Ramage's Diamond (45 page)

D
AWN
found the
Juno
two miles off Petite Anse d'Arlet, under way after being becalmed for three hours and with Ramage pacing the quarterdeck in a fury of impatience. The first lookouts aloft reported a frigate a mile to the north, still becalmed, and a few minutes later identified her as the
Surcouf.
Diamond Rock was out of sight behind the headland at the foot of Diamond Hill, and the devil knew what urgent signals might be flying from her signal mast.

Then the wind died again and the gentle curve in the
Juno
's sails battened and the canvas hung like drab curtains. “Bear away!” Ramage snapped at the quartermaster, anxious to turn the ship before she lost way altogether so that she would get the full benefit of any fitful puffs. It was hopeless trying to sail her close-hauled in a wind as light as this; better bear away two or three points and give the sails a chance.

“We could try wetting the sails, sir,” Southwick suggested. Ramage glared at him. “That's an old fish-wife's tale,” he snapped. “It just makes them heavier.”

“The water fills the weave and stops the wind passing through, sir,” the Master said defensively.

“Damnation take it,” Ramage exploded, “this wind is so weak it can't crawl down the side of a cliff, let alone get through the weave of stiff canvas.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Southwick said mildly, knowing he had had twice as much sleep as the Captain who, the quartermaster had reported, had his light on for much of the night writing reports.

Ramage looked seaward with his telescope. “Just look at that wind shadow over there. It's a mile away. It'll be noon before we get another puff here and in the meantime the whole damned French fleet could have arrived off the Diamond.”

“They would be becalmed too,” Southwick offered sympathetically.

“Not a chance! There'll be a nice breeze round Pointe des Salines and right up to the Fours Channel. It's just in the lee of these damned mountains—” he pointed to the half a dozen peaks between Morne la Plaine to the north and Morne du Diamant, to the south “—that we lose the wind.”

At that moment his steward appeared on deck to report that his breakfast was ready and Ramage, who had already put it off twice, decided that his empty stomach was neither improving his temper nor extending his patience. He went below with muttered instructions to Southwick to call him the moment the wind piped up.

He washed and shaved, changed into clean clothes, ate his breakfast, reread the draft of his report to the Admiral and his orders for Wagstaffe, filled in his Journal and wrote several more paragraphs of his diary-like letter to Gianna, and still no word came. The sun rose and the sunlight coming through the skylight made circles on the painted canvas covering the deck of his cabin as the
Juno
slowly turned in the current, like a duck feather floating on a village pond.

The clerk brought the despatch and orders for him to sign and Ramage growled at him to sharpen his quill. Were the order and letter books up to date? he demanded. The clerk said they were. Were any more reports, inventories, surveys and the like outstanding? No, the clerk said, everything was up to date, including the weekly accounts. Ramage dismissed him, irritated that the man had nothing for him to do. At the same time he was amused. The clerk usually had great difficulty in getting him to deal with any paperwork.

The fact was that he was trying to avoid going on deck. The sight of the cliffs and beaches gradually drawing south as the current took the
Juno
north was almost more than he could stand. If only the current had taken the frigate out to the west, where they would get a sight of the Diamond …

On deck the ship's company went about the day's work. Hammocks had long ago been lashed up and stowed, decks scrubbed and washed down, awnings spread, brasswork polished and the brickdust carefully swept up afterwards. The gunner's mate had appeared with a request that he be allowed to start the men blacking the guns and shot and complained that much had been chipped off the previous day. Ramage, appalled at the thought of men painting coal tar on to the barrels of guns that might be needed within a few hours, refused and told him that if he was making work for the other gunner's mates they could sew up some more canvas aprons for the gun locks. Usually several were lost when the ship went into action. The gunner's mate had agreed in his doleful voice that indeed it did happen, owing to the carelessness of the men, but all the necessary new ones and a dozen to spare had been completed an hour ago. “Report to

Mr Southwick,” Ramage said in desperation, but the gunner's mate said he had already done so, and Mr Southwick had sent him to report to the Captain.

