LC 04 - Skeleton Crew (38 page)

"We had more wind than this when we were building her. I
designed her for the ocean." His breath was warm in her ear. "She
will protect your Spanish ship."

John made the cofferdam sound like a goddess rising from the
sea floor guarding one of the ocean's mysteries. Lindsay turned
around in his arms and faced him. He put his hands on her
shoulders.

"Lindsay."

"What?"

"Take care of yourself."

"Is that what you were going to say?"

"No. You are going to do what you will do. Just be careful doing
it."

Lindsay kissed him. "You better go take care of your mistress
over there so she won't get cranky and drown us."

Lindsay was in bed reading when Bobbie came in.

"The sea is rough out there. I think Luke and I traveled as far
vertically as we did horizontally." Bobbie changed into a nightshirt, brushed her teeth, and crawled into bed.

"You have a nice time with Luke?" Lindsay asked.

"Yes, I did. We didn't get along at first, but we do now. Did you
figure out what that thing is?"

"The quarter? No."

"Maybe it was marking something."

"Maybe," Lindsay agreed.

"You know, we have a map that shows a trail of artifacts, and
we have grids we search. But my team hardly ever searches within
the parameters of the expected area of recovery. I've been thinking-I mean, it's almost like Nate is looking for another ship."

"Don't think about it."

"Why?" Lindsay didn't say anything. "Lindsay?" Bobbie
jumped out of bed and came over and sat on the foot of her bed.
"You know something, don't you?"

"Bobbie. I can't say anything, and I won't lie to you. But please,
don't voice your thoughts on this subject out loud."

"Oh, my. Wouldn't that be fun? But why would it be a secret? I
guess you wouldn't want the Jones woman to loot it. What kind of
ship is it?"

"Bobbie, go to bed."

Bobbie crossed her legs and got comfortable. "I heard you
cleaned Easterall's clock today. Mike's, too."

Lindsay put down her reading and told Bobbie about the conversations.

"I'll bet that was satisfying," Bobbie said.

"Well, I confess it was."

"Interesting stuff in the chest. I like it that it's Valerian's. Do you
think Mike broke into it?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you've got to hurry and solve all this. What are you
reading?"

"Harper finished the translation. Yours is on your bed if you're
interested."

Bobbie jumped off Lindsay's bed and settled into hers with the
diary.

from a voyage on the Spanish jalleon
Estrella de' Espana C. 1558

franslated by J1arper Gatlunn

AMAN WAS accused of stealing food today. The steward, I understand, is swift in his punishments for thefts. I do not know all the
particulars, but the steward's food storage area was broken into
and some biscuits were found wrapped in a cloak in the man's sea
chest. Valerian and I stood together on the deck to watch the punishment. We didn't have to, but we did. The crew had to watch,
and I was listening to their grumblings as they assembled. I discovered that the man was the same one whom the boatswain had
favored over the rescued sailor, Sancho, in the matter of sleeping
space. This made me suspicious and I searched the crew's faces for
Sancho and found him near the front, a smirk on his face.

The sailor had his head bowed as he was taken up to the poop
deck by a couple of his mates where he would be tied to the
shrouds to receive his lashes. I felt for the sailor and, as at many
other times on this voyage, felt fortunate for my station. Because I
am of the Order of Santiago, I would be exempt from such punishment, even by the House of Trade. I am thankful for my good
service as a soldier, the pure Spanish blood of my ancestors-and
my wealth. I noted a serious expression on Valerian's face. Perhaps
he was thinking my thoughts, thinking about his own mixed heritage and the fact that it is only his own personal wealth that gives
him any protection.

I looked back toward the poop deck in time to see the man break away and leap down, race across deck, streaking past
Valerian and me-the boatswain and steward in pursuit. We were
all surprised. His comrades did not try to stop him. However, some
of the soldiers on deck did, only to be menaced by the sailors. The
man sprinted across the deck to the bow of the ship and leaped
down onto the prow, where the pursuit stopped.

I was puzzled. The man was at the end and could go no farther.
Why didn't the boatswain and steward take him? "Sanctuary,"
Valerian whispered to me. I watched, fascinated.

"You were already taken," said the boatswain. "Come back. It
will be worse if you don't."

The sailor shook his head vigorously. "I protest. I am innocent."

"We found the biscuits in your chest," said the steward.

The sailor pointed to Sancho. "He put them there. You know
that's true," the sailor implored the steward. I saw the steward and
the boatswain exchange glances. "Please," he said, "let me take it
to the House o' Trade." They looked to the captain and he nodded. "Oh, thank you," said the sailor, kneeling. "You are most generous."

That ended the episode. I discovered that the crewmen are not
without some recourse. That is a good thing.

Lopez approached me today. I was at my favorite post on the
weather deck looking out at the ocean when he came up behind
me. "Why are you on this voyage?" he asked of me. "You are a
man of a wealthy family. The captain said that your brother
requested the favor that you sail with us, but I think that the favor
was for someone more important, eh?"

