The Triangle and The Mountain: A Bermuda Triangle Adventure (9 page)

They moved along at a brisk pace but they did not run.

“If we run,” said the master, “we will attract attention.
Right now we look no different from any other herdsman.” That was true. Each of
them had donned a pair of rather dirty and torn shorts to fit in.

***

Grant had the watch for the next four hours and it promised
to be a quiet one. When he saw Madeleine’s back disappear down the companionway
there was still nothing but dead air. He surveyed the horizon in all directions
and saw nothing but low, lumpy seas that did not go anywhere in particular. To
the west the back of the storm was still visible and on the northern horizon a
few fluffy clouds dotted the skyline. After the storm the temperature was
markedly lower, so he placed himself in a corner where he could get some sun.
For the second time on the trip he nodded off during watch. He dreamt that he
was standing on a mountain, his mountain, above the clouds that drifted in from
the northwest and covered everything before his feet in a thick layer. He
wondered if he could walk on the clouds.

He woke up from a slapping noise. He quickly realised why. There
was wind! And it had veered. They had set the sails for the trade wind from the
east but it moved around the back of the boat and became a fresh breeze from
the south west. He changed the sail plan, carefully gybed the booms around and set
course in a north-easterly direction.

Soon they were doing nine knots again. Grant had used the
double-rig configuration to its best advantage and the boat ran ‘wing-on-wing’.
 

Madeleine appeared when the sun was already inclining to the
western horizon.

“Have you slept some?” Grant asked. What made him ask was
that she had obviously spent time in the bathroom and more time in front of a
mirror. He was disappointed to see that the budding sailor woman had made way
for Barby once more.

“A bit,” she said. “And I just had to use your golden taps.”

“Apologies that I can only offer you a shower,” said Grant.

“It’s ok. It was refreshing anyway.”

“You did remember to turn off the taps?”

“Of course. How could you presume that I would not?”

 “I’m just thinking of the tale of these four old guys who
bought themselves a yacht and went cruising. Three days into their first
journey they sent out a Mayday. They had no water left because a chap forgot to
turn off the shower.”

“I’ll remember,” said Madeleine.

“We carry five thousand litres of water,” said Grant. “Which
means that showering is not an issue. Many of these smaller cruising yachts
carry so little that some guys just don’t clean at all, for weeks at a time. You
must smell them when they arrive at a marina after two months at sea.”

“Do they have showers at the marinas?”

“Yes, normally they do. When a yachtsman arrives and heads
for the showers first thing, you know there is not much water left on board.”

“Before we get to that point I think we can split up the
water. I shower and you go in the sea.”

“Or the other way round,” said Grant.

“I’ll take the shower. If you are nice to me I will
volunteer to make dinner. Somehow I am hungry again. What would you like?”

“Anything,” he said. “Warm up some of the pre-packed meals.
But not beef curry for me. I had some last night already.”

She made a chicken night out of it. Chicken a la king for
him and chicken curry for herself. Chicken was not his favourite dish but what
the heck. It had to be eaten sometime. She came up the stairs balancing a plate
of food in each hand, complete with fork and knife. He put the knife down and
got to work with the fork.

“I told you everything about the house where I grew up,” she
said, “but you have not told me anything yet about the castle you are
building.”

“I suppose we were interrupted by a squall,” said Grant. He
put his plate down and disappeared down the companionway. When he came back, he
had a blank sheet of paper and a pen.

“This is the basic layout,” he said and drew a number of lines
on the paper. He grabbed his plate again while she studied the sheet.

“I see thick walls and a courtyard, with buildings inside
the courtyard. This looks a lot like a medieval design.”

“That is exactly what it is,” said Grant. “I’m going to find
lots of body armour and swords and deck out my main hall with it. It will be a
period piece.”

“Like the castles on the hilltops in Europe.”

“Exactly. Everybody who passes by on the highway down below
will be able to look up and see it.”

