Page 101 of A Castaway in Cornwall
Before Dyer could reply, Archie jerked a thumb in Alex’s direction. “To get rid of ’im.”
Alexander spoke up. “If you think I am why that ship is pursuing you, then by all means, get close to shore somewhere and let me off.”
From the hatch, he heard Laura protest, “Alexander, no.”
“I will not be like Jonah, bringing disaster on the entire ship.”
“Jonah, ey?” With a glance at the rail, Archie said, “That do give me an idea.”
“No, now ... hold on.” Treeve raised both hands. “No one is getting thrown overboard. But perhaps our skipper is right. We’ve no chance of outrunning that ship in open water all the way to Jersey. But we can land and hide anything ... questionable ... and then let them board us, if they like. When they find nothing and no one suspicious, they’ll let us go. I hope.” He turned to Dyer. “Can you do it?”
Dyer screwed up his face in thought. “Low tide is coming on with a racy current ebbing from the gap. To make it through those rocks, I’d need a chart and a compass.”
Pucky retrieved both.
Captain Dyer spread out the chart and ran a finger over it, tracing a narrow gutway through the rocks. Alexander leaned close, studying the chart as well.
“Depth?”
“Sufficient, according to this. But the chart is old.”
“It’s the best we’ve got.”
In the distance, southwest of Land’s End, the granite tower of Longships appeared, a lighthouse set amid a formidable array of rocky outcroppings, including what Dyer called the nasty Shark’s Fin. Alexander watched Dyer examine the gap between them and a pair of rocks marked asKettle’s Bottom, situated midway between Longships and the coast.
Dyer tapped the chart with his scarred finger. “We’d just make it over, but that revenue cutter will ground out if she follows us.”
“Can you get her through?”
“I think so. With bearings and a lookout.”
“Very well,” Treeve said. “Through the passage it is.”
Pucky crossed himself, and Jackson began praying under his breath.
Alexander prayed as well.
Decision made, Dyer’s doubts seemed to evaporate as duty called. Chest out, confident tilt to his chin, he called, “We’re going through, lads. Attend to the set of the sails. Get the best you can out of ’er.”
The other crewmen stood at the ready beside sheets and runners. Archie kept his eye on the captain, ready to throw his weight on the tiller.
“East, southeast, sir. Upon the instant.”
“Down helm. Sheets there.”
TheMerry Marycame into the wind, spray bursting over the bow.
“Pucky, aloft there and watch for rocks, tide rips, and eddies.”
“Aye, sir.” He climbed the rigging and shouted down, “Run, sir. Fine to starboard!”
Danger was clearly visible on both sides. The Shark’s Fin and Longships lay on the starboard quarter, the Kettle’s Bottom to larboard. They sailed through the gap, the lugger’s bowsprit surging forward like an aggressive porpoise.
The rise and fall of the crashing waves revealed rocks everywhere, the water foaming white around them, the passage even narrower than Alex had reckoned from the chart.
Behind them, the revenue cutter changed tack, moving westward around Longships.
The rocks drew abeam, the keel gave a creaking whine, and Alex heard the terrifying scrape of wood on rock. He noticed Laura grip the hatch and hold on tight.