There are many things I could have said to him. I could have
said, "You are acquainted with my wife's cousin. She and my wife
were raised together and, though quite different in appearance,
they are as alike as twins in temperament." But that would have
defamed my Luisa to another (however accurate the portrayal of
her). I could have hinted at misjudgment in the management of
the meager inheritance left to me, and said that I asked my brother
to find me a position in the New World. That would not be true,
but it is so common a story that it is credible. I could have said I
am adventurous to the point of suicidal, which I am beginning to
believe is true, having agreed to come on this journey. However,
such explanations would have exposed me as a man with something to hide, so I said to him the only thing that would make him believe all of the above explanations (if they were ever told him).
"My dear friend Lopez, you ask things that are not your concern."
As a man of honor, I refused to answer his excessively probing
questions. But I could not help but wonder if Valerian had told him
of my midnight ramblings in the bowels of the ship.

I saw something wondrous today. The ocean has been calm
and the air warm. The ships in the fleet are spaced wide apart. Life
is good. Valerian and I spend much time on the upper decks
watching the sea. It can be hypnotic. As a child, I was told many
stories about monsters that lurk in the seas and on distant lands. I
see now how such stories come to arise. I heard the thing before I
saw it. Valerian was about to explain something to me when I
heard the hiss of a serpent. A sailor yelled and pointed and the
men scrambled. I looked to see what could cause such a sound
and at a distance not more than the Rosario was from us, I saw the
supple, shimmering neck of a sea serpent. That was my first
thought and I think I must have exclaimed, for Valerian gripped
my arm and I heard him laugh. I soon discovered that the creature
was a column of water, lifted by what, I can't imagine. (Valerian
says the wind, but Valerian also thinks he can fly.) It moved across
the water as if alive. Bellisaro yelled instructions to the helmsman
and we veered away, as did others in our convoy. No ship was hurt
by it, but I understand it could have destroyed us had we the misfortune to sail through it. I watched it until it disappeared into the
horizon.

The evening last, following the sighting of the monster, Valerian
and I played a game of chess. Before going to bed, we had drinks
with the captain and Lopez in the captain's cabin. We were jovial
(as were the crew). We have not many more days left before we
reach Havana. After drinks, I bid him good night and went to bed.
I slept soundly during the night. I awoke late, but refreshed. I fancied myself becoming quite a good sailor.

I went to the forecastle deck and found that we are in a very
strange place. The waters are clearest blue and the sea is calm. A
strange mass of green plants floats in the water and we seem to be
entangled in them. The crew, whose moods I am learning to read,
are quiet but nervous. Some stare at the sails, for there is little
wind. I looked to see if the rest of the fleet are thus quelled. They
are gone. I searched the seas in all directions, squinting at the horizon for a familiar silhouette. We are alone in this strange sea.

When I discovered our situation, I felt fear rise in my stomach,
then felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning, I faced Valerian. I saw in
his eyes a look of intimate knowledge, his lips upturned in a sliver
of a smile. "Do not be afraid of adventure, my friend," he said.

The ship moves slowly through the watery forest. Valerian says
the slowness is not the floating vines, but the lack of wind, but that
is all he will tell me. I realize that whatever it is the three of them
are up to, I will find out soon enough. I watch Bellisaro. He does
not use his instruments as much, as he has the crew tend the sails
and the helmsman tend the tiller. Watching him calms me. He is
so engrossed in the progress of the ship, his face so intent on his
task, and it came to me how much he loves the sea and the challenge of guiding a ship through its waters, catching whatever wind
he can.

The way through the sea is slow, for there has been little wind
for three days. Today we were completely becalmed. Bellisaro gave
the order for the guardian to lower the ship's boats. Once in the
water, the guardian directed the oarsmen and they towed the
ship. Progress now is even slower and the crew grumble. They are
fearful of such a calm sea and strange plants that hang on the oars
as they come out of the water.

We do, however, eat much fresh fish. It is a welcome change,
and the steward is not stingy with the crew's food, as he usually is.
I am glad the captain saw fit to order extra rations. Whatever mission we are on, the captain realizes the benefit of a satisfied crew.

Today was the second day towing the ship. I was fishing along
with Valerian and the cook when a fish jumped out of the water
and flew. Flew! Its flight wasn't far, perhaps three codos before it
dipped back into the water. I have never before seen a fish fly. I
hadn't known they could.

The things that delight me and Valerian make many of the
sailors apprehensive. In these dead, calm waters surrounded by the
seaweed and sea creatures, traveling less than a knot through the
water, oppressed by the wet heat, tempers erupt at the slightest
provocation. However, many men take their spirits from Bellisaro.
If he does not seem worried, then neither are they. Indeed, he does
not seem overly anxious, though I have noticed a growing tenseness in him throughout the voyage. But it may be my imagination.
Bellisaro is not an easy man to read.

It was another day of no wind. The crew grows more restless and short-tempered. Even Bellisaro seems to grow weary of the
slow pace. The captain wanted to cut the food ration. I thought
that would be a disaster. I overheard Lopez talk him out of it.
Sometimes the captain is a fool. He knows nothing about the sea
or sailing the ship, which is common among ship's captains. I find
that odd. There are a great many rules and allowances in the
House of Trade that I question. But then again, here I am, trying
to do their bidding. I'm beginning to think that sending me on this
errand is yet another example of their folly.

I passed the day in my cabin reading a book that Valerian
loaned me-a strange text written by an English Franciscan friar
named Bacon. I'm not sure what I think of it.

Tempers are worse. There is still no wind. The captain yells at
Bellisaro as if he were controlling the wind and, out of contrariness,
forbidding it to blow. The men are afraid we will remain stranded
here. At our slow pace, I'm not sure they aren't right. It is hot.

The poisonous Sancho's cleverness turned against him today. I
would like to say that I