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Authors: Dudley Pope

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On the south side and farthest from the
Triton
the island ended in Punta del Soldado, Soldier's Point, a row of high hills dropping gently to a low peninsula. Nearest, on the eastern side, there were three big hills with San Ildefonso out of sight beyond. There was a small mountain, Cerro Balcón, to the north, with a higher one beyond—Monte Resaca, more than 600 feet high.

As he looked through the telescope and saw his immediate future magnified in the circle of the lens, he wondered how many Spanish telescopes on the island were watching the two hulks coming down towards them and what orders the commander of the garrison was giving to his troops to secure the capture of the two crews … then he noticed that the wind was dying.

More than two hours passed before the
Triton
hit the first of the reefs. The sun was dipping towards the horizon as her keel caught the staghorn coral sticking up from the bottom like small trees. The impact broke off the tops of the coral and the ship drove on farther, swinging round broadside to the wind and waves and crunching across more coral. The splintering and groaning of timber warned that the rudder was being torn off. Two men had been at the tiller until, a few minutes earlier, Ramage had ordered them to stand clear. They watched open-mouthed as it suddenly slammed over and broke off.

Then the ship stopped, heading north. Southwick had disappeared below at the first shock of impact, and Ramage waited impatiently for him to return.

He signalled to Jackson.

“Get both leadlines. Sound round the ship. Mind the lead doesn't get stuck in the coral. Aft, each quarter, amidships and either bow.”

It was routine but really irrelevant. There was no question of ever refloating the ship so it would be of interest only to the court martial trying him for the loss of the ship. He realized suddenly that he had not thought of Jamaica, Rear-Admiral Goddard or Sir Pilcher Skinner for many hours.

Southwick returned to report that the
Triton
had not been holed and was not making water, and Jackson reported on the depths.

Both Ramage and Southwick then used telescopes to search carefully along the whole of the eastern shore of the island, looking for any sign of troops on horseback or boats putting out, but there was no indication anyone had seen them.

“Looks safe enough,” Southwick said. “No patrols or sentries, and they can't look seaward from the village.”

“A lookout wouldn't show himself.”

“No, sir, but we've been in sight for hours. Plenty of time to get boats ready.”

“They may be ready.”

“Doubt it, sir: they wouldn't want to leave it until dark to try to get through the reefs to us.”

“Less risk from the reefs at night than from our guns in daylight.”

“True, sir, but all the same I'm sure we haven't been spotted.”

Ramage shook his head, impatiently. “If I commanded a garrison here and I saw two ships drifting down on the island, I'd keep my presence secret.”

“But why, sir? Surely that would mean the seamen would be more eager to land. I mean, if they thought there was no opposition….”

“And I'd have my men hidden, so when they stepped out of their boats or off their rafts, I'd shoot them down.”

Southwick said ruefully, “You're right, sir. I only hope they haven't got a commander like you.”

“There may not be a garrison here anyway,” Ramage conceded. “I can't see any reason for one. I doubt if the Spaniards use the island. Just fisherfolk and some sheep and goats.” And, he thought, frangipani and jacaranda, hibiscus and troupial birds singing….

As they talked they watched the
Topaz.
Yorke had very little steerage-way; the merchantman would hit the reef more or less where the current decided. But, Ramage was pleased to see, it would be close to the
Triton.

The
Topaz
grounded seventeen minutes after the
Triton
and one hundred yards farther north. She too let go an anchor and then swung broadside onto the sea, and by the time she had come to a stop, the two ships appeared to have reversed positions: the
Topaz
heading north seemed to be leading the
Triton.

As soon as he saw the merchantman had settled, he shouted to Yorke through the speaking-trumpet: “Welcome to the Triton Shoal!”

“Thank you,” Yorke called back. “Sorry you beat me to it: I've always dreamed of naming a piece of territory.”

“It's yours in fee simple, then,” Ramage told him. “I'll put it in the log: ‘Both ships grounded on the Topaz Shoal.'”

