‘And it’s here you’ll fin’ the sea grampus – an’ the baskin’ shark, o’ course. As big as y’ longboat, he is, but as harmless as a sucking shrimp—’
‘Mr Hambly,’ Bampton cut in sharply from behind. ‘Be so kind as to attend your duties – we’re but a league from St Anthony’s.’
‘Aye aye, sir,’ Hambly said calmly, and crossed to the binnacle in front of the wheel. He picked up the traverse board and deliberately matched the march of its pegs with the scrawled chalk of the slate log, then looked up at the impassive quartermaster. ‘Very good, son,’ he said, and resumed his vigil forward.
An occluding head of land opened to an indentation and the smaller sail accompanying them began to converge on the same place. ‘St Anthony’s,’ Hambly murmured, as the headland, fringed with white, pulled back to reveal an opening in the lowering coastline no more than a mile wide. On the western side was the stark, squat, greyish-white of a broad castle turret. ‘Pendennis, an’ Falmouth lies beyond.’
He turned to the officer-of-the-watch. ‘Tops’ls will suffice, sir.’
By this time the captain had appeared on deck, but he made no attempt to relieve the officer-of-the-watch.
‘Bo’sun, all hands on deck, pipe hands to shorten sail.’ Kydd wondered at Bampton’s order: to his eyes there was no urgency – the watch on deck were quite capable of taking in the courses one by one.
The calls pealed out and men tumbled up from below to take in the big lower sails. ‘Keep the men on deck, if you please,’ Bampton ordered.
‘You’ll beware Black Rock,’ Hambly warned Bampton. ‘A pile o’ broken rocks squatting athwart th’ entrance, right in our course.’ He pointed to a flurry of white around a mound of black right in the centre of the harbour entrance.
‘Which side, Mr Hambly?’ Bampton asked.
‘The eastern, sir, deepest channel.’
‘A point to starboard,’ snapped Bampton. The quartermaster spoke quietly to the helmsman, who set the bowsprit pointing off to starboard of the gloomy black whaleback.
‘Not as you’d say difficult,’ Hambly said. ‘You sees Black Rock at half-tide, and on th’ overflow you c’n be sure there’s three fathom over the bar within.’
A coastal brig, sailing at the same rate, converged on the eastern passage with Tenacious. Both vessels were before the wind; they drew closer. The smaller vessel seemed to ignore their presence.
The captain snatched up the speaking trumpet from its bracket. ‘The brig ahoy, sheer off. Bear away, this instant!’ A ship-of-the-line was far too ponderous to play games.
‘He means to head us through,’ Houghton exclaimed in disbelief. ‘You villains! Bear off! You must give way to a King’s ship, damn you!’
Houghton stalked forward, eyeing the menace of Black Rock ahead. ‘Give him a gun, forrard!’ he roared. A six-pounder on the fo’c’sle banged out. The gunsmoke was borne away in a body through the entrance, but the brig paid no heed, her main yard dipping and swaying closer and closer to their own lower rigging. ‘We take the eastern channel, let that villain choose the west,’ Houghton snapped. The brig’s shallower draught would allow him the passage.
‘Aye aye, sir. Lay Black Rock close to larb’d, and hold your course,’ Bampton acknowledged.
Just two hundred yards from Black Rock the brig diverged to the other side of the danger. The seaweed-covered rocks were now in close detail. All eyes followed the rogue vessel still under full sail plunging past the hazard.
‘Sir!’ the helmsman called urgently. Unable to release the wheel he indicated vigorously with his head. With all attention on the brig they had not noticed two fishing smacks close-hauled under fore and aft sail, crossing their bows to leave harbour. They shot into view from behind St Anthony’s Head to starboard. Seeing the brig they changed their minds and tried to go about, floundering in stays dead ahead.
Bampton’s mouth opened – but closed again. The channel was only a few hundred yards wide, with Black Rock to one side and the high headland of St Anthony to the other. It didn’t take much imagination to see that, running downwind as they were, backing or dousing sail to stop their way was impossible – even if this was achieved Tenacious would probably slew helplessly round to cast up on shore. The smacks were doomed.
‘Helm a-larb’d,’ Hambly calmly told the man at the wheel. ‘Keep with th’ land a cable or so.’
‘No . . .’ Bampton hesitated. He could not utter the words of contradiction that would firmly sheet home to him responsibility for the next few minutes.