Buccaneer (16 page)

The canoes had to be fast, silent (an advantage paddles had over oars: a man crouched at the side of a boat wielding a paddle did not make the revealing creak of an oar in rowlocks), and capable of carrying a reasonable amount of cargo.

Antigua had mahogany trees, but none of the trunks had been sawn into planks, the planters preferring to buy planks brought in by the Dutch from the East Indies. Fortunately Saxby had stowed a two-handed saw, so he had gone off into the forests on the north side of the bay one day with his assistant Simpson, and found a good tree which had fallen in some storm two or three years ago – long enough for the wood to have seasoned but not long enough for the termites to have destroyed it.

Planking presented no problem: a dozen men with spades soon dug a pit lengthways under the trunk deep enough for the bottom sawyer to work, pushing on his end of the saw towards the top sawyer who was standing astride the tree.

The bottom sawyer had the worst task: the sawdust scattered down into his eyes and the wind did not cool him. Yorke realized he was fortunate to have four carpenters who happily went to work, two working briskly for half an hour and then changing places with the other two.

Saxby then produced a couple of adzes which he had kept stowed away in the
Griffin
for years, thickly coated in tallow to protect them from rusting. Three of the four carpenters had bellowed for joy when they saw the hoe-shaped axes and spent the next hour seeing which of them, standing on a fallen neem tree trunk, could chop the smoothest surface, using the adze as a gardener would hoe but slicing away thin slivers of wood.

With planks cut from the trunk, and some of the crooked boughs (with more cut from other fallen trees) used as frames, each canoe was built, looking in the early stage like a fish skeleton, the backbone formed by the keel and the frames rising like thick ribs at the bow and stern, the frames in between being lighter.

Saxby was in his element. Not a vain man, he found it satisfying nevertheless that he, a seaman turned plantation foreman, could also show carpenters how to build a canoe. The carpenters wanted to name the first one they launched after Aurelia, but she thanked them in a graceful little speech of refusal. She explained later to Yorke that the men had taken her by surprise and she felt superstitiously that if the canoe ever sank, she would die.

When they remembered that all four of them had been lodged in the Bridewell for three months before being taken to the London Dock and put on board a ship for transportation, they had asked Aurelia if she would launch their new vessel for them and name it Bridewell. She agreed, although it was customary, in England at least, for a man to launch a ship, using a bottle of port. When Ned warned her that the canoe was being called after the most notorious prison in London, she laughed and delivered an amusing little speech (cheered all the more because of her French accent, which delighted the men) in which she said they all owed a debt to the Bridewell because, she had been told, the accommodation was so good that only the most discerning guests stayed there while waiting to board ships for foreign destinations.

The second canoe was still being planked up when Bullock arrived back on board the
Griffin
from Falmouth village, obviously bubbling over with important news. He refused to stop to tell his wife and dodged round Mrs Judd’s ample and inquisitive body as he looked for Yorke, who was up on the fo’c’sle.

“Sir, they’ve sailed, more than a week ago!”

Yorke smiled at Bullock’s excitement and although he guessed the answer asked, to avoid misunderstandings: “Who have sailed where?”

“The fleet under Admiral Penn, sir, sailed from Barbados!”

“Bound for where?”

“Santo Domingo, sir. They’re going to capture the city.”

“And when did they sail?”

“Eight days ago from Bridgetown, sir. Their storeships haven’t arrived from England but General Venables refused to wait and they are to join him at Hispaniola.”

So Venables and Penn had been delayed by their storeships for – three months. From Barbados to Santo Domingo was some 900 miles. It would take the fleet about nine days, which meant that it was likely they would be attacking Santo Domingo tomorrow.

“Where has this news come from?”

“Oh, it’s common knowledge, sir. General Venables sent a local sloop to deliver messages to Antigua, Montserrat and St Christopher saying that more men are still needed and they should be sent on to Santo Domingo. The governor here sent out a crier with the news but the only volunteer is a man lodged in the jail a couple of days ago because he killed his wife with a machete.”

“He could be making a mistake,” Yorke said soberly. “The gallows might be preferable to what Santo Domingo has to offer that expedition.”

