King of the Sea

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Frank's sense of elation persisted. He was in paradise. He forgot the cargo, the crew - even Teresa. They were all going to die, passengers, the himself among them. By no stretch of the imagination could this slender vessel, built for speed, be brought over reefs like that, in such mountainous seas, to the unknown shore beyond. And yet he would do it! He would cheat Death. He would bring them all through to safety. This was no mere hope, elevated to a certainty; it was certainty itself, elevated as much again, to something beyond even the most powerful conviction.

There on his own deck he was the centre of the universe. He surveyed it and saw it was good.

Three sails were now set on the foremast - the split fore course and the lower half of the split main. Since the wind was ahead of the yard they were all braced back and pressing tight to the mast, billowing out in a graceful curve to each side. The mast groaned and screamed in protest, for, in the ordinary way of things, the entire vessel should be carrying no canvas at all in such a gale, apart from a single storm sail at the mizzen.

"Think she'll take any more, Cap'n?" Boris asked dubiously.

Troy laughed again. "Set the same three sails on the mainmast," he roared. "We'll show these Yankee farmers! We'll plough a furrow from here to Chicago, if we can!"

The leadsman, who had raced aft the moment he saw what way they were taking her in, now sang out his soundings as fast as he made them: "By the deep, fifteen! ... By the deep, twelve! ..." But all Troy listened for was those first three words: By the deep. At seven fathoms, where the strip of red bunting tied to the line first showed above water, the call would change to, By the mark...! and they would be in danger, for the chart showed the channel between the rocks (if it were, indeed, the chart for this coast at all) to be nowhere less than eight fathoms deep. "By the deep, nine! And sand!"

Sand? Troy started at the news. That didn't square with the chart, which showed bare rock all the way in to two hundred yards from high-water. Boris, thinking along the same lines, shouted,

"This storm could bring sand from anywhere, Cap'n." Even down from the beach! Troy thought, but he kept it to himself.

"By the deep, eight! And sand!" Troy returned to the bridge and picked up his megaphone. "Mr Mate!" He shouted aft. "Dowse all flame between decks. Muster the second-class passengers below all the second-class and brace them against an after bulkhead." He repeated the instruction to the sailor on watch by the steerage companionway up forr'ard. seven! And sand!"

"By the mark, Troy turned and stared at the gap between the two lines of breakers, which was now only a couple of lengths ahead. Phoenix seemed to be facing square on to it, and bang to the centreline. There was nothing for it but to pray. As if to emphasize the thought the main topsail filled at that moment and the sudden extra thrust pitched her down at the stern, threatening to drown the poor leadsman and certainly making his next sounding pointless. He swung his lead again. "By the deep, eight!" he cried - adding, when he had the lead back aboard, "And hard!"

But matters were now too perilous for anyone to feel much relief. Phoenix was now less than half a length from the gap. Huge ocean rollers were rearing and breaking on either side, dwarfing her as they reared and mocking her graceful fragility as they fell in a tumultuous thunder and, like horses at the flag, set off on their suicidal gallop toward extinction on the distant shore. The channel of relative calm between them which was no calm at all, save by comparison with that churning white frenzy on either hand was precariously narrow. She was now making fifteen knots on a following

sea. This effectively veered the wind a point or two behind her, especially when a great bank of swell got under her and pushed her hard toward land. The opposite was the case when the swell overtook them, leaving them wallowing down its backward face. It was imposible to trim sail quick enough to meet these huge but fleeting changes in the wind's apparent direction and intensity. The sail set to take advantage of a fierce blast from almost dead behind could, when the strength and quarter apparently changed, throw out her helm and set her straight for the rocks. Only superhuman efforts by the quartermaster were keeping her out of such peril.

"By the mark, seven!" the leadsman called. Frank held his breath until the next cry came: "And sand!" It was not worth the risk, he decided. Better shed a couple of knots and hold her line better. "Take in all

foresails!" he bellowed. "Brace up all main yards."

"And a half, six!"

The die was cast now. It didn't really matter what the leadsman called, they had no choice but to run aground as high up the beach as possible.

"And sand!"

"Leadsman! Clear the deck!" he boomed.

Her masts were bound to snap when she struck. He wanted the decks as clear as possible by then. "All hands forr'ard!" he added.

Like slipped greyhounds they ran, needing no second bidding. A moment later only the bosun's body was left, lying where it had fallen among the ropes on the poop deck.

And a moment after that a little knot of second class passengers emerged on deck and peered about, blinking in what, to them, was a too-bright day. "Get below you dogs!" Troy thundered at them.

Grapeshot could not have cleared the decks quicker.

"I'll shoot the next man who shows his face," Troy added as they almost fell over each other to get back down the companionway. The quartermaster chuckled, despite the seriousness

of the moment. "Jump when she runs aground, Mr Rogers," Troy warned him.

"I'll stay with her to the last, sir," the man replied. "And as for the masts, they're as likely to fall overboard as on deck. There's no place more venturesome than any other. You go up forr' ard with the rest, sir. No point both of us risking it."

Frank ignored the offer. "Ever run a ship aground before?" he asked.

"That I did, Cap'n. Twice. But never astern. I put the Enterprise ashore in the Scillies. She lost a hatch, carrying grain from Azoff. And I ran the Laura, a steam collier from Cardiff, ashore off Singapore."

"Oh, I remember her, the Laura. She took years to break up, didn't she. Often used to pass her. So that was your handiwork, eh!"

Both men stared ahead which was really astern. Both found it hard to believe they were engaging in such a trivial and mundane conversation at a time like this.

"I was only practising for this one, Cap'n." Rogers laughed.

He laughed! Troy understood then that he was not alone in this universe of his; it held other immortals, too.

came the shore, they could even make out the different high-water marks of jetsam and seaweed, threading along the strand like half a dozen incompetent stabs at making a line. It seemed impossible Phoenix could still be drawing water beneath her keel. Yet on they sailed.

The swell in the narrow channel began to rear and break, its boiling foam at last uniting the galloping white walls on either side. Surely now it was only a matter of moments?

At that very instant, to his horror, Frank saw the door to the other second-class companionway open to frame a bewildered Miss O'Dee.