Yorke swept off his hat in an exaggerated gesture. “Much obliged, m'lud, much obliged!” The two men, with throats getting sore from the prolonged shouting, discussed plans. Yorke agreed that the ship's company of the
Topaz
and her passengers should transfer to the
Triton
for the night and join them for the trip to the shore in the rafts next morning.

Ramage gave Appleby orders to set men to work chopping away a section of the bulwarks so that the rafts could be slid over the side, and as soon as he saw the axes at work he had a talk with Southwick.

“The weather looks reasonably settled now. I want to send the Marines and a dozen seamen on shore tonight with muskets to be ready to cover us as we land tomorrow morning.”

Southwick nodded his head in agreement.

“They'd better start as soon as a raft is ready. I'm going to put Appleby in command of them.”

“Oh, Appleby?” the Master said. “I was hoping—”

Ramage shook his head.

“Shall I tell Appleby, then, sir?”

“Yes. And tell Jackson and the master-at-arms to take three men at once to empty the spirit room. I want all the spirits brought here.”

“The fish'll get drunk,” Southwick commented as he went to find Appleby.

Ramage was thankful he could give the order about the kegs and barrels of rum stowed below without having sentries with muskets on guard everywhere. In all too many ships that went aground or started sinking, the accident was a signal for a number of the men to batter their way into the spirit room and drink themselves into a stupor. Often such men were the only ones drowned … He would keep a half hogshead of rum and the rest would be poured over the side.

There was a big splash, and Ramage saw the men had successfully launched the smallest raft and were hauling it forward, while a couple of men carried newly made paddles which had been lashed into bundles.

Damn, he'd given instructions for Appleby, but now he needed him to take the raft up to the
Topaz.
At that moment Southwick came bustling back.

“Appleby's mustering his men, sir. I've given the key of the spirit room to the master-at-arms. With your permission I'll leave with the raft to fetch the
Topaz
people.”

Ramage eyed the old Master.

“I didn't know you liked these boating expeditions.”

“Makes a change, sir. I can do with the exercise.”

Ramage eyed Southwick's pronounced belly and nodded.

Two hours later, as darkness fell, most of the people from the
Topaz
were on board the
Triton.
A dozen armed men under a mate had been left to guard the merchantman. Yorke had suggested getting all the provisions and water they needed next day and then setting fire to the ships but Ramage demurred. Both wrecks were hidden from prying eyes on the Puerto Rican coast by the bulk of Snake Island, and they had such low profiles it was possible that passing enemy ships would mistake them for some of the many low cays scattered across the area. A lot of flame by night or a big pall of smoke by day would be visible from just about everywhere—St Thomas, Vieques or Puerto Rico.

“But what if they do see the flames or smoke?” Yorke argued. “They won't get anything because the ship will be destroyed.”

“It'll tell them we're here.”

“They'll know anyway: they'll see the wrecks.”

“They'll see the wrecks,” Ramage said patiently, “but at a distance they might well mistake them for cays or rocks. Don't forget, they won't be
looking
for wrecks.”

“But supposing they do see them?”

“If they find two dismasted wrecks with no one on board, they'll probably guess it was the result of the hurricane and think the survivors were taken off at sea by other ships, leaving the wrecks to drift on to the reef. They'll probably pillage what they can and go happily on their way. But if they find the wrecks burned, they'll know people were here
after
the ships hit the reef; people who lit the match. They'll start searching the island—and they'll know they have two complete ships' companies to find.”

“You're quite right,” Yorke admitted.

“For the time being, my main concern is to keep us all out of the hands of the Spaniards: their jails are a little primitive.”

“Agreed,” Yorke said. “By the way, to avoid any embarrassment or misunderstanding—how do you want to deal with my men?”

“We may have to think in terms of weeks, or even months, on shore here,” Ramage said tactfully.

“That's why I'm asking the question.”

“Have you any doubts about them?”

“Yes,” Yorke said frankly. “They're merchant seamen; I can't beat them on the head with the Articles of War.”

