Aitken looked disappointed but the veteran Southwick was obviously puzzled, wondering why the Captain was mentioning anything so obvious.
'I want a good man in the chains with a lead, and another man ready to relieve him,' Ramage added, 'and Jackson aloft with a telescope. He's the best man on board for identifying ships. How much water have we over the southern end of the shoal they call Grande Sèche?'
Southwick shook his head. 'Only three or four fathoms at the most, sir; we can't risk it. But we should see it clearly and it'll be as good as a row of buoys once we bear away from looking into the Salée River.'
'Very well. By the way, Mr Aitken, you can tell the men what we shall be doing; they seem to be expecting me to tow Fort St Louis back to Barbados and then give them shore leave.'
Once clear of the mountains the wind freshened to a strong breeze. As the Juno entered the bay it began veering to the south-east so that the frigate, close hauled on the starboard tack, was able to clear all the small headlands and shoals on the south side, heading east-north-east to get far enough in so that Pointe de la Rose did not hide the vessels at anchor in the Salée River, which was a deep indentation at the east end of Fort Royal Bay.
The sun was hot and dazzling as it reflected off the sea, and Ramage wished he could have had the awning rigged. The deck was like the top of a stove and his feet throbbed inside his boots. His stock was damp with perspiration, though the fresher breeze was beginning to cool him. The men did not seem to mind - but they did not have to wear uniform.
"That's Pointe de Boute, sir,' Southwick said, 'and you can just see Rose Point beyond. Another mile or so on this tack and we'll be able to see right into the Salée.' He turned and pointed over the larboard bow. ‘That lighter patch, that's the Grande Sèche.'
Ramage nodded: that was one advantage of the clear waters of the West Indies. With a little experience you could judge the depth of water by its colour in the sunlight. It was a paler blue where Southwick had pointed, which meant only three fathoms or so, but closer to the land it would turn into a light green, which warned of two fathoms or less. The sun had to be reasonably high, however, otherwise the reflection spoiled the navigator's best insurance.
Ramage thought Fort Royal Bay one of the loveliest in the Caribbean. The ridges of the hills and mountains to the north and south made interesting shadows, so that valleys emphasized peaks, while the low land to the east gave it a scale. The city was well-placed, sheltered from the northers of the winter yet pleasantly open to the cooling Trade winds from the east.
A hail from the mainmasthead interrupted his daydreaming as Jackson reported that one frigate was anchored in front of the city with masts stepped and lower yards crossed, and a second frigate was right in the Carénage with yards and topmasts down. Southwick was jotting down notes when Jackson shouted down that he could just begin to see into the Salée anchorage as it came clear of Rose Point,
Ramage swung round to look over the starboard side. The Salée anchorage was backed by mangrove swamps with an island in the middle and a small cay beyond, and within a couple of minutes he could see a dozen or more vessels at anchor, most of them heading to the south-east but a few lying more to the east, showing a local wind eddy. He began counting. Five ... six ... nine . . . ten . . . eleven schooners, low and rakish, and which obviously could be used as privateers. Only the seven largest had sails bent on. Hard to distinguish, but they seemed to be pierced for four guns a side. Those seven could carry a hundred men for a short voyage. There were nine droghers, slab-sided with apple-cheek bows, unhandy but able to carry a lot of cargo, and that was all. He could now see all of the anchorage where there was enough water for anything larger than a small fishing boat to float. He glanced at Southwick, who nodded and tapped his notebook, repeating the same totals that Ramage had counted. The Master then glanced significantly over the larboard side and Ramage looked across to see that the Grande Sèche shoal was drawing uncomfortably far south.
'We'll bear away if you please, Mr Aitken.' Going to the binnacle and then looking over the bow again he added: 'West by north ought to keep us clear.'
Bos'n's calls twittered, men ran to sheets and braces, and the Juno wore round until the wind was on the larboard quarter with Fort Royal itself over on the starboard bow. Ramage swung the telescope slowly along the shore, from west to east, finally reaching the grey bulk of Fort St Louis, which now had a large Tricolour streaming from its flagstaff. There was the Carénage and the frigate Jackson had described, stripped except for her lower masts. Had they used her yards and topmasts to start commissioning the one anchored in front of the town? If so, why anchor her out there? Perhaps they reckoned her guns gave the western end of Fort Royal some protection, relying on Fort St Louis to cover the eastern end.
The Juno was sailing fast now in an almost flat sea and Ramage watched as the big shoal drew round on to the quarter, leaving deep water right up to the shoal that extended half a mile from the Fort. He wanted a closer look at the frigate, and then that would be enough for today. He looked down at the compass again. 'Mr Aitken, we'll wear round. North by west, if you please.'
Again the men braced up the yards and sheets as the frigate came round on to the new course, putting the wind three points on her starboard quarter and Fort St Louis almost dead ahead. Soon Ramage could distinguish details of the buildings right along the shore; then through the telescope he could see that the French frigate was crowded with men. Many were in the ratlines, but he was not sure whether they had been working aloft or had climbed up to get a better view of the Juno. Her ports were open but her guns were not run out.
Smoke was drifting away from the Fort and a few moments later he heard the rumble of guns. The range was more than a mile. He turned to Aitken: 'Hail Jackson and ask him if he saw the fall of shot.'
The First Lieutenant pointed over the larboard quarter. 'I saw five, sir, half a mile away, right in our wake. There! They're firing again!'
Five more shots landed in the position Aitken had pointed out, five pinnacles of water that leapt up as though whales were spouting and then vanished.
'They just reloaded and fired without correcting their aim: not used to firing at a moving target,' Southwick commented. 'Another week's work to be done on that frigate,' he added. 'They must have three hundred men on board - just look at 'em perched in the rigging, like a lot o' starlings. They could get some of their guns to bear, so as they aren't firing they must be a long way from commissioning.'
'Short of powder, perhaps,' Aitken ventured, but Ramage gestured to the Fort, which had fired yet again.
Jackson hailed from the masthead: 'The Surcouf - that's the frigate, sir: I just made out the name on her transom when she swung to that gust.'
Ramage looked at Southwick with raised eyebrows. 'Don't know of her, sir,' the Master said apologetically. Thirty-six guns and she looks fairly new.'
Ramage closed his telescope with a snap. 'Bear away again, Mr Aitken: steer west by north. We'll just see if they have any more batteries at this end of the Bay. Once we have Pointe des Nègres on our beam I think we'll have rattled the bars loudly enough for today. You've the Surcouf’sexact position on the chart I assume, Mr Southwick,'
CHAPTER NINE
Two nights later Ramage stood on the quarterdeck with Wagstaffe, who was the officer of the deck, as the Juno stretched northwards under topsails only. It was a dark night, large banks of cloud frequently covering three-quarters of the sky and blacking out the stars. The glass was steady but by midnight there could be either a clear sky or pouring rain. Ramage grumbled to himself about the unpredictability of tropical weather.