Across the Spanish Main: A Tale of the Sea in the Days of Queen Bess

by Harry Collingwood

“Young man, let me tell you that you and your two seamen have had a very narrow escape from imprisonment on that island for the remainder of your lives! We were running up before a fine breeze, this morning, for that wretched sand-bank of yours, intending to take you off, when we saw a craft steal out from under the lee of the island. One of the men aboard at once recognised her as the Black Pearl—the ship of that arch-scoundrel José Leirya. We signalled the commodore to that effect, and he replied, ordering all the ships to make sail and chase; for, you see, there is no doubt he very naturally supposed that the pirate had carried you off with him. Of course, sooner or later we should have brought the rogue to action; but that would not have helped you, as by all accounts he is the sort of man who goes down fighting his ship to the very last, rather than surrender, and that, I fully expect, is what will happen. Then the captain, I take it, thinking, of course, that you had gone down with the ship, would have dismissed you from his mind; and in yonder bit of an island you would have remained for the rest of your lives, or until taken off by some passing ship. The latter contingency, however, is a very unlikely one, so far as English ships are concerned, since the island is unknown to the English. And I have a notion that you would find it much more comfortable to die there, than be taken off by a Spanish vessel and delivered into the clutches of the Dons. The fact is, that all hands were too busily engaged in watching the chase to take much notice of your island. But here we are alongside. Now, men, up you come on deck smartly, and get that boat hoisted in. Hook on the falls there, and up with her!”

Reynolds sprang up the side ladder and, reaching the deck, closely followed by Roger, saluted the captain, who was waiting for him at the gangway, and reported himself.

“Very well,” said the captain, “get that boat lifted out the water. She must be hauled up and secured after we have swung the yards and are once more on the move. Up helm, Mr Widdicombe, and get way on her!”

Then he turned to Roger and welcomed him on board the ship; commiserating with him on his discomforts while on the sand-bank, and congratulating him upon his as yet unexplained and inexplicable escape from the pirates. He then recommended Roger to the care of one of his officers, and, directing Jake and Bevan to take up their quarters and duties with the other seamen until such time as they could be transferred to their own craft, turned away to give orders and attend to the sailing of his ship.

Even as the cutter had dashed alongside, the vessel, as though impatient to resume the chase, had paid off and had begun to move through the water, her bows having been turned in the direction of the other ships, and the craft herself merely thrown into the wind for a moment to lessen her way while the boat came up to her and the falls were hooked on. Then the helm was put up and the ship was away on her old course once more, cracking on and showing every stitch of canvas to the freshening breeze, in full and eager pursuit of her consorts and the pirate, the latter now being hull-down on the southern horizon with nothing below her topsail-yard showing. The flag-ship was the leading ship of the three pursuing vessels; and she was distant some nine miles from the Elizabeth. El Capitan—or the Tiger as she was now named—was two miles astern of the flag-ship, and some seven miles ahead of the Elizabeth; the latter vessel therefore had some considerable distance to cover before she could overtake her consorts. Night was now beginning to fall, and the masts of the Black Pearl gradually disappeared from the sight of those aboard the Elizabeth; but the flag-ship, being so far in advance, still had the pirate well in view; and now she lighted her three poop-lanterns as a guide to the Tiger, which in turn lighted hers to pilot the way for the Elizabeth. The darkness soon falls in those regions, and in a very few minutes, as it seemed, night enveloped them like a pall. There was no moon, and, the night being cloudy, no stars were visible; the blackness, consequently, was intense.

All that could be seen was the triangle of lights in the flag-ship, very dim in the distance, and those on the Tiger, shining somewhat more brightly because nearer at hand. The captain of the Elizabeth commanded that no lanterns should be lighted on board his ship, and indeed that no lights of any kind should be shown on board at all.

“For,” said he, “we sail somewhat faster than the Tiger and the Good Adventure, and can see their lights, so that we can tell where they are. But it is in my mind to have a little sport with good Mr Cavendish, by letting him find us alongside him at daybreak. We will, therefore, carry on as hard as our spars and gear will suffer us, all through the night; and, not to give the others an inkling of our purpose, will edge away to the westward sufficiently to enable us to pass the Tiger about a mile to starboard of her, and the same with the flag-ship.”

At this time it was about two bells in the first dog-watch, and they could therefore reckon on some ten hours of complete darkness—sufficient, as the captain believed and hoped, to allow them to overtake the other two ships of the squadron. They continued to crack on; and, as the skipper had enjoined the maintenance of strict silence, the ship seemed to those on board to resemble some dim phantom vessel, leaping ghost-like from wave to wave before the strengthening wind. No sound whatever was to be heard on board save the “swish” of the water alongside, the low roar of the bow-wave as she plunged through it and turned it aside from her bows, the weird crying of the wind through her maze of rigging aloft, and the occasional “cheep” of parral or block-sheave to the ’scend of the ship.

At about ten o’clock, much to the captain’s satisfaction, the lights at the stern of the Tiger could be much more distinctly seen; and he judged that she could at that time be only some four miles distant, showing that in the past three hours they had gained some three miles on her, which was good sailing. They were also, at this time, a good mile to the westward of the starboard quarter of the Tiger, and, if anything, edging a trifle more to starboard of her as they went along. The reason for this was that the captain did not wish to pass the Tiger at a less distance than a mile; because, although it certainly was a very dark night, on even the blackest of nights, if the weather be clear, there is always a certain “loom” or faint image of a ship thrown against the sky; and this loom would be visible to sharp eyes unless the Elizabeth kept some distance away from her consort.

Little by little they crept up, overtaking the Tiger; and bit by bit her triangle of lights at the stern was becoming merged into one; then the one light became gradually eclipsed, until at length they could not see it at all, and by one o’clock in the morning they knew that they must be running parallel with the Tiger and at a distance of about a mile and a half on her starboard beam.