The frigate had no sooner rounded Cap Salomon than the city of Fort Royal came in sight as the great bay opened up. Built on the northern side, it was only just inside it. The higher buildings showed up white and red in the telescope but with the mouth of the bay nearly four miles wide it was still impossible to make out much detail.
The ship's company had had dinner and were in good spirits; Aitken reported wryly that he had heard much among the men about how they could have knocked out the other batteries, and that the Captain was probably leaving them for the time being, intending to tackle one a week to keep the guns' crews in practice.
Ramage smiled and glanced at the dogvanes from time to time. The wind was light and from the east, but they were still in the lee of the mountains behind Cap Salomon. Once they came clear of the headland - and the north-going current was giving them a good lift - there should be a good wind all the way up to Fort Royal because the land on the eastern side of the bay was low.
Ramage felt the excitement growing on board the frigate: the men were still at quarters and Jackson, Rossi, Stafford and several other former Tritons were conspicuous for their nonchalance. They had been in action too many times to be impressed by the distant sight of a French port. Young Orsini and Benson were wearing their dirks with all the flourish of fencing masters, eager as ferrets to catch his eye in case there was a message to carry or an errand to perform.
'Mr Aitken, I think we can be sure the Governor of Fort Royal has a list of the Navy so we might as well introduce ourselves. Have our pendant numbers hoisted.'
The First Lieutenant snapped the order to the two midshipmen, who ran to the flag locker, and the men watched the three flags being hoisted. Hearing a curious murmuring, Ramage walked to the quarterdeck rail to look down on the maindeck. The men were grinning and clapping each other on the back, obviously delighted that the flags streaming in the wind were advertising their presence in an enemy port.
Ramage walked aft again. It was a small thing, but the men obviously wanted Fort Royal to know that the frigate was the Juno. Perhaps that was what Bowen had meant, but pride in their ship was still a poor excuse for firing pistols all over the place.
He suddenly realized that the men and, damnation take it, the lieutenants too, were behaving as though they expected the Juno to stay on this tack and storm Fort Louis! He gestured to the First Lieutenant and Master to join him by the capstan, where they could talk out of earshot of the quartermaster and the men at the wheel.
'My intention,' he said heavily, 'is to beat into the bay until we get a sight of the Salée River anchorage and can see what vessels are there. After that we will bear away round the south end of the shoal to the east of the city, then bear up again towards the Carénage and Fort St Louis for a sight of the frigates. After that we'll bear away so we can run past the front of the city and out to Pointe des Nègres. By that time I hope to have a complete list of every ship and vessel in the bay that might interest us, with their positions.'
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.