paused for a moment to admire his own and Dan’s handiwork. The chart was even better than the original. Among his artist’s materials, the Miskito had all the inks and pens needed for making fair copies. Also Dan had produced sheets of first-quality paper that he had looted from a Spanish ship whose cargo included stationer’s supplies for the bureaucrats in Lima. Together, he and Dan had copied the necessary maps in less time than it had taken Arianz and his shipmates to finish careening their ship, float her off and set up her rigging. Meanwhile Jacques had seen to the loading of food stores, including several jars of quince marmalade, which he claimed as his share of the prize from the aviso. Even Eaton, initially disgruntled with the project for Manila, had participated energetically in the preparations for the Pacific crossing. Now, after four weeks at sea, Hector was still undecided whether the captain was genuine in his support for the voyage or had assisted because he was fearful of being left behind on the Encantadas. In return, the crew had agreed to keep Eaton on as captain, though they obliged him to hand over all his navigational instruments and almanacs to Hector.

Spreading the points of the dividers, the young man measured the remaining distance to Manila. If his calculations were correct, there were less than 200 leagues to run. He readjusted the dividers and checked the distance to the Ladrones, where Maria would have moved to live with her employer. The islands lay perhaps two or three days ahead, almost on the direct route. Hector had begun to allow himself a faint hope. Despite his earlier misgivings, maybe his friends had been right all along. If he brought the Nicholas within sight of the Ladrones, the crew would insist on stopping there. They would be keen to get ashore, to find fresh water and replenish their supplies.

The last of the Encantada tortoises had been eaten more than a fortnight ago. It was the largest, weighing nearly a quarter-ton, and had needed four men to hoist it aboard. Hector had been sorry to see it slaughtered. The ungainly, slow-paced creatures were not as dull and insensitive as they first appeared. If you put down a handful of green stuff at a distance, the beasts would detect the meal and lumber across the deck towards it. Inevitably the men had taken to organizing tortoise races and laid bets on the results. At first the animals had nudged and collided with one another as they crawled towards their prize. Then, with the ingenuity born of men with too much time on their hands, the sailors had discovered that each animal could be trained to move in a straight line. If the tortoises were prodded and whipped, they soon learned to crawl forward, each on its own separate track.