Commander Cantrell in the West Indies(90)

“Meaning the Bahamas,” observed Gerritsz.

“Yes, and Eleuthera is the outermost of the islands, with good bays, but not much frequented by the Spanish.”

“Even the bastard buccaneers of Association Island don’t sail that far out, usually,” commented van Holst.

“No,” van Walbeeck agreed. “But do not expect that the English are going to Eleuthera to find food, so much as establish a gathering point for it.”

Van Holst frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Eleuthera is more pleasant than Bermuda, but still not a particularly good source of comestibles. The richer islands of the Bahamas are closer in to the continent. My guess is that the English—well, I suppose they are ‘Bermudans,’ now—plan on using Eleuthera as a staging area. Their ships will fan out into the better islands from there, and return there as well. Then a different set of ships will convey the foodstuffs they’ve gathered back to Bermuda.”

Simonszoon rose into a sitting position. “Very well. So we have been very lucky, and the English have the same problems we do. But that tells me nothing about why there are dry goods getting jammed into every open space on my ship’s orlop deck right now.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Tromp admitted, “but it was imperative that we all have the best current knowledge about what we know or suspect conditions to be in the Caribbean.”

“Why?”

“Because in the event that any of your ships must scatter away from each other to survive, you must be able to act independently and wisely to save your crews, your hulls, and hopefully, make it back here to St. Eustatia.”

The quiet in the cabin became absolute.

Van Holst nodded. “To where are we sailing, Maarten?”

Tromp removed the top chart. Beneath it was another, this one of the Windward Antilles and Trinidad. He pointed at the latter’s large, almost squarish mass. “There.” He paused. “At first.”

“What does that mean, ‘at first’?” Simonszoon almost whispered.

“It means I have annoyingly incomplete information.”

“Information that came in with Jakob Schooneman of the Koninck David, last night?”

“Yes. Here is what I know: a French ship was sighted by the Koninck David some thirty miles southeast of this anchorage, heading due south. Cautiously.”

“Cautiously? You mean it didn’t want to be seen by us?”

“Perhaps. But more pertinently, it did not want to be seen by the ship it was apparently trailing, and so remained at a distance that allowed it to stay beneath the horizon from its prey.”

Kees Evertsen frowned. “Admiral, it is rather difficult to shadow a ship once it is no longer visible. Hard to keep track of its course changes, I’m told.”

Grins sprung up at Kees’ profound understatement.

“That is true, Kees, but not if the following ship is flying an observation balloon.”

Again, absolute silence. Several of the captains seemed to be trying to remember what that word even meant.

Simonszoon stood up, sauntered over to the map. “A balloon? How high?”

“Several hundred feet, at least, Dirck. Yet, at even fifteen miles, it would be less than a dot in the sky. You’d need to be looking at just the right spot, with a fine spyglass, to spot it.”

Simonszoon nodded. “So even the tops of your masts could be well below the horizon and, with the balloon aloft, you could still keep your eyes on a ship ahead of you.”

“Precisely.”

“But why?” blurted van Holst loudly, “and how does Schooneman of the Koninck David know that both these ships are bound for Trinidad, which I presume must be why we are now going there?”

Tromp felt his teeth lock together. How indeed does Jakob Schooneman know what he knows? Indeed, his reports are not made up of facts but intimations, as if he either knows he is missing important pieces of the underlying story, or has been forbidden from revealing them. “Hjalmar, you do know that the Koninck David is the first ship from home to find us here, do you not?”

“Yes, which is why I rather expected that you were gathering us: to announce that we would once again have the help and succor of the United Provinces arriving in the coming months.”

“I wish that was the news that I have. And I suspect something like that may be forthcoming. But what you do not know is that when last the Koninck David was in these waters last year, mostly along the Spanish Main, she had an up-time passenger. One whose reports on the New World have apparently found interested ears back home.”

The captains leaned in closer, like hounds on the scent.

“Among other things, Captain Schooneman bore a letter from Prince Hendrik’s own chamberlain, indicating that the prince bade us listen carefully to the recommendations of the master of the Koninck David, who had been acquainted with His Highness’s interests and ambitions as they related to pending events in the New World.”