Julian Stockwin - Seaflower

A boat-compass would suffice to keep a straight track, but Jarman pressed his cherished octant on Kydd. 'Ye could be grateful t' run a latitude down,' he said. 'You'll be able t' return it when y'r done.'

Stores for a voyage of up to a week were found. Renzi came down the beach with a small package. 'We need food for the spirit as well,' he said, packing it up under a convenient thwart.

'You're coming?' Kydd said, with pleasure.

'And why not? To leave you to enjoy the wonders of the new continent while I remain idle? This is asking too much.'

Kydd grinned, suspecting that Renzi's motives came at least in part from the knowledge that Kydd would need a watch-keeping relief at the tiller. Doud had volunteered to work the sails, and could always sleep between activity, but there would be no rest for the man at the helm. More than that, he knew he would be thankful for real intelligence and cool thought to assist him if it came to decisions that might mean life or death.

'Could we perhaps contrive an awning for Lord Stanhope? We can take our rest sitting athwart,' Renzi suggested. The beam of the longboat was nearly six feet, and with sails as padding they could lie quite comfortably braced around the sides of the boat.

At first light Kydd was down at the longboat, checking every line and fitting. The awning sewn during the night was tried and declared a success, as was the sliding stretcher hanging below the thwarts.

It was time. Kernon and Lady Stanhope accompanied Lord Stanhope down to the boat, their faces set and grave. Cecilia followed with last-minute comforts for the men, while Stirk carried the heavy water barricoes himself.

'My darling .. .' Charlotte bent to her husband and whispered to him while others averted their eyes.

Stanhope's reply was sad but resolute. 'No, my dearest, grant me this only, that of all things I will have the confidence that you are safe from harm. I must go alone and, with God's grace, we shall prevail.'

Her hands squeezed his — then let go.

'We must put you aboard now, my lord,' said Kernon, sounding choked.

The boat was drawn up at the water's edge. The tumbling seas looked colder and more inimical, and glances seaward showed that Kydd was not alone in his feelings. Stirk came up, shuffling his feet in uncharacteristic awkwardness. 'Y'ere a chuckle-headed sawney as ever I saw, Tom, but I honours yez for it,' he said, in a low voice. 'Keep lucky, cock, an' we'll step off on a spree some time ...'

It seemed that the whole ship's company of Seaflower was gathered as Lord Stanhope was placed tenderly in his stretcher. His wife stood motionless, her stricken eyes fixed on her husband.

Cecilia pushed forward. 'I shall go with him,' she declared firmly. 'He needs care. Kindly wait while I fetch a few necessaries.'

'It's - that's impossible, Miss Cecilia,' said Kernon, scandalised.

'Nonsense! I will accompany his lordship — you know that I must, if he is to be of use to any on whatever mission this is that requires so much urgency.'

Lady Charlotte clasped Cecilia and began softly, 'My dear ...'

Impatient, Cecilia told her quietly, 'I know we are in the very best hands, Lady Stanhope, do not concern yourself any further on our behalf. We will be quite safe.' She hesitated a moment, then said gently, 'You see, Kydd is my brother Thomas, Lady Stanhope ...'

Arrangements concluded, stout hands were applied to the gunwales and the boat entered the still white-dashed waters, rearing and bobbing. Cecilia was handed aboard, Doud heaved himself into the bows and Kydd and Renzi took their places aft.

A signal to Doud had the foresail soaring up the stay and while Kydd setded in the sternsheets with the tiller, Renzi cautiously showed main canvas to the brisk wind. A lurch to leeward and the boat started seaward, a bumpy, swooping scurry until they crossed the outer breakers, then the sea winds took hold and they lay to the blow, heading for the open sea.

Kydd thought only then to look astern, to see the dots of people lining the diminishing shore, the scattered waving, the forlorn bulk of Seaflower in the midst of the battered palms. He held up his hand in farewell and saw a flutter of kerchiefs in return, then turned forward, his face hardening in resolution.

Cecilia was doing something for Lord Stanhope, and Renzi was busy tying off on the lines. Doud stepped carefully around them. At his approach Kydd steeled himself for bad news, but Doud grinned down at him from a midship thwart, hanging on to one of the shrouds. He gave an exulting whoop, and began singing,

'Farewell and adieu, to you, Spanish ladies!

Farewell and adieu, you ladies of Spain;

For we've orders for England, you bold-eyed and lovely

But we know in a short time we'll see you again!'

To Cecilia's evident delight all the sailors took up the refrain:

'We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors;

We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas;

Until we strike soundings in the Channel of England,

From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues.'

At noon Cecilia, by unspoken concession, took charge of provisions, and each in the boat received a ship's biscuit surmounted by cold tongue and a pickle. The wine was recorked after a splash of Bordeaux flavoured the water ration agreeably, and a morsel of seed-cake completed their noon meal.

An overcast sky still prevented a noon sighting, but a steady south-easterly course was not hard to sustain, and with the winds coming more abeam they made good speed. Towards evening the sea had moderated, the sun finally emerged and the wearisome jerking motion settled to a regular swelling surge.

Cecilia made Lord Stanhope as comfortable as was possible and the boat sailed on into the night. The seamen aboard, used to regular watches, had no difficulty in falling in with the rhythm, but a pale dawn revealed a hollow-eyed, plank-sore Cecilia.

Without a word, Renzi reached for the awning. He loosened its end, lifted it up and secured each corner to an opposite shroud. 'Milady's toilette,' he murmured, and clambered aft followed by a suddenly understanding Doud.

'Sir, you are too kind,' Cecilia croaked and, without meeting anyone's eye, vanished behind the improvised screen; the plash of water showed that she was making good use of her privacy.

Later in the morning a cultured cough from amidships drew Cecilia to Lord Stanhope. 'Should you be so good as to tighten these bandages? I am certain I may sit, which would give me the greatest satisfaction since it has always been my practice to look the world in the eye.'

At noon, to Kydd's gratification, the sun was bright and beneficent. He took a sighting carefully and, after due consultation with the tables, he turned to the chart with Renzi. 'Here, somewhere along this line o' latitude, that's where we are of a surety, Nicholas.'

Cecilia could not contain her curiosity. She crowded into the sternsheets with them, her eyes searching eagerly for meaning in the chart. 'Pray where are we, Tom? You are so clever, it looks a perfect conundrum to me.'

'Well, sis, we are somewhere here,' he said, with a sweep of his hand across the chart along the known line of latitude.

'Oh,' she said.

Kydd added, 'If only we'd a longitude, we c'd tell exactly where we was.'

'Yes we must not be accounted lost,' added Renzi. 'We have but to extend our south-easterly heading and we shall be quite certain to end our voyage on the coast of South America.'

Cecilia looked at him with round eyes. 'Are the natives fierce there?' she asked fearfully.

'I rather think they have been tamed by the Spaniards by now? dear lady,' Renzi replied.

The low, rambling coastline of the continent emerged out of the haze of noon the next day, sending the seamen feverishly to their chart, but it would be no easy fix, and they closed the coastline with some trepidation.