Under false colours

'Obliged to 'ee,' he said shortly, and went below.

Dawn revealed their position. To the south east the cliffs and high flat tableland of the island dominated the horizon. Their concern at the difficulties of fetching the flyspeck of rock had been confounded by a providence that had landed them on the very reefs which ran out to the north-west of Helgoland itself and which, just to seaward of them, now lay beneath a seething white flurry of breaking swells, the last vestiges of the tempest.

Drinkwater could see clearly the column of the lighthouse, together with the roofs of some buildings and the spire of a church. To the left of Helgoland lay a narrow strait of water in which several merchant ships lay at anchor. Beyond them the strait was bounded by a low sandy isle on which a pair of beacons could be clearly seen against the pale yellow dawn. Drinkwater found the battered watchglass that nestled in a rack below the Galliwasp's rail, focused and swept the cliff top. The rock rose precipitously, fissured and eroded by countless gales and the battering of the sea. Tufts of thrift and grass, patches of lichens, and the streaked droppings of seabirds speckled the grim and overhanging mass. Floating like a cloud above the cliff edge, hundreds of gulls hung on motionless wings, ridge-soaring on the updrafts of wind. Then Drinkwater saw the men, two of them, conspicuous in British scarlet. He lowered the telescope and stowed it. Striding aft he found Galliwasp's ensign and took it forward. Their situation must have been obvious, even to the pair of lobsters regarding them from the cliff, but there was no harm in underlining their predicament, or in declaring their nationality.

Walking forward past the tired men labouring half­heartedly at the pump handles, he caught hold of a halliard rigged on a spar raised and fished to the stump of the foremast. Bending on the ensign he ran it up, union down in the signal of distress.

'D'you reckon on any help from the shore, Cap'n?' asked one of the party at the pumps, an American, by his accent.

'We've been seen by two soldiers on the cliff top,' Drinkwater answered confidently as he belayed the flag halliard, 'and I see no reason why those vessels at anchor shouldn't lend us a hand.'

He pointed and the men, grey faced with fatigue, looked up and saw the anchored ships for the first time.

'Say, Cap'n Waters, what is this place?'

Drinkwater grasped the reason for their anxiety. They had no idea where they were, and probably considered his act of hoisting a British ensign a piece of folly.

'It's all right, lads,' he said, 'this is Helgoland. It's British occupied; those soldiers ain't Frenchmen.'

He could see the relief in their faces as they spat on their hands and resumed the monotonous duty of keeping the Galliwasp afloat until help arrived.

Help arrived in the form of Mr Browne and two naval launches. The heavy boats crabbed slowly towards them, rounding the eastern point of Helgoland under oars. They were full of men and followed by several smaller boats from the merchant ships.

Mr Browne, a heavily built man with a florid face and white side-whiskers, was dressed in a plain blue coat secured with gilt buttons. On these Drinkwater noticed the anchor of the naval pattern. Mr Browne, he correctly deduced — together with his two launches — was a servant of the crown.

'Browne,' the man announced, staring about him as he clambered over the Galliwasp'?, rail. 'King's harbour-master.'

'Litttlewood, Master of the Galliwasp of London, bound for the Baltic from the London River. This is Captain Waters, supercargo.'

Browne nodded perfunctorily at Drinkwater.

'You're in a pickle, to be sure,' said Browne, pushing a tarred canvas hat back from his forehead and scratching his skull.

'I've a valuable cargo, Mr Browne,' said Littlewood with a show of tired dignity, 'and I've every intention of saving it.'

Browne cast a ruminative eye on the fat shipmaster.

'We've a great deal of valuable cargo hereabouts, Mister,' he said in an equally weary tone, 'but we'll see what can be done.' He sniffed, as though the noise signified his taking charge of the situation, then turned to the ship's side, cupping two massive hands about his mouth and shouting instructions to the boats assembling round the wallowing Galliwasp.

'We'll tow her in, boys ...' He turned to Littlewood, 'Is she taking much water?'

'Enough, but the pumps are just holding their own,' Littlewood replied, throwing Drinkwater a quick glance to silence him. Watts had just reported the water to be gaining on them.

'If she looks like foundering,' the harbour-master bellowed to his boat coxswains, 'we'll beach her on the spit by the new beacon.'

Browne turned inboard again, fished in a pocket, brought out a quid of tobacco and thrust it into his mouth. 'We'll buoy-off your anchor, Cap'n, save a bit o' time and miss the worst of the ebb against us in the road. Can your men get a rope ready forrard?'

By noon, having set a scrap of sail on the jury foremast and submitted to the efforts of the boats orchestrated by Mr Browne, the Galliwasp lay anchored to her second bower just off the new beacon, where she would take the bottom at low water.

To the east the low sandy isle protected them from easterly winds. Extending north-west and south-east, reefs like the one they had struck twelve hours earlier protected them from the north and south.

To the west, the direction of the prevailing wind, the island of Helgoland formed a welcome bulwark. Less forbidding from this eastern aspect, the tableland inclined slightly towards them. Along the beach were situated a row of wooden buildings, some under construction. From among them a road climbed the rising land to a neat village surrounding the church spire whose cruciform finial Drinkwater had spotted from the far side of the island. On the beach, fronting the row of wooden buildings, a beacon with a conical topmark was in transit with the lighthouse beyond.

'Well, sir,' said Browne after dismissing the boats, 'you could show your appreciation in the usual way.'

Littlewood nodded as Browne rubbed a giant paw across his lips.

'Come below, Mr Browne,' said Littlewood, relief plain on his face, 'and you as well, Cap'n Waters, you've been on your pins since the alarm was raised.'

They went below and Browne's eyes gleamed when he saw the mellow glow of rum.

'Good Jamaica rumbullion, Mr Browne,' said Littlewood, handing the harbour-master a brimming glass.

'The best, sir,' said Browne expansively now that the job was done. 'You will have to clear your cargo, Cap'n Littlewood. I will take you ashore later,' he went on, indicating there was no hurry and edging his empty glass forward across the table with the fingers of his huge hands.

'I should be obliged, Mr Browne, if you would favour me by arranging an interview with the Governor,' put in Drinkwater. Browne turned his gaze upon Littlewood's supercargo.

'The Governor's only concerned with military affairs, Cap'n ...'

'Waters.'

'Cap'n Waters, if either of you have commercial matters to discuss, Mr Ellerman, chairman of the Committee of Trade will be able to assist.' He turned back to Littlewood. 'If you want to discharge your cargo, Cap'n Littlewood, he's the man to consult.'

'But where can we store it?'

'Them wooden shacks they're puttin' up all along the foreshore,' Browne said, draining his second tumbler of rum, 'they call warehouses. Most are empty ... speculation,' Browne said the word with a certain disdain. 'Someone'll rent you sufficient space, I'm sure.'

'I'd still appreciate your arranging an interview with the Governor, Mr Browne,' Drinkwater said with quiet insistence.

Browne looked at Littlewood who nodded. 'Oblige Cap'n Waters, Mr Browne, if you please.'

'God's strewth,' growled the King's harbour-master, 'this ain't another cargo on the bleeding secret service, is it?'