'Is it new smoke, or something that's been burning for some time?'
Aitken looked crestfallen. 'I forgot to ask, sir.'
He stepped back a few paces and put the speaking trumpet to his mouth, bellowing: 'Aloft, there I'
'Mainmast lookout, sir.'
That smoke - is it a new fire just started or have you only just seen it?'
' 'Snew, sir: increasing now, like houses catching fire. White and black smoke.'
Ramage looked across at the land. The arid flatness of the eastern end of the island was beginning to merge into rolling nils getting higher and higher as they approached the big peak of Suit Christoffelberg, ever - increasing waves suddenly turned 10 stone as they lapped the base of a pinnacle.
He saw a Seek of smoke a moment before Southwick and Aitken pointed and exclaimed. Smoke was common enough among the Caribbean islands: most of them spent more than half the year tinder - dry; the sun's rays concentrated by a broken bottle, a hunter's carelessness with a campfire, the sparks from a charcoal burner's crude furnace - all could, and frequently did, set a hillside ablaze in a fire that only died when the wind dropped at night, or mercifully backed or veered a few points to drive the flames back on themselves. But smoke and the sound of musket shots: that was a very different matter, and he was certain he could hear some distant popping, and Aitken now had the speaking trumpet to his ear, using it intently so that the young first lieutenant looked like a deaf seafarer straining to hear a mermaid singing a siren song from beneath a palm tree on the beach.
The brisk Trade wind was dispersing the smoke; instead of billowing clouds it was more of a haze by the time Ramage could see it from his low vantage point on the quarterdeck and Southwick lumbered over to crouch over the azimuth compass to take bearings. The entrance to Amsterdam, still in sight astern, the peak of Sint Christoffelberg, the next headland to the west, and the smoke. By plotting the first three he would be able to establish the ship's exact position; then drawing in the bearing of the smoke, he would be able to tell Ramage approximately where the fire was burning.
He hurried below with the slate on which he had noted the bearings and was back again within four or five minutes to tell Ramage: "The smoke is coming from somewhere about half - way between the villages of Soto and a place called Sint Willebrordus. About eleven miles west of Amsterdam. Can it be cane fields burning?'
There's no sugar cane on this island. And cane doesn't burn with a popping like muskets. It can only be houses.'
'Deck there! Foremasthead lookout!'
Startled, Ramage, Aitken and Southwick looked forward. The voice, almost disembodied, sounded excited, and Aitken answered: 'Deck here.'
'Sail on the larboard bow, sir, and I think I can see land beyond it. Might be a cloud but the bearing stays the same.'
'What type of ship?'
'Can't tell, sir; she's still hull down below the horizon, but I think she's steering towards us.'
Aitken looked round for Jackson, handed him the telescope and pointed aloft. Without a word the American made for the shrouds and began climbing the foremast Ramage said: 'It can't be land, but he may have seen a cloud hanging over Aruba.'
"What ship is it?' Southwick muttered to himself. 'Probably a cutter from Jamaica with fresh orders from the Admiral. Convoy work, more than likely . ..'
'Beat to quarters,' Ramage told Aitken.
Jackson hailed the deck the moment the drummer stopped beating the ruffles.
'Her hull is only just lifting above the horizon but from the cut of her sails she's a merchant ship. Could be American, sir.'
'Make a signal to Lacey,' Ramage said. 'His lookouts are By the time the signal flags had been hoisted, acknowledged by La Creole and lowered again, Jackson was reporting from the foremasthead that the ship had just tacked, and was obviously bound for Curacao. Aitken had just reported that the Calypso was at quarters when Jackson hailed once more to report that the strange sail was a merchant ship and almost certainly American.
American, and therefore wary of one of the King's ships, because a meeting at sea usually resulted in being boarded and having a Royal Navy officer checking through the ship's company for British subjects, who would be pressed immediately. Ramage pictured the American master groaning at the prospect of losing at least a couple of good seamen from a total of perhaps a dozen. On the other hand, masters of neutral ships were often good sources of information: they visited enemy ports, saw ships of war, and, because they were not taken as prizes, could talk about it afterwards. And the best way of making a master talk was to catch him in the moments of relief after he discovered that none of his men was going to be pressed ... '
The Calypso and the merchant ship were approaching each other fast; within minutes Ramage could see the American's hull above the horizon. Have the guns run out,' he said to Aitken, 'we want to look fierce. Then come below. I have more orders for you.'
Down in his cabin he explained his intentions. The master of that Jonathan is going to curse as soon as he sees the British flag - hell have identified us as a French - built frigate, and to him there'd be nothing out of the ordinary in a French frigate beading west after apparently sailing from Amsterdam. Then suddenly hell realize his mistake.
'So you'll board him and examine his papers. He could have sailed from a port on the Main, Aruba or direct from somewhere in North America. If he has just left an enemy port, I want to know what ships he saw there and what ships he's seen at sea, especially privateers. Dates, positions, courses being steered . . .'
Aitken looked worried. These Jonathans usually don't care to help us much, sir,' he said cautiously.
'No,' Ramage agreed, 'because they've usually just had some of their prize seamen claimed as British and sent down into the boat. But you will make it clear that, providing he co-operates, you will not even ask to see the muster book ...'
'And hell be so relieved . . .'
'Exactly,' Ramage said, 'but of course, if he is truculent, you know what to do.'
Aitken nodded. 'I hope I find a few Scotsmen; we're outnumbered in the Calypso, sir.'
'I want quality, not quantity, Mr Aitken,' Ramage said ambiguously, laughing dryly.
'Aye, sir. I've heard say that the Admiralty tell commanders - in - chief that when they ask for more frigates.'
'I'm sure they do,' Ramage said, 'that's why we make sure of having enough by going out and capturing our own.'
The young Scot gave one of his rare laughs. 'I've never thought of it like that, sir; I wonder how often a frigate and a schooner go out on patrol together manned by the people that captured them?'
'In a year or two we'll have our own fleet. Well charter it to Their Lordships on a share-of-the-prizes basis!'
An hour later Ramage and Southwick waited at the quarterdeck rail. The Calypso was hove - to half a mile to windward of the American ship, which was lying with her sails furled, broadside on to the swell waves and rolling violently. Clearly her master did not trust her spars, rigging and sails enough to risk heaving - to. Shipowners often insisted that once in the Tropics/ their master used old sails as an economy. It was not an economy, of course, because tropical squalls were more sudden and vicious than people living in temperate climates realized; but most shipowners were men who cheerfully spent a guinea to save four pennies and congratulated themselves on the bargain.
The Caroline of Charleston, South Carolina. The moment he had seen the port of registry he had ordered Jackson to join the boarding party, warning Aitken to tell the American seaman what they were trying to discover, and explaining to the puzzled first lieutenant that Jackson had been born in Charleston.
The Caroline from South Carolina: it sounded like the beginning of some lullaby. If she was bound for Amsterdam (there could be little doubt about that) could he use her in some way, a Trojan horse that would get him among those damned privateers?