Back on deck, the Captain came to Tanner. After pleasantries and a status of the ship in general, the Captain said, “With your approval, we’re sailing around the other islands at a distance they won’t see us. We’ll arrive near dawn, so it’s not going to slow us.”
“You’re angry.”
“The seas should be free. What Breslau is doing isn’t right. Now they’re controlling the only place to resupply. I’m sure other ships have given up.”
“There’s more to your anger,” Tanner prompted.
“I’m a sailor. I want to sail to strange places and see what they have to offer. Breslau is shrinking my world. I don’t like it.”
Tanner watched the smudge on the horizon that was Marlstone. He said, “I think I understand. When we get to Breslau are you certain The Rose can outrun any of their ships?”
“Any I’ve heard of, but they may have built some I don’t know. My worry is that while you two are ashore doing whatever you plan to do, two or more ships may blockade me.”
“Are there options?”
“Yes. We could put you in a dingy to row ashore while The Rose sails to deep water where nobody can see her.”
“How would you know to come get us?”
“That’s a problem I’ve yet to work out.”
They left it at that. The following morning the ship slowly sailed into the mouth of a bay and lowered most of her sails. The ship rotated enough for the bow to point at the mouth of the bay, ready to escape. The men stood by the sails.
Nobody attacked.
The island was lush. A single mountain rose before them, the slope falling down the side almost to the water. Only a thin strip of beach allowed people to build and farm. The green of the foliage was darker green than Tanner had ever seen, and the water bluer. Palms and bananas dominated the lower slopes.
A large rowboat with two men, each pulling a pair of oars put out from the village approached at a stately pace as if they couldn’t be bothered rowing any faster. As it neared, a man sitting in the bow wearing a colorful red shirt called out and asked for permission to board.
He climbed a ladder lowered over the side of the ship and climbed aboard with a smile and a tip of his straw hat. The others stayed in the rowboat. He was dark-skinned, tall, and thin. His teeth were the whitest Tanner had ever seen, and perhaps the biggest. He shook hands all around and welcomed them. In a few sentences, he offered to replenish their water and provide fruits, vegetables, salted meats, and fish.
He drove a hard bargain, speaking for the people of the entire island. They didn’t get many visitors and seldom had the opportunity to sell their goods for hard coin. The price was set high but not outrageous. Tanner would have paid far more, but the first rule of successful negotiations is to make the other party think they won. The ship dropped anchor where instructed and the man returned to his boat and rowed ashore to arrange the food.
Captain Jamison lowered two of his boats, and each carried empty water barrels. They rowed for the creek and up it far enough to fill the barrels with fresh water. In no time, five more boats rowed in their direction, one containing the spokesman, who again came aboard to inspect the supplies with the Captain.
A boom with a pulley swung out over the rowboats and sailors lifted loads of food, fresh, smoked, and dried. The Captain inspected it all and accepted it without exception. It was far superior to that normally found on ships.
The ship’s boats returned, and the barrels of water were hoisted aboard. Then they went back for more water. The Captain had told the men to empty any barrels that could hold water because where they were headed had little.
Tanner watched as cases of dried, salted fish were brought aboard. Smoked meats that were goats, pigs, and sheep were stored. Other wicker containers held figs, raisins, almonds, and more. A few new to him. Then there were fresh and dried beans, peas, and yams.
It seemed to Tanner that they took on far more than they required. All had been brought aboard, but more small boats laden with food were heading their way. The Captain noticed Tanner’s concern and whispered, “If you’ve ever been on a ship that’s run out of stores you’d understand.”
Tanner didn’t resent the quantity, nor did he resist the rising price. He simply hadn’t ever calculated how much food eighteen men eat in thirty, or more days. But the water barrels also kept arriving. He raised an eyebrow to the Captain over them.
“Walk with me,” the Captain said, as he moved their conversation away from other ears. “Breslau is dry. A desert on a coast with mountains barely a day’s walk inland. To my knowledge, there is only two rivers, that large one south of the Bay and a small one at Breslau City. I have no idea where we might collect more water, so I’ve ordered every barrel we can spare to be filled.”
“I wasn’t questioning your decision.”
Captain Jamison placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “I know that, or you’d be swimming by now.”
Tanner laughed.
Captain Jamison didn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Rose sailed again in the late afternoon, promising to return to the island in a month. The village would have more supplies ready and waiting. Tanner had paid more than expected but the price had barely put a dent in his purse. As a precaution against those in Marlstone City following the ship, they sailed due south until out of sight, then turned east towards Breslau.
The voyage across the Endless Sea would take fifteen days, maybe more. Tanner and Carrion asked the Captain for time to be set aside where they could plan where they should arrive in Breslau, and how to best proceed. He suggested they meet in his cabin after sunset. The air would be cooler, and they could open his window for a breeze and talk all night if needed.
The Captain had his secret chart to study in the cabin. It sounded agreeable to all.
Tanner strolled the deck as if he’d been born to the sea. He often spotted Devlin at work, but seldom spoke to him, fearing a personal relationship with the owners might place him in awkward positions or alienate him from the rest of the crew.
On the other hand, first-mate Fisher often paused to talk. In his short time as the mate, the ship improved daily. The decks were scrubbed with saltwater, and the six gods would tremble in fear when he found sloppiness or dirt. Part of each day was spent scraping any bare wood and painting it. He often told the crew that if it didn’t move, put a coat of paint on it. Since leaving port in Racine, the ship had taken on a new image.
So had the crew. Pride was the word he’d use to describe them. At first, many were simply accepting job offers and going about their duties mindlessly. Now, in only a few short days, a sense of pride permeated throughout the ship. It revealed itself in a hundred small ways. Once a crewman had told another to repair a section of a wall and cautioned him to do better work in the future. Others painted with a smile. If it didn’t move, they painted it, just as he said.
The Captain removed the chart from the cabinet and spread it across his desk. He reached into another cabinet and pulled an unopened bottle of hard cider. Tanner eyed it tentatively, but the Captain caught his look. He said, “A stout pull for each of us for a job well done. I’ve ordered the same for the crew tonight.”
He splashed cider into the bottom third of three mugs and tasted it while averting his eyes.
Tanner understood the reason for the small celebration. But sitting across from him was little remaining of the drunken derelict they had first met. He didn’t think the Captain had taken a drink since sailing. The bottle had still been full. He’d keep a watch, and the Captain knew it.