“Grommets,” Ramage said firmly. “We need a lot more grommets.”

The gunner's mate's eyes lit up. “Ropework is for the bos'n's mates, really sir, but my men will do their best.”

By ten o'clock Ramage and Southwick were pacing the deck together. The
Surcouf
was almost at the southern side of Fort Royal Bay, and the
Juno
less than a mile short of Cap Salomon, but there was not a breath of wind and the sea had flattened into a glassy calm. A dozen times Ramage had thought of hoisting out a cutter and having himself rowed down to the Diamond. It was only the realization that there was nothing he could do when he arrived there that made him finally dismiss it. If enemy ships arrived the only guns that could open fire at them were the Diamond batteries, and they could be relied on to do that anyway.

The very air seemed hot and almost solid and the slightest effort soaked a man in perspiration. Noon came and the men were piped to dinner. With the sun almost overhead, shadows were nearly vertical and the pitch soft in the deck seams. Southwick commented gloomily that they could be in the Doldrums for all the chance they had of getting a wind.

Five minutes later, as the men finished dinner, the wind came. A fitful puff from the north at first which caught every sail aback and started Ramage bellowing orders, and which died a moment later. A longer puff from the east lasted less than five minutes, and then a steady wind set in from the north-east.

Soon the
Juno
was making seven knots with every stitch of canvas set—courses, topsails, topgallants, royals and staysails. Ramage had set every able-bodied man to work: Bowen hauled on a rope next to the Captain's clerk; the cook's mate found himself hauling a halyard and being encouraged by the Captain's steward, who complained that his hands were too soft for that sort of work.

The wind reached the
Surcouf
ten minutes after the
Juno
was under way and Ramage watched as Aitken let fall sail after sail. At last the bays, beaches and headlands were beginning to slide past: Grande Anse d'Arlet and Pointe Bourgos; Petite Anse d'Arlet and then the headland separating it from Petite Anse du Diamant. Jackson was aloft with a telescope, while Orsini waited by the binnacle with the signal book in his hand and a telescope under his arm.

Diamond Rock suddenly came in sight beyond the headland and a moment later Jackson hailed that no flags were flying from the Juno battery mast. Ramage realized he had been standing rigid, waiting for that hail, and as he relaxed he turned to Southwick and grinned. “The nest is safe!”

“Deck there!” Jackson's voice was urgent. “They're hoisting a signal now … three flags … three … five … nine!”

Ramage snatched the signal book from Orsini and read:
The strange ships are of the line; when answered, the signal is to be hauled down once for every ship discovered …

“Acknowledge it,” he snapped at the boy, and shouted up at Jackson: “The moment we answer they'll haul the signal down, but they may hoist and lower it several times. Count the number of times they lower it!”

He trained his telescope on the top of the Rock. He could just make out the signal, and it was lowered once. There was a long pause. One ship of the line. Then three flags were hoisted again and for a moment Ramage thought it was the signal being hoisted again before being lowered a second time, but Jackson shouted down: “Deck there! A second hoist … three … six … nought!”

Ramage hurriedly opened the signal book again. Against the figure 360 was printed:
The strange ships are frigates, when answered, the number of frigates to be shewn, as in the preceding signal.

“Acknowledge,” he told Orsini and again shouted a warning to Jackson. The signal was lowered and hoisted, then again, and then a third time.

A ship of the line and three frigates. A French squadron which had been covering the convoy on its way across the Atlantic? Or Admiral Davis at long last?

He called to Orsini, showed him the two signals in the book and said: “Make 359 with the
Surcouf
's pendant and lower it at once when she answers; then her pendant and 360, lowering three times. You understand?”

The boy nodded and ran to the flag locker as Southwick ordered two seamen to help him.

“Mr Southwick, we'll go down to the Rock under topsails!”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Southwick said and bellowed for topmen.

As the squaresails were furled and the staysails lowered and secured in the tops Ramage cursed the Diamond headland: it was still blocking his view right across the bight down to Pointe des Salines.

