He acknowledged the Marine sentry's salute, went through to the great cabin and sprawled on the settee, feeling a sudden weariness which was mental rather than physical. He was asking too many questions and not finding enough answers. Southwick knocked on the door and came through into the cabin, a cheerful smile on his face. His expression did not change when he saw Ramage's furrowed brow,
‘That Diamond Rock is quite remarkable, isn't it, sir? I've been sketching it in the log. I estimate it is more than 550 feet high. And so parched I wonder how those goats manage to survive.'
'Goats?' Ramage exclaimed.
'Aye, I saw fifty or more through the glass, and that was only on the south-west side. Must be hundreds altogether. Means we can hunt for fresh meat when things are quiet - nice haunch of goat would make a pleasant change.'
Ramage snorted in disgust. 'You'd need to file your teeth first: the meat of those goats would serve as boot leather. They must live off the bushes; there's almost no grass except perhaps a little on the lower slopes.'
'It'd give the hunters plenty of exercise,' Southwick said happily, obviously not concerned about the toughness of the meat.
'Anyone needing exercise can arrange races up and down the rigging,' Ramage said crossly. 'Now, you have the chart of Fort Royal Bay?'
The Master unrolled it.
'Where would you expect the frigates to be anchored?’
'Carénage Bay,' Southwick said promptly, 'it's the deep cut just on the eastern side of Fort St Louis,' He turned the chart round and held it out for Ramage to see. 'If not there, then in front of the city - where it's marked "Anchorage des Flamands”.’
Ramage stared at the chart. 'Hmm, if we went close enough in - up here to the north-eastern corner of the Bay - we'd be able to look into the Salée River anchorage.'
'That's our best chance: I wouldn't feel confident taking the ship closer to the Salée,' Southwick admitted. 'Looks bad enough on the chart, and that doesn't show a tenth of the shoals. Coral grows there like weed in a garden. I'd say it was impossible to get into the anchorage itself without a local pilot. That's why the privateers like to use it. They know they're safe.'
'Safe from a frigate,' Ramage said thoughtfully, 'but sitting ducks for a boat attack.’
Southwick shrugged his shoulders. 'I must admit I'd sooner see those frigates out o' the way first, sir.'
'We've plenty of time,' Ramage said, beginning to cheer up. 'The frigates, the schooners, the droghers, the short batteries and then the goats if there's time to spare.'
'It'd be good exercise for the Marines,' said Southwick sardonically. 'Turn 'em loose on the Diamond with enough water for a week and tell 'em they have to live off the goats. Plenty of caves for them to sleep in - I saw three or four as we came by, some of them quite large.'
Ramage eyed Southwick with mock suspicion. 'I think you'd like to retire to the Diamond when the war is over.'
'We'll see.' Southwick was noncommittal. 'What are the orders for tonight, sir?'
Having discussed the navigation with the Master, Ramage passed the word for the First Lieutenant to join them. When Aitken arrived he told them briefly of the information passed on by the commanding officer of the Welcome. The First Lieutenant and Southwick both gave contemptuous sniffs, which Ramage found encouraging. The Master was always eager to seek out action, but up to this moment Ramage had had no chance to gauge Aitken.
'Do we have to leave those frigates in there, sir?' the First Lieutenant asked plaintively.
'Mr Southwick and I have just been going over the chart of Fort Royal Bay,' Ramage said. 'Have a look at it,' He gave Aitken a couple of minutes to absorb the general situation and then pointed to the two places where the frigates could be at anchor.
Aitken measured off distances from the latitude scale. ?Close enough to the Fort. Point-blank range . . .' he said mournfully.
Ramage felt disappointed: so the First Lieutenant was no fire-eater.
Aitken looked closely at the few soundings shown on the chart, and then dumbfounded Ramage by commenting: 'We'll have to sink one, since we can't tow 'em both out. Not unless they're rigged, in which case we could sail 'em.'
Ramage nodded as he thought the commanding officer of His Majesty's frigate Juno should nod when his First Lieutenant reached a conclusion he had himself reached a couple of hours earlier.
Aitken took out his watch and said eagerly. 'You plan to attack tonight, sir?'
Southwick shuddered and Ramage shook his head. 'We need to know a little more precisely where they are, and I don't think Mr Southwick would fancy piloting us into a harbour in the dark when he hasn't seen it for a few years. Not that I would ask him to, either!'
Aitken realized that his enthusiasm had run away with him. 'Of course, sir - but I’ll take a boat in tonight, if you wish. That way the French won't know the Juno is nearby.'
Ramage caught Southwick's eye and knew there was no need to worry about Aitken's aggressiveness; indeed it might be necessary to curb it. 'Don't worry about that: I'm sure the Governor at Fort Royal or St Pierre already knows we've relieved the brig. He's used to a British frigate tacking up and down the coast - this place has been under blockade for months.'
'That's what I find so puzzling about those frigates, sir,' Aitken said. 'Why haven't the French rigged 'em and used 'em to capture or drive off our ships?'
'The obvious reason may be the right one,' Ramage said quietly. 'Spars rotted or broken, short of cordage or sails . . . Probably waiting for supplies to arrive from France to commission them.'
Aitken looked at him admiringly, and Ramage felt embarrassed: it had been obvious enough to him, but not apparently to the First Lieutenant, nor, he saw from the look on Southwick's face, to the Master either.
'Give us a little more time,' Southwick commented.
'I hope so,' Ramage said, 'but I hope your thoughts aren't dwelling on those goats!'
'I'll let them take their turn,' Southwick said and began explaining the joke to Aitken, who looked excited and said enthusiastically: ‘I did a lot of deer hunting when I was a boy in Scotland, if that'd be any help.'
'Frigates,' Ramage said sternly, 'I'd be much obliged if you gentlemen would confine your thoughts to frigates, privateers and droghers.'
'Of course, sir,' said a chastened Aitken. 'Your night orders, sir?’
'Boat exercises,' Ramage said promptly. 'As soon as it is dark, we hoist out the boats and send away boarding parties. Issue them with muskets and pistols. Now's the time for them to make mistakes, out of earshot of the French. They'll row twice round the ship and then exercise at boarding us. We recover boats, hoist them out again, and do it once more. There won't be much sleep for anyone, but we'll have an easy day tomorrow.'
Southwick and Aitken glanced at each other at his last words, but Ramage decided against explaining his plan. The ship's company was in good spirits because it was confident. Now the men had to develop another kind of confidence - that they could deal with anything unexpected while in the boats. Most important of all, how to scramble up a ship's side while armed with a pistol, musket, cutlass or pike, and with a determined enemy firing down at them. There would be no shooting while they exercised boarding the Juno in the darkness, but it would teach them that the side of a prison wall and the side of a frigate could be just as difficult to scale.