“What do you suggest?” Ramage asked cautiously. He knew what would be best, but he wanted Yorke to mention it.

“Press ‘em,” Yorke said succinctly. “Put them down on the
Triton
's muster roll. Twenty-eight more men to serve the King.”

“You're sure about the mates?”

“Very sure: there's several months' pay due to them, so I've bought those two!”

“Fine,” Ramage said. “I'd better press the men before I abandon the
Triton
officially. I haven't the faintest idea what the regulations are, but I think that's when the
Triton
ceases to exist.”

“Look,” Yorke said, his tone of voice indicating the seriousness of what he was going to say, “have you really thought about not burning the
Triton
and
Topaz?

Ramage nodded without saying anything.

“But you're taking a big risk, aren't you? You personally, I mean. When you face a court of inquiry, couldn't they claim you ‘didn't do your utmost' to prevent your ship falling into enemy hands? I mean, they could claim the Dons could tow the wrecks off the reef and refit them.”

“They could, and probably will. But the only way of destroying the ships is by setting them on fire. And that would probably lead to our being discovered by the Spaniards. Not us so much as the St Brieucs.”

“You save them from capture only at the risk of your neck in fact,” Yorke said.

“That's putting a melodramatic interpretation on it. There's no choice.”

“They'll never agree to it.”

“They've no say in the matter,” Ramage said flatly and, since what had to be made clear could be said now without too much embarrassment, he added: “You're forgetting I'm in command.”

“No I'm not,” Yorke said amiably. “I've even brought my dress sword to wear when you are enthroned as Governor of Snake Island. It's just that I'm not forgetting Admiral Goddard's interest in your welfare.”

“I appreciate that,” Ramage said, “but he's in the happy position—if he's not drowned—of having me at his mercy whether I fire the ships or not! I can be damned if I do and damned if I don't, so that leaves me a completely free hand!”

Yorke laughed and then said quietly: “Whatever you decide, I'll back you with everything I've got. Everything.”

An hour later, after Yorke had spoken to them all, the men of the
Topaz
were entered in the
Triton
's muster book and credited with the bounty paid to volunteers. They'll probably be better off on Snake Island than if actually serving in one of the King's ships, Ramage thought to himself. Surprisingly, the
Topaz
men had been cheerful at the idea of joining the Royal Navy, as if they thought it would cloak them with its authority and protect them if they were taken prisoner.

Ramage inspected the Marines in the darkness using a lantern, and made sure their muskets and powder supply were well protected from spray and that each had a paddle. Then he gave Appleby instructions to make the best of his way to the eastern side of the island, which could be seen as a black smudge. The minute he landed he was to secure the raft and have the Marines find the best defensive place nearby and occupy it, taking up the powder and shot.

As soon as they were sure they had not been spotted, they could sleep for the rest of the night, leaving two sentries on duty. And next morning at dawn, when he saw the rafts ready to leave the
Triton,
Appleby was to drape strips of canvas over bushes to indicate where he was. It was all so simple Ramage was afraid there would be some hitch.

In the meantime his steward had been busy preparing Ramage's cabin for the St Brieuc family. This had entailed slinging two extra cots from the beams overhead. Appleby provided one; Southwick gave the other.

As Ramage gave orders for a hammock to be slung for him on deck, from the taffrail to the bulwark, he looked up at the sky to the eastward. He could see all the stars; for the moment the weather looked settled. There was just a breeze, and the waves were normal; there was no swell. But this was the Tropics; the weather could—and often did—change within an hour. Still, long before dawn the remaining rafts would be launched and, with the men, passengers and provisions on board, would follow Appleby to whatever Snake Island had to offer.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Y
ORKE had quietly prepared the St Brieucs, St Cast and Southwick for the landing: as the low waves curled and sucked, drifting the raft the last few yards and nudging it towards the beach, the young drummer, at a word from the Master, suddenly stood to attention and then played a ruffle.

BOOK: Governor Ramage R. N.
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