The moment the
Juno
was reduced to topsails, Ramage said quietly to the Master: “Beat to quarters, Mr Southwick …”

The Master passed the order that set the calls of the bos'n's mates shrilling, but his face was sombre as he rejoined Ramage at the quarterdeck rail. “I can't help thinking our luck has run out at last,” he said, “but the lads will put up a good fight, sir.”

Ramage shook his head and, seeing that no one else could hear them, said quietly but distinctly: “I don't propose taking either ship into action against a ship of the line and three frigates. It would be the same as locking both ships' companies in a magazine and setting fire to it.”

“We'll be hard put to get past them to make Barbados and raise the alarm,” Southwick said. “We'd—”

“As soon as we're sure, we'll run round the north end of Martinique. That …”

Jackson's hail from aloft cut him short. “Signal from the Diamond, sir …”

Both Ramage and Southwick waited, staring aloft at the American, and listening for him to read out the flags. Orsini was watching through his telescope but said nothing.

“What's happening, blast you?” Southwick roared.

“Sorry, sir,” Jackson called down. “They began hoisting a three-flag signal but they lowered it again suddenly.”

“More ships of the line coming round Pointe des Salines,” Southwick said sourly. “I thought just one didn't sound right …”

“Hoisting again,” Orsini yelled, followed a moment later by Jackson, who shouted: “Three flags … three … two … one!”

Orsini had the signal book open in a moment. “Sir—
The chase is a friend
…” He looked puzzled, held the book open between his legs and looked again with his telescope. He consulted the book again, shaking his head. “Yes, it means that, but I do not understand it, sir. Perhaps they made a mistake.”

Ramage patted the boy on the shoulder. “No, it's correct. They are having to use the best signal they can to tell us what they mean. The signals were never meant to be used by shore batteries. They are telling us that the Admiral has arrived.”

“Not the French Admiral, then?” The boy sounded disappointed.

“No, Admiral Davis from Barbados.”

The boy made a wry face. “I suppose that will mean more signals, sir …”

The
Juno
was just able to point high enough to pass inside the Diamond and Ramage could see the
Invincible
and her three frigates on the far side of the great bight, running with a quartering wind towards the Rock.

Suddenly Jackson hailed that the Juno battery had hoisted a signal, and a moment later called down the numbers. Orsini looked it up in the book and read it out to Ramage, doubt showing in his voice. “Number 251 is
Ships' companies will have time for dinner or breakfast,
sir …”

Both Ramage and Southwick laughed, and the Master said: “They know they gave us a scare, and themselves too, I suspect!”

Ramage reached for the signal book, checked a page, and told Orsini: “The Diamond's pendant and number 112.”

Southwick looked questioningly and Ramage said, “
Keep the maintopsail shivering.
Not much of a joke, but the best I can do for the moment.”

As soon as the signal was hauled down he told Orsini to make number 242 with the
Surcouf
's pendant. There was no need for both frigates to go down to meet the Admiral, and the sight of the former French frigate tacking back and forth in front of
La Comète
and the seven merchantmen, obeying the order “Stay by prizes,” would help to impress the Admiral, Ramage hoped.

He knew he was going to have to be as sharp as a diamond to make any impression on the Admiral, but he wanted three things. He wanted to get a command for Aitken. Perhaps not the
Surcouf,
she was a tempting plum for one of the Admiral's favourites, but perhaps
La Comète.
After repairs and rerigging she would have to be taken to English Harbour to be careened so that the damaged planks could be replaced, and not many officers wanted to spend a few weeks in such a hot place. She might even have to go to the dockyard in Jamaica. There was also a chance that the Admiral might buy
La Créole
into the service and could be persuaded to put Wagstaffe in command. That would give him a good push up the ladder towards post rank. Lastly he wanted to ensure that the batteries on the Diamond were kept in service. It was a decision that only the Admiral could make, but somehow he felt a proprietary interest in them.