Saxby had arrived to hear the last of Bullock’s report and Yorke’s comment, and he agreed. “No storeships, which means no artillery or horses and no provisions and water beyond what the fleet carries, which won’t last long. Not enough men and only half those armed until the storeships arrive. And once on shore, cholera and yellow fever will kill ’em off faster than the Dons because they’re not used to the heat.”

Although he knew Saxby was probably right, his judgement was coloured by his hatred of Cromwell and the Parliamentary forces, and Yorke could not forget they were Englishmen and but for the Civil War they might be fighting alongside the
Griffin
’s men against these same Spaniards.

“There won’t be any Spanish privateers near,” Saxby said cheerfully. “They’ll either be making for Santo Domingo to see what pickings there are or, if they don’t know the condition of the English expedition, they’ll bolt home to the Main.”

Yorke thanked Bullock and gestured to Saxby to walk aft with him, where they could talk undisturbed.

“How long before the last two canoes are ready?”

“The second will be finished within a couple of days and, judging from the first one, will need to be in the water for three or four days for the wood to swell so that she takes up properly. Another week beyond that to build the third one.”

When Yorke nodded, Saxby said: “Perhaps we could make do with two, sir.”

“No – from what I’ve been thinking about smuggling, we must aim at unloading the goods as quickly as possible. The longer we spend in Spanish waters the longer we give them to decide to cheat or trap us.”

“But they want the goods and they know if there’s any cheating we won’t come back, sir,” Saxby protested.

“We are not the only smugglers. They could take all our goods, sink our ship, kill the men and put the women in bordellos, and who will know? A Dutch sloop could arrive the very next day, find there’s no business because the Dons have just robbed us, and sail without any hint that there’s been trouble.”

Saxby was silent for two or three minutes. “You think it could be like that, sir?”

Yorke nodded. “The Spaniards simply want our goods. They’ll pay if they have to, but don’t forget that we are the enemy and because we don’t share their religion we have no souls.”

“No peace beyond the Line?” Saxby muttered.

“Yes, but remember that two men pointing loaded muskets at each other might just as well be unarmed.”

“True – but supposing a third man comes along…”

“In that case, Saxby, we must make sure he is a friend of ours.”

“But how do we do that?”

“How many boats would you, a Spanish harbour master, expect the
Griffin
to carry?”

“One normally, but two if she’s smuggling, sir.”

“But we shall have four, Saxby.”

“If they see we have four, they’ll be all the more prepared.”

“Ah yes,” Yorke said vaguely, “if they
see
them all.”

“When shall we be sailing for the Main, sir?”

“You say the third boat should be ready in two weeks. By then General Venables will have attacked Santo Domingo and the word should have reached most places along the Main, so the Dons there will assume they are safe… If we sneak in to a remote port a few days later…”

Choosing a destination by Aurelia shutting her eyes and touching the chart with her finger was, Saxby had explained with masterly tact, a very romantic way of doing it, providing her hand stayed well up to windward – at the eastern, or Atlantic end of the Main. But choosing somewhere like Coro, more than 600 miles into the Caribbean, and thus 600 miles to leeward, meant they were wasting 600 miles of the Main.

Saxby had asked Aurelia’s permission to use the cabin and with her and Yorke watching, he had unfolded the chart and described to the
Griffin
’s owner, who made no claims to seamanship beyond knowing how to sail the
Griffin
, that their life was now governed by a single phrase, “keeping to windward”.

With the Trade wind blowing generally from east to west, from the Atlantic across the Caribbean towards Mexico, and with it being so easy to run with the wind astern and so difficult to fight in the opposite direction, beating to windward, they must begrudge every yard lost to leeward.

“Look at it like this, ma’am,” he said to Aurelia. “Think of it as the side of a hill. This bit here –” he pointed to the line of islands running north and south and almost touching the coast of the Spanish Main at Trinidad “–is the top of a hill. All this –” he moved his hand westward, towards Panama and Mexico “–is going downhill. The farther we get downhill, the harder the climb to get back up again.”

