CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sky to the eastward was gradually turning pink beyond the mountains of Martinique early next morning as the Juno's capstan slowly revolved with Bevins, the fiddler, standing on top and scratching out a tune to encourage the men straining at the capstan bars.
Ramage stood at the quarterdeck rail, affecting a nonchalant stance to disguise the tension gripping him. The Juno was about to set out on her shortest voyage, less than half a mile, and he was as nervous as a kitten hearing its first dog bark. The ten-inch cable used to tow the Surcouf was now amidships, the first hundred fathoms of it flaked down and ready to run, only this time it would be running upwards.
The launch was towing astern with an anchor slung ready beneath it; another cable was flaked out on the quarterdeck ready to bend on to it. The two cutters were also astern, ready to tow the frigate to its final position, and the topmen were waiting ready for the order to go aloft. The jolly boat would be at the cove by now, and Aitken and his men should have started their long climb to the top of the Rock. The young Scot had been confident that he had found a route merely by examining the Rock through the telescope. Ramage, although doubtful, had not argued with him and he went off cheerfully before dawn, his men carrying rope ladders, axes, heavy mauls borrowed from the carpenter, sharpened stakes, speaking trumpet, and several coils of rope.
The Surcouf was lying head to wind, all her sails neatly furled on her yards, and only a dozen men on board. The First Lieutenant had worked well into the night to have the ship ready, returning to the Juno to report to Ramage at midnight, so exhausted that he was swaying as he spoke. Ramage had sent him off to snatch some sleep, telling him that it would take the Juno two or three hours to get into position so that he could sleep on, but Aitken had left orders that he was to be called at dawn.
Wagstaffe had tacked in towards the Rock with the Créole and was now stretching north again, and Ramage thought for a moment of La Mutine. She should have arrived in Barbados yesterday, and with luck she was now on her way back. By tonight or at the latest tomorrow morning he could expect Admiral Davis to arrive in the Invincible. There was barely time to get half the job done.
Slowly the frigate weighed as the sequence of reports and orders passed to and fro between the fo'c'sle and quarterdeck. The yards were already braced sharp up and the jibs were being hoisted but left to flap in the wind.
'Short stay!' came a shout from the fo'c'sle, warning Ramage that the anchor cable was making the same angle as the forestay. He put the speaking trumpet to his lips.
'Away aloft!'
The topmen swarmed up the rigging and his orders followed in quick succession. While men sheeted home the headsails he shouted aloft to the topmen: 'Trice up and lay out!' As soon as the men were out on the yards with the studding sail booms triced up out of the way he ordered the men on deck: 'Man the topsail sheets!' A moment later the topmen were being told to 'Let fall!' and as the sails tumbled down he gave a fresh order to the men on deck: 'Sheet home!'
By now the anchor was off the bottom and the Juno was gathering way. It would be two or three minutes before the anchor broke surface and only a few minutes more before the frigate would be anchoring again. He glanced up at the wind vane at the maintruck and then to the eastward, where the sun was just lifting over the mountains. So far, so good; at least the French convoy had not chosen this moment to round Pointe des Salines.
Fifteen minutes later the Juno had rounded up off the south side of the Rock and dropped anchor again, gathering sternway under a backed foretopsail, so that the cable thundered out through the starboard hawse, smoking with the friction.
As soon as Southwick signalled from the fo'c'sle how much cable had been veered, Ramage gave another series of orders which braced round the yards so that the Juno gathered way again and sailed a short distance before the foretopsail was backed once more and the larboard anchor let go as the Juno went astern in yet another sternboard. Within minutes the topmen were furling all the sails and the frigate was riding to her two anchors, the cables making an angle of forty-five degrees.
The Juno was now lying not quite parallel with the face of the cliff fifty yards away. The two cutters were going to have to pull her stern round towards the cliff while the launch was rowed astern to lay out the spare anchor that would hold her there in position. It was the lightest anchor in the ship and one which, in an emergency could be slipped and left behind.
Southwick came striding aft to join Ramage on the quarterdeck, and he wore the contented grin that Ramage knew from long experience meant that he approved of the way his Captain had handled the ship. 'Now to get those cutters towing,' he said gleefully, rubbing his hands. He looked up and commented: 'Y'know, sir, that's a damned tall cliff!'
‘I wish you'd mentioned that before,' Ramage said sarcastically. ‘It had almost escaped my attention.'
'Can't see Aitken up there yet.'
'Remember Pythagoras,' Ramags said. 'You're looking up the perpendicular side of what that poor beggar is scrambling up the hypotenuse!'
'They're used to it, these Scotsmen,' Southwick said, blithely ignoring Ramage's bad temper. 'All mountains in Scotland - goats and sheep and haggises, climbing all the time, they are. Especially the haggises,' he added before Ramage could correct him, 'very nimble they are, Aitken tells me.'
Ramage shook his head despairingly. 'Neither the Good Lord nor the First Lord has seen fit to spare me from a Master who is so damnably cheerful first thing in the morning. However, Mr Southwick, oblige me by putting those cutters to work: I have to lay this ship alongside that cliff before I can settle down to a leisurely breakfast.'
As soon as the men in the two cutters began rowing with the oars double-banked, Ramage ordered the quartermaster to put the wheel over; there might be enough current to give the ship a sheer larboard, which would help the oarsmen. Sure enough the frigate slowly swung in towards the cliff face, and the coxswains of both boats hurried their men to take up the slack.
Now it was the turn of the men in the waiting launch. The anchor was slung beneath the boat and the cable on the quarterdeck led down to it through the sternchase port. The oars were double-banked and the coxswain waited ready. Ramage gave the signal and the launch began to move away, heading almost directly astern of the Juno. Men on the quarterdeck slowly fed the cable through the port, careful to let out enough to help the launch, but not so much that the heavy rope hung down in too large a curve.
Southwick now had men bracing the yards round so they were as nearly fore and aft as possible. The Juno was going to end up so close to the cliff that the larboard ends of the yards - the mainyard overhung the ship's side by twenty-three feet - might otherwise foul the Rock.
Having done that the Master began supervising the rigging out of the lower studding sail booms on the larboard side. There were three of them, one abreast each mast, and they were shipped and then swung out at right angles from the ship's side at deck level, the outer ends held by topping lifts, with guys holding them fore and aft. Normally used to hold out the foot of the lower studding sails, they would now, Ramage hoped, act against the cliff face when they began hoisting the jackstay.
The launch was almost in position astern and Ramage waited with the speaking trumpet in his hand. If only he could see right down into the water he would know whether the anchor fell so that the cable led over a bank of sharp coral. If he waited another two or three minutes the launch might have moved slightly crabwise so that the cable would miss it. He shrugged his shoulders and hailed through the trumpet. He saw men slashing the strop holding the anchor and a few moments later the boat began bobbing about, floating higher as if it was suddenly freed of the weight of the anchor and the pull of cable, more of which snaked out through the port.