“Are you going to make a tourist attraction out of it, like
we do with ours?”

“No. I think I will live there alone. It will be just for me
and my mates. Now and then I will descend with my para-glider and scare the
population, but I don’t think I want too many people around.”

“Who will pick you up if your para-glider lands below in the
valley?”

“I’ll make a plan. I’ll have some people working for me.”

“But not a wife.”

“Who knows, maybe even a wife.”

“And are you going to walk around dressed like people from
five hundred years ago?”

“Why would I do that?”

“It would be cool, I think. Think of all the parties you can
throw, with everybody dressed up in period clothing.”

“It’s an idea. I never thought of it that way.”

“How did you get to this design? Are you afraid of somebody,
like the tribes people?”

“There are no tribes up there. Only criminals. The guys on
the farm next door were attacked some years ago. They shot at them while they
were sitting in their lounge watching TV. But it’s the only incident I know of,
so it’s not as if it is a high crime area.”

“With you, anyway, they will have to get over the walls
first.”

“That won’t be so easy. I plan on having walls ten metres
high with double storey rooms inside. But first, they will need to get over the
moat.”

“Don’t tell me you are building a moat around it!”

“Oh yes. With a drawbridge. And I am going to stock the moat
with fish, so when I feel like fish for dinner I’ll just take a rod and catch
some.”

“I can see you standing on your drawbridge catching fish.”

“Watch me,” he said. “’Within two years I will have it all.”

“And what else will you have on the outside?”

“Naturally my own golf course. I’m not sure yet whether I
should make it nine holes or eighteen. Maybe eighteen, the more I think about
it.”

“And that is it?”

“No, I will need a stable for horses as well. What do you
think? Should I have the stable inside the walls or on the outside?”

“Oh, I love horses. I’ve been riding since I was a little
girl of three. It depends. Personally I’d prefer them on the inside. But if you
don’t like the smell of horse manure it would be better on the outside.”

“Then it will have to be outside. I was thinking of
acquiring ponies for the mountainous terrain. Or do you think other breeds like
your Arabs will be ok?”

“I think I must see it first. Why don’t you invite me
sometime? When I know what your ponies look like I can tell you.”

Another squall approached on the horizon. A full afternoon
of fast sailing was coming to an end. Grant motioned Madeleine to follow him to
the mainsail.

“Why do you have rollers on some smaller sails but not on
the big one?” she asked.

“Whow! What a question. I did not realise that you noticed
things like that. Why is it important to you?”

“Because we have to work so hard to get it down and then up
again.”

“Ok, I see your angle. Actually, it was the cause of heated
debate when we chose the rig for this boat. There are quite a few yachts like this
out there with roller furling on all working sails. It makes it so much easier
and you can control the entire boat from the cockpit, just playing around with
the sails - a little bit more here, a little bit less there and so on, using
the electric winches. I liked that idea a lot, so I’m on your side here. Then
some guys told me that it is not the safest way to go. These roller reefed sails
have to go into their housings all smooth or they will get stuck. If you have
really strong winds, they told me, you cannot guarantee that the sail will not
fold on itself in some way. You might get stuck with your mainsail up when it
could be crucial for your safety to get it down. Or the mechanism might just
break. And since you are now not used to work the sail by hand, you could
really mess up.  Which is why I decided to go for roller furling on the other
working sails but not on the mainsail. The result is that we have to work to get
it up.”

“And down,” said Madeleine. “My arms are hurting.”

“You just need to develop the muscles,” said Grant. “All the
women I know who work on sailing boats can pack a punch. Just think of your
forefathers for inspiration. They did not have winches at all. In fact, why
don’t you tell me more about them? I’m still curious.”

“What do you want to know?”

 “What kinds of ships have they used?”

“They actually did not go for the biggest ships. But they
liked them fast. That was why you had so many innovations in sailing that came
from my island. There is a rig they called a ‘Bermuda rig’, which was developed
to get more speed on boats during that time. Perhaps you’ve have heard about it.”

