Zeelandia Port Royal

24. The Chase

When Charles descended, I rose to greet him, and as we hugged, I asked, "Are they gaining upon us?"

"A small amount as we altered, but we appear to be about the same speed. They remained just dipped over the horizon all the way south, but now they are near fully above it, about six miles distance."

"Oh!" I pointed toward the windows. "I see them as still a fair bit dipped."

"That is from the difference with height-of-eye. Up top, the horizon is just short of six miles; here, it is a mile less."

"Yes, of course, I should have thought. So, how long can we maintain this course?"

"At this speed, a little under two days, until the forenoon of Sunday. Come, I must plot it." He took my hand, led me to the chart table, selected a chart and laid it out. "We are sailing as if headed for Maracaibo."

He ruled a line on the chart, spanning from Jamaica across the North Sea. "About five hundred miles southeast to see how serious they are."

"So, two nights to hope to lose them."

"Yes, this was my thought."

"And if there are no clouds?"

"Tack northward toward Hispaniola." He ran a finger across the chart. "This will give us another night."

I looked at the angle and winced. "That would allow them to gain another mile or more."

"Indeed, but still well beyond gun range. They need to close to within half a mile to offer any threat, and at that, their chances are very slight. Five hundred yards to have a better chance at hitting us, two hundred yards to have any hope of causing serious damage."

"Oh! So close."

"You saw how close we were the previous times."

"I thought that was only by circumstance."

"More by design." Charles drew his finger across the chart again. "Tacking downwind along the Hispaniola coast from here will take us back toward Port Royal."

"And safety."

"Or to our destination, Isla Beata. By this point, we might have lost them in the dark; we will have had four nights."

"And if we have not?"

"If they persist in their chase that long. They may well admit defeat and head off to find an easier target."

"Having wasted both their time and ours."

"Theirs will have been wasted, but ours will not. With the winds as they are, to reach Isla Beata, we need to tack our way eastward, and two long ones are as effective in accomplishing this as are many shorter ones. They also make reckoning our position easier and more accurate."

I chuckled. "Oh, my! Such a delightful turn." I breathed a deep sigh. "And such a relief."

"But we cannot relax." Charles pointed aft. "They will take advantage of any easing. At this speed, it takes not quite half an hour to close the six miles, so torn sails and parted lines must be hastily replaced. Every care must be taken that we make no error."

"And the crew? How do they respond to this?"

"They are inspired by the challenge."

I nodded and reached up to stroke his beard. "More inspired by the manner in which you presented it, I would think."

Charles shrugged, then he opened a drawer and withdrew a long shaft with brass bands. "I must continue my work on this."

"What is it?"

"My idea for a device to measure the distance to a ship."

"Oh!" I looked at it a while, shaking my head. "How could it do that?"

"These two sticks slide one upon the other, held by these bands, allowing the length to be adjusted to the ship's mast height by sighting on the smallest peg."

I shook my head. "I am no further ahead in understanding this. You must elaborate."

"In gunnery, we hold our fingers out at arm's length like this to learn the distance to a ship. Most masts stand about eighty feet, and when two fingers just cover it, that is four hundred yards. Four fingers are two hundred."

"And if the mast is taller or shorter than eighty feet?"

"We adjust the estimated distance longer or shorter. The method is rather crude, but it is better than having nothing to assist our estimate." He picked up the sticks again. "I hope to make it more accurate with my device. This end is placed to the eye, and at the other end will be a series of pegs, replicating fingers, but varying in size in a graduated progression."

He lifted it to his cheek below an eye. "With the ship on the horizon at six miles, I would sight on the smallest peg and adjust the instrument length until the mast is just covered by it. Each of the larger pegs will be marked for distance. Four miles, two miles, eight hundred yards, and so on."

I nodded. "And using trigonometry, determine the size of the pegs."

"Exactly!" He pointed to a small box. "I calculated the six-mile and the four-mile pegs and crafted them. My thought now is to take advantage of the rare good fortune of having a ship on the horizon, that I may test the viability of my idea."

"It seems perfectly viable to me."

"I love how your mind so readily grasps concepts." He set the instrument on the chart table and wrapped me in his arms.

"Ummm. And I love how your mind conceives them."

He chuckled. "Seems all that remains, then, is to test the accuracy of my calculations and the skill of my crafting."

I smiled up at him. "And to thank that ship for giving chase."