Amidships the crew of the jolly boat were about to cast off, towing the carriage of the 6-pounder and carrying the breeching, train tackle, handspikes, rammer and sponge in the boat. The gun itself was lying on the Juno's deck with slings round it, ready for hoisting out.
Ramage shouted down to the coxswain: 'Are you ready to go?'
'All ready, sir.'
Ramage called to Lacey, who hurried forward to get into the boat. 'I'm afraid the cutters aren't ready yet, sir.'
'I'll keep an eye on them. Now, you're perfectly clear what has to be done?'
'Aye, aye, sir: tow the carriage round to the cove. If we can float it into the cove and haul it ashore, do so; otherwise secure it so that it floats clear and come back for more men.'
Ramage nodded and Lacey scrambled down into the jolly boat.
Today's work towards the Diamond plan was easy; he could only pray that tomorrow - in fact for the next three days - the sea would stay as smooth, with no swell. He'd be quite content for today to get the 6-pounder mounted on that ledge, to cover the landing place.
A lookout aloft hailed that La Créole was coming into sight round the end of Diamond Hill, but had no signals flying. Ramage, noting that Wagstaffe had searched as far as Pointe des Salines without sighting anything, acknowledged the hail and moodily began pacing the quarterdeck, occasionally going aft and looking down at the men working in the cutters. They were doing perfectly well - Lacey, like most young officers, was too keen to let men work on their own.
Fifteen paces forward and he was abreast the skylight over his cabin, three more and he was passing the mizenmast. Three more and the wheel was abeam and the binnacle. Six more and he was passing the companionway, its coaming studded with roundshot which fitted like black oranges into cup-shaped holes cut in the wood. Now he was level with the capstan and the water cask with the Marine sentry guarding it. He had doubled the daily ration for the men while they were doing this heavy work: there was plenty to spare with the Surcouf’s casks available.
The deck was scorching hot, even though the awning was stretched overhead, and as he turned to walk aft he felt a momentary dizziness. He was tired and bored. Tired because there was so little time for sleep, and bored because he was the Captain, the man whose life comprised weeks of boredom, of just ensuring that the day-to-day ship routine was carried out properly, punctuated every few weeks (months, more likely) by a few hours of action. He reached the taffrail, glanced down at the cutters, and began to walk forward again.
Now was a good example of the boredom: Aitken was working hard on board the Surcouf getting the sails hoisted up and bent on; Baker was on his way to Barbados in La Mutine with all the excitement of his first command; Wagstaffe was tacking north again with La Créole for another look at Fort Royal. Southwick was busy on the foredeck, preparing everything for hoisting the jackstay tomorrow. Captain Ramage had nothing whatever to do and could only pace up and down, occasionally looking at the work in progress. Even the cook's mate was busy - skimming the slush, from the smell of it; boiling the salt beef in the coppers and taking off the fat that floated to the surface and carefully storing it. When it was cool he would sell it to the men, earning himself some illicit pennies or tots and giving the men something to help the hard biscuit slide down their gullets.
He could go down to his cabin and continue his letter to Gianna: he tried to add a few paragraphs every day so that she had a sort of diary to read when it eventually arrived many weeks later. Or he could start a letter to his father, who would be interested to read about the problems he was facing over the Diamond . . . But he felt too fidgety to sit at his desk and anyway the moment he saw the Captain sitting there, the clerk would come trotting in with papers and reports for him to sign, Being a conscientious man, he would also have a list of trivial reports that Ramage should have made, or chased his officers into making.
He had only just come back from the Surcouf and if he returned there now Aitken would start worrying. If he went up to the foredeck Southwick, his white hair matted with perspiration and his temper getting short, would think that Ramage considered his men were not working fast enough.
His next look over the taffrail showed that the two cutters were now secured together and he realized thankfully that he had a job to do. It was not a job for the Captain, but one that had to be done, and mercifully Lacey was over at the Diamond with the carriage in tow.
'Haul round to the starboard side,' he called to Jackson, who was acting as coxswain of the two boats. 'Secure your painter and sternfasts so you are directly under the main yard.'
Two luff tackles were already hooked into the yard tackle pendant and secured to the slings round the gun lying on the deck. They had been used earlier to lift the gun off the carriage which was now being towed to the cove.
A hail to Southwick brought twenty men hurrying aft to man the luff tackles while more ran to the braces. Ramage went to the entry port at the gangway and watched until the two boats were secured alongside. As soon as they were ready he turned to the men at the luff tackles.
'Hoist away, now. You four, tail on those steadying lines, we don't want the gun swinging.'
The men heaved steadily, and slowly the gun lifted off the deck, hanging horizontally from the carefully-placed slings. Finally it was higher than the hammock nettings and Ramage signalled them to stop hoisting.
Another signal to the men at the braces and a hurried warning to the men holding the steadying lines brought the main yard swinging round a few degrees, back to its normal position. This swung the gun out over the bulwarks until it was suspended above the boats.
The men with the steadying lines climbed up into the hammock nettings so they could see down into the boats, and Ramage gave the order for the men at the luff tackles to begin lowering. The gun came down foot by foot at first, and then inch by inch. As it neared the boat, Ramage gave the signal for them to stop lowering. Now he had to make sure that the men at the steadying lines kept the gun parallel with the boats while he gave the final order which would swing the yard round a fraction more, so that the gun was precisely over the gap between them.
Jackson gave Ramage a signal that all was well and slowly the gun was lowered again. The men in each boat held up their hands in case it began twisting, obviously not trusting the men at the steadying lines. Then the gun was in the water between the two boats, its muzzle and breech clear of the spars and a moment later disappearing below it.
Ramage shouted to the men at the luff tackles to stop lowering and saw that Jackson was fully prepared. Four men at the bow of the two boats leaned over to the forward sling and then signalled to Ramage, who told the men at the forward tackle to lower gently. Now the top of the forward sling was almost level with the spar joining the two boats and swiftly the four men put on a rolling hitch, using a short piece of heavy rope. Then they secured the other end to the centre of the spar.
While they had been doing that, four men had been securing the after sling to the after spar while Jackson cast off the steadying lines. Now the gun, six feet long, was slung between the two spars and hanging three or four feet below the water, but the weight was still being taken by the luff tackles.
'All secure?' Ramage shouted, and when Jackson answered that it was, he signalled to the men at the tackles to slack away. Slowly, as the weight of the gun was transferred through the slings to the boats, they sank deeper in the water. But it was an even settling; neither was down by bow or stern. The whole twelve hundredweight of gun - which now weighed less in water - was slung under the two boats, and two seamen with boathooks jabbed at the hooks of the tackles to release them from the slings.