The sunset that evening, the fourth of the chase, brought the men back to melancholy thoughts. On a ship as small as St. James, the whole crew was aware of the consequences of their situation, which became the topic of subdued conversation before the mast as much as in the cabins aft. Each of them knew that the ultimate factor was not whether they would or could capture the other schooner, it was if the water would last until a port could be found. They also knew that they were somewhere far outside their patrol area and were going into a situation none of them could predict or control.
As if mocking them, the sun failed to display its usual splendor in farewell, obscured by a trade wind squall line miles off to leeward, the only one they had seen in days. No one stood on the deck and gazed off to the western horizon. Instead they sat up forward around the fore hatch and silently watched their opponent sailing steadily onward ahead of them. No laughter or boasting about spending their prize money. The thirst was starting to hurt. The crew was growing quiet. Both Rork and Wake took note of it.
The whole crew on deck awaited the calculations of the noon sight and the subsequent position. The night and following morning had produced no change in the weather or the relative places of the vessels in the pursuit. The noon position would be the first new information available. From McDougall to Kane, the ship’s boy, they all waited and watched the after deck hatch for their captain and bosun to emerge from their conference in the cabin below.
“Well, sir, what do ye think?” Rork looked nervous.
Wake looked up from the table, holding down his navigation instruments with one hand and the miserably meager chart of the coast of Yucatan, Mexico, with the other. Everything on the table was threatening to go over to the deck from the gyrations of the schooner in the now beam seas.
“I think we should see land on the bow soon. Says here there are low sandy hills on the coast, and we should be close to a place called Cozumel. It’s a large island off the mainland. I’m pretty sure we are finally out of the damned current now and making good speed over the bottom.”
“Captain, I’ll be blessed by the saints above! ’Tis appearin’ that you were right as rain. Mexico it is. An’ now we’ll have ta deal with the slimy frog navy, if they show.”
“I hope not. We don’t need that. I just want to capture that bitch ahead of us and get some water ashore and leave for home.”
Rork didn’t show the shock of hearing his usually polite captain swear, but he felt it and knew it was a manifestation of the tension they all were feeling. The previous night his captain had made the final momentous decision to continue the pursuit. They were down to three casks of water, not even enough to last the voyage back to Key West. Capture the schooner or not, they were going to have to find water on this coast somewhere. That meant going ashore without permission in a country that was opposed to the Americans.
Wake knew he was in a perilous situation, both physically and politically. He had left his patrol area and endangered his crew and his ship. The only positive way out of this was an immediate capture of the other ship with a valuable cargo aboard. Wake resigned himself not to think about any repercussions, only about the enemy and the water.
The captain and bosun went up on deck and stood by the helm facing the crew that had assembled without being called. Normally, a captain would not brief a crew on the ship’s position or decision making. He would order, they would obey. But these were not normal times. These men were on the border of being sick from diminished water intake in the brutal tropical summer sun. And they soon might be faced with a fight for their lives in a naval battle with an unknown enemy. They deserved to know the situation. Wake’s voice was dry and raspy as he got right to the point.
“Men, we are off the coast of Mexico. We are going to capture that schooner ahead, one way or another. After we do, we will re-water somewhere on this coast. Right now we have enough water for three more days. Not enough to sail back, but enough to look for water here.
“Today we will sight the coast. Today we will get that ship. We will solve the riddle of this chase. We all saw her reception by the Spanish. There must be someone, or something, on her that was worth it to that schooner’s crew to flee this far. We’re going to find out what, and we’re going to do that today. Rest easy. We may well have to fight her soon.”
The crew said not a word. No emotion played on their faces to show their thoughts. They just turned away and went to their watch chores or off-watch rest. Rork’s face transformed from serious contemplation to his normal easy smile.
“Aye, Captain Wake. A rougher row to hoe we’ve not had, but this one will smooth out. I’ll see about getting some more rags aloft to catch this breeze an’ speed the little darlin’ up a bit.”
***
Three hours later they sighted a low blur ahead. Both vessels had