Aurelia nodded, glancing at Ned as if to reassure him that she was interested. “Yes, Mr Saxby, I understand. Is there not a special phrase for it, when you are at the top of the hill?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s ‘having the weather gage’.”

“So we should begin with the ‘having of the weather gage’.”

Ned smiled and said: “It is easier to say we should ‘have the weather gage’.”

“Very well, we have this gage, and then…?”

“Well, ma’am, we don’t know what prices we’ll get, nor what sort of reception we’ll find, so my idea would be to call at a small place first, right up here –” he pointed to a town marked on the chart as Carúpano, a town on the south side of a bay. “You see, we’ll be approaching from the north, at right-angles to the coast. These islands, Los Testigos, are about forty miles off the coast, but we can find Carúpano because of the mountains.” He pointed at the chart. “Here is Carúpano, but look, these peaks are high. La Carona is inland and one side of the town; San Jose is the other, and both are about the same height. Then Puerto Santo, not very high, and a headland, Punta del Taquien, are just west and will tell us if we’ve gone too far.”

“Why choose this particular town?” Aurelia asked.

“Well, it is a nice big bay. There’s a headland at one end of the bay and a small island at the other. Carúpano itself lies in a valley between two streams – something else that will help us to identify it. But don’t forget, the canoes may be landing in darkness.”

“Supposing we find Spanish ships there?” Ned asked.

“We turn and come out again. But I don’t anticipate any. Fishing boats perhaps, but nothing else. And no other port for –” he measured two spread fingers against the latitude scale “–fifty miles either side. So from there we can gradually work our way westward – there’s a thousand miles before we get to Panama!”

Aurelia nodded and then turned to Ned, looking puzzled. “C
héri
, there is something I do not understand. I understand very well when Mr Saxby explains ‘the weather gage’ and I understand the wind blowing always to the west, and the trouble it is to make a ship go against the wind…”

“Yes, my love,” Ned said encouragingly when she stopped, her brow wrinkled as though she felt she should know the answer but did not, and was embarrassed to ask the question.

“Well, as we go along the coast and selling our cargo, the Spanish pay us in gold, or perhaps exchange hides and tobacco…that is correct?”

Ned nodded and waited for her to continue.

“So eventually we reach, say, here –” she pointed to where the Main curved round and dipped south to Panama “–and we have sold all our cargo, and in its place we have gold, or silver, or hides, or tobacco…”

“Or a mixture of them all, ma’am,” Saxby said helpfully.

“Yes…” she said it doubtfully, so that it sounded like “Ya…a…s”. “But we cannot go back to Barbados or Antigua or any of these islands for more goods, because Cromwell’s men will seize you, and we can’t sail to England for the same reason. All we have is money. So where do we go next.”

Saxby and Yorke stared at each other in dismay.

“I’m damned if I know, beloved.” He kissed her full on the lips. “Don’t blush; Saxby and I are the ones who are blushing.”

Yorke had been pleasantly surprised to find that so few of his crew were seasick. The first voyage from Barbados to Antigua had revealed two men so sick that they were incapacitated, but his main concern, Aurelia, was completely immune along with Mrs Judd and Mrs Bullock. All three women displayed the determination in their characters in different ways, he noted, and it was as if they were too determined to be ill. Anyway, whatever the reason, Mrs Judd and Mrs Bullock kept their women busy in the
Griffin
’s galley so that the crew had regular meals.

They had sailed from Antigua and called at Montserrat, taking the risk that orders might have reached its governor to detain the ship, to supplement their selection of cargo, and then began the long voyage south towards the Main, keeping just enough distance from all the islands so that they could see them but were too far to the west to be spotted.

Slowly the latitude noted on Saxby’s slate decreased. Sixteen degrees north, and that was Guadeloupe on the eastern horizon, with the mountainous box of Dominica to the south, followed by Martinique; fourteen degrees cut right through St Lucia, and then came St Vincent (with Barbados a hundred or so miles beyond); twelve degrees just scraped the southernmost tip of La Grenade, and then just ahead of the
Griffin
was the Spanish Main, with the island of Trinidad tucked in so close it was almost touching.