Julian Stockwin - Seaflower

'Sir, both chronometers did not survive th' storm.' This was bad news: latitude was easy enough to determine, given a sighting of the sun, but longitude was another matter. 'And I do not carry tables o' the kind that I c'n work a lunar.'

'I see,' said Kernon. It was fundamental to the strategics of their plight that they knew their position, and his frown deepened.

Jarman took a deep breath. 'As far as I c'n judge, an' this is before a good observation o' the sun, we are t' the south 'n' west o' Jamaica, distance I cannot know.' He paused, then continued, 'There are no islands in th' central Caribbean, but many in the west. The path o' the hurricanoe was from th' nor' east, but you will know their path often curves north - or not. Sir, this is my best estimate, south an' west o' Jamaica.'

Kernon contemplated it for a moment, then turned to Snead. 'The ship?'

'Nothin' that can't let 'er swim, but we ain't a-goin' to see that wi'out help.' He pointed at the two hundred yards of dry land down to the sea. 'Anythin' the size of a frigate c'n tow us off, but fer now . ..'

In the rude shelter where he lay, Stanhope stifled a cry of pain. 'Desire Renzi to attend me, if you would, my dear,' he whispered. His wife knew better than to object. When they returned he said firmly, 'Charlotte, I wish to speak to Mr Renzi alone.'

Stanhope looked up at Renzi with the ghost of a smile. 'We have met, I believe,' he said, in stronger tones, 'in — different circumstances, as I recall.'

Renzi did not recall, but there was no point in denying it. It was the merest chance that brought together a foremast hand and a peer of the realm, but it had happened.

'Your father is no friend to the government, as you must agree, but I have always believed his son to be made of straighter grain.' His smile faded and he winced at the pain. 'You will have your reasons for decamping from your situation, I have no doubt—'

'They seem sufficiently persuasive to me, my lord.'

'It would be my honour to be privy to them.'

It was an impertinence, but Stanhope's penetrating eyes held his unblinkingly — this was no idle enquiry. Renzi felt that deeper matters hung on his reply. Concisely, and with the least possible detail, he spoke of the moral decision leading to his period of exile.

Stanhope heard him out in respectful silence. 'Thank you, Renzi. My supposition was not in error.' He paused, clearly recruiting his strength for a higher purpose. 'I shall respect your position completely, and with all discretion — and may I express my deepest sense of your action.'

'Thank you, my lord.'

'It serves to reassure me of what I am about to do.' He bit his lip, levered himself up to his elbows and looked directly at Renzi. 'It is of the first importance -the very first, I say, for me to reach England. The reason is that I have intelligence of certain actions planned by the Spaniards to do us a great mischief immediately war is declared.'

'War!'

'Of course. It is planned to move against us once certain matters are in hand, but you can be assured that war is imminent.' Renzi's mind raced — Spanish possessions ringed the Caribbean and a whole continent to the south, and he could think of a hundred mischiefs possible against unsuspecting islands.

'I have no despatches, it is too dangerous.' He looked soberly at Renzi. 'I am not sanguine as to my personal survival, and it is a heavy concern to me that my intelligence die with me.'

Renzi said nothing, but feared what would come.

'I must now make all particulars known to you — under the strictest confidence that you can conceive, Renzi.'

'Yes, my lord.' A loathing of dissimulation made him unfit for the role of intelligence, Renzi knew, but there was little he could do to avoid this duty.

'It may happen that I am able to reach England - Deo volente - but if not, then I do require that you make known your intelligence to Mr Congalton at the Foreign Office by any means you can contrive.'

'I will.'

He coughed once and lay back. 'Every day lost racks at my soul. What are our chances of an early return to civilisation, do you think?'

'Sir, this is something for Captain Kernon to disclose, but I should not be hopeful of a speedy resolution.'

Stanhope groaned, whether in frustration or pain it was difficult to know. 'Nevertheless, do you please attend. Now, the essence of this Spanish plot is .. .'

Satisfied with his immediate steps in the situation, Kernon strode across the clearing to Lord Stanhope's shelter, to see Renzi emerging. 'Is Lord Stanhope at liberty to see me?' he asked.

'I do believe he will be more than happy to do so, sir,' said Renzi, 'but you will be aware that he is considerably out of countenance owing to his indisposition.'

Kernon entered, removing his hat. 'Sir, do you wish a report on our situation?'

'Thank you.'

'I have good news,' Kernon began. 'We have found two springs of water and there are goats on the island. We shall neither starve nor suffer want of water. In large, this amounts to an inconvenience only, my lord.'

'But our chances of rescue, Captain?'

'Equally good, I'm happy to say. The master believes us to be somewhere in the south-western Caribbean. This means that we are on the sailing route taken by the logwood traders of Campeche and also the hide droghers of Honduras. It is only a matter of time before we are sighted and Port Royal alerted of our plight. In any event at this moment I have no doubt they are combing the seas for you. Our vessel is unharmed and we have only to wait'

Tor how long, sir?'

Kernon considered. 'I am confident that within a very few weeks we shall be found — a month or two at the most.'

'Damnation!' The vigour of his response brought a flinch at the pain. 'Captain, I have every reason to desire an early return, you must believe. Can we not use the boat?'

Kernon looked shocked. 'I do not recommend such a course of action at all, my lord. The hazards are many, and here we may comfortably await our rescue without risk.'

'What hazards?'

'Why, sir, where would we go without we know where we are? If we sail north in the expectation that Jamaica is there and miss it, we face a hard trip to Cuba. If to the north-east we may fetch up against San Domingo and a French prison—'

'Yes, yes, but it is possible?'

'But most inadvisable.'

'Captain Kernon, I want you to understand that I must make the attempt.' 'My lord—'

'Prepare the boat, sir, I will not be denied.' 'If you insist.' 'I do.'

'You will need seamen to navigate. I shall myself command—'

'You must remain with your ship. And so must your only other officer. Is there no other who can figure a course?' The effort was draining his strength, he grew pale.

'There may be,' Kernon said reluctantly, and passed the word for Seaflower’s quartermaster. When Kydd appeared, he said, 'I cannot order you to do this, Kydd, but are you able to undertake to navigate in a boat voyage to the nearest inhabited place, as determined by Mr Jarman?'

'I am, sir,' Kydd replied seriously.

The decision taken, it was short work to manhandle the longboat to the sandy foreshore. The seas were still up, but would almost certainly be navigable in the morning. The longboat was eighteen feet in length and could carry fourteen men with its eight oars. On the sand it seemed large and commodious enough, but Kydd knew that launched into the vastness of the sea it would magically shrink.

It would be rigged for sailing, a common practice for wide harbours and brisk winds, sloop-rigged with a single mast and runner backstays, but with an extensible bowsprit that would allow it to hoist the two headsails of a cutter.

As seamen padded down with the equipment and began erecting masts, tightening shrouds and shipping rudders, Kydd looked thoughtfully at his first 'command'. At the very least he would heed navigating gear. Jarman and he had held conclave for a long time, reasoning finally that the safest assurance of a civilised landfall was to the south-east, the coast of the continent of South America, a guaranteed unbroken land-mass across their path that had a scattering of Spanish settlements continuously along it. Renzi had been unusually positive that in his opinion the Spaniards had not opened hostilities, and that the high status of their passenger would compel immediate assistance.