Ramage and the Renegades

No surprises then, simply more details. Ramage turned to Southwick and, with a straight face said: 'Well, you take us to twenty degrees, twenty-nine minutes South, and twenty-nine degrees, twenty minutes West, and anchor as convenient.'

'Do I, by Jove,' Southwick said, his brow wrinkled as he worked out the position. 'Fernando de Noronha? No, too far south. It's about a thousand miles east of Rio de Janeiro, isn't it, sir? It'll be rather deep for anchoring...'

Aitken's eyes were shut as he searched his memory and looked at an imaginary chart. St Paul Rocks.. .no, they were north of Fernando de Noronha. Twenty south - that must be about the same as Rio de Janeiro - ah!' Abrolhos Rocks!' he said triumphantly; they were a hundred miles or so off the Brazilian coast.

Ramage shook his head.

'Martin Vaz island!' Southwick exclaimed. 'Although how we'll find it I don't know; enough people have looked.'

Again Ramage shook his head and told a crestfallen Southwick: 'You are close. Ilha da Trinidade, which is nearby.'

Southwick sniffed and Ramage recognized the sound as expressing the master's contempt. 'How big is it?'

Ramage shrugged his shoulders. 'Big enough to show on a chart; small enough, I suspect, to miss on a hazy day. I trust our chronometer is behaving itself.'

'It didn't like those couple of months in England any more than I did,' Southwick grumbled. 'My rheumatism was playing up, and so was the chronometer.'

'Might one ask why we . . .?' Aitken ventured, tactfully tapering off the sentence.

'No one can leave the ship before we arrive, so there's no reason why the pair of you don't read my orders,' Ramage said, sliding them across the desk to the first lieutenant.

Aitken was halfway down the first page when he said: 'We claim it? Who owns it now?'

'Let Southwick read it, then we can go over the questions together.'

Aitken finished the first page and then ticked off the items listed on the second page. He knew all about them, and his curiosity why one of the King's ships should be carrying bricks, plasterers' tools, spades, rakes and hoes, sacks of seed potatoes and grain as well as surveying equipment was now satisfied.

Southwick read, folded the orders and gave them back to Ramage. 'Whatever it is,' he said slowly, 'don't let's forget that the Ilha da Trinidade lies beyond the Doldrums ... At this time of the year we could take weeks to cross them.'

'The Spanish aren't very original about names, are they?' Aitken complained. 'There's the big island of Trinidad at the entrance to the Caribbean, a city in Cuba and I seem to remember seeing a reference to another island with that name off Bahia Blanca, three hundred miles or so south of Buenos Aires."

'There'll be more,' Southwick commented. 'It's like Santa Cruz. When in doubt the Dons call a place either Santa Cruz or Trinidad.'

'This one was named by the Portuguese,' Ramage said.

Southwick sniffed again. 'Not much difference, except the language. Maybe the Portuguese are better sailors.' He thought for a few moments and then amended his remark. 'They were, a couple of centuries ago, but not now. But if they named the island I presume they own it.'

'I've no idea what the legal position is except that Trinidade is not mentioned in Bonaparte's treaty. Nor are many other islands, I suppose, but Trinidade is the one that interests their Lordships. Anyway, we are to take possession and plant. The potatoes and grain will run wild, but they'll seed so that in an emergency a visiting ship will find something. If it looks a promising place it might even become a minor Ascension.'

'But anyone could seize it after we've gone, sir!' Southwick protested.

'Orders,' Ramage said. 'We obey them. I could think of worse. It's a cruise, really. But I imagine that if I return and report that Trinidade will make a good base, their Lordships - the government anyway - will send a garrison. If the batteries are built by us. a passing John Company ship on her way to India could land the guns and gunners and a battalion of infantry.'

Aitken asked, 'Do the government think of this island as a place for the Honourable East India Company ships to call for water in an emergency?'

'I don't really know,' Ramage admitted. 'It's rather far to the west for ships bound to and from the Cape of Good Hope and India. More likely their Lordships have in mind a wooding-and-watering island which a British squadron covering the South American coast could use. Somewhere they can refit, get fresh vegetables, land any sick . . . Seven hundred and fifty miles southwest to Rio, six hundred and fifty miles northwest to Bahia, and just over fifteen hundred to the mouth of the Plate.'

'And two thousand across to the West African coast,' Southwick said. 'This place begins to sound interesting. But why has no one garrisoned it before? After all, it sits astride the South Atlantic like a jockey on a nag.'

'Well, the Spanish and Portuguese don't need it because they share all the ports from one end of South America to the other,' Ramage pointed out. 'The French are really only concerned with the West Indies and India, and anyway the Dons are their allies so they can always use places like Rio - even though it is Portuguese - and the Plate for provisioning and watering. Only Britain needs bases to attack South America and cover the route to the Cape and India.'

'How big is it? How high, rather?' Southwick asked.

'No one was very sure at the Admiralty, but as far as I could discover it's roughly a couple of miles long in a northwest, southeast direction, a mile wide and with hills in the middle a thousand feet high.'

'A thousand feet, sir? We can rely on that?'

'We can't rely on anything. Mr Dalrymple at the Hydrographic Office admitted he knew nothing much about it - he just warned me not to hit Martin Vaz, which is either a tiny island or a reef of rocks a day's sailing from it.'

'Once we're through the Doldrums, we'll get a lift to the westward from the current,' Southwick commented. 'But just think of it, once we make a landfall we go on shore to plant potatoes ... I hate gardening,' he admitted, 'but it'll make a change to carry a spade and not a sword!'

The Doldrums had been empty days when the Calypso sat dead on the water, the heat haze merging sea, horizon and sky into what seemed to Wilkins a pool of molten copper. It was a time when he wanted to paint, wanted to capture on canvas the sense of the empty vastness of the ocean when there was no wind, where the sails were furled on the yards because there was no point in leaving them chafing against masts and rigging with every movement of the ship. Some days there was a slight swell, and Captain Ramage said it was caused by some distant storm, probably several thousands of miles away. He wanted to put it on canvas, but the sun was too hot. Even under the awning stretched across the quarterdeck it was an oven which sapped everyone's energy. Tempers were fraying and the sentry on the scuttlebutt watched closely as a man dropped in the dipper and took a drink.

The sheer stark simplicity of the life fascinated Wilkins. The intense heat, the lack of wind, and the fact that the Calypso was taking twice as long as expected to get through the Doldrums meant the men were twice as thirsty but had only half the water. It was interesting that the men had a basic ration, but in addition some extra was put into a butt each day and this was left by the mainmast with a Marine sentry guarding it.

And there was a dipper, a cylindrical, open-topped container, the diameter of a broom handle and about four inches long. There was a hole on each side of the top through which the line threaded, and a man was allowed to drop the dipper down through the bunghole and draw out as much water as it would hold. But because when there was a water shortage the butt was stowed on its side with chocks, the dipper usually tilted before it could fill completely. And the Marine sentry made sure that it was 'one man, one dip'.