“I know what it looks like, yes. In fact, we are using it on
this boat. But if they did not go for the biggest ships, how have they managed
to get the large trade ships to give in to their demands?”

“By carrying more cannon, I suppose.”

“The poor Spanish got hunted by you guys as well as by the
pirates. It must have been scary to be on a Spanish galleon in those days,
trying to get all that Inca gold back to the homeland.”

“The pirates were the scariest. There was so much fear of
them, fuelled by all kinds of horrible stories. Usually a pirate ship only had
to raise the black flag with the skull and crossbones for a merchant ship to
drop its own flag in submission. They seldom had to fight. Captains of pirated
ships knew that any resistance would be punished mercilessly. Only a few of
them took that chance. When on occasion the pirates had to fight, they
preferred to use their smaller vessels as I said, even rowing boats. They would
go right up close, below the level where the cannons could shoot. From there they
picked off the defenders in the rigging using muskets and then climbed up the
side of the ship from their small boat which was kept in a protected position next
to the rudder where neither cannon nor sharpshooter could get at them.”

“Sounds clever,” said Grant.

“They were resourceful and they never gave a quarter.”

“Have you kept some of those skull and crossbones flags?”

“That is a very daring question but you are right. There was
actually very little difference between the privateers and the pirates. Often
they were one and the same. Sometimes a captain would be a privateer and a
pirate all at once. Sometimes he would have a letter from the king that made
him a privateer and sometimes he would just pretend to have one or make up one.
My forefathers were not angels. And I can tell you something else: those movies
starring Johnny Depp are well sanitised. The truth is a lot scarier and uglier.”

“Thanks,” said Grant. “I always like to know who I’m really
sailing with.” He was standing on the boom and Madeleine helped from the deck
while they tied down the big sail.

“Why is the boom so high?” asked Madeleine.

“If we work together, it’s not a problem,” said Grant. “Some
captains make their people sit flat on the deck while they are working, because
there is a lot to do down there.”

Madeleine made a gesture that he thought had something to do
with piracy or perhaps mutiny.

“That line in your hand is called a reefing line,” he said, ignoring
her and continuing the sailing instruction.

“And those up there?”

“They are called lazy jacks. They assist in getting the sail
down neatly, so we can tie it up easily.”

They were as ready as they thought they could be. Just then
the south westerly breeze died away and was immediately replaced by a strong
gust from the north-east. It carried a curtain of rain before it and the two sailors
were wet in seconds.

“Watch out!” called Grant. “The boom will swing by itself.”

He sent Madeleine over to the wheel. “Change course to the
left,” he said and hurriedly set the jib sheet. The yacht sped up again as the
sails filled. The new heading took them westward.

“We will be running before the storm a bit,” said Grant.

“Can you explain that again?”

“We are taking the wind from behind, slightly from the right,
until the squall has passed.”

 “OK, I can handle it. Why don’t you go take a rest?”

“Ha! I tell you the name of a rope and you think you can do
it all! He shut the hatch of the doghouse behind them as visibility disappeared
in an intense rain-filled gust. Fat, wind-driven raindrops hit the deck in a machine-gun
tattoo. Foam appeared on the tops of the waves and soon sheets of it either
smashed into them from behind or flew by.

When the short-lived squall was over the wind did not die
down. It continued blowing strongly from the north-east. Grant frowned and
nodded to himself.  He had a grave premonition.

“Keep the watch,” he said to Madeleine. “I want to see the
weather forecast. He went below and requested a download.

“OK,” he said to Madeleine on return.  “My worries have been
confirmed.  This wind coming from the north-east is just too steady. The trade
wind has shifted. Instead of pushing us along it is now pushing us back. It
appears that we can expect this to be the case for the next two to three days.
The squall that has just passed over us has marked a change in weather pattern.
What we don’t know is how long it will last. It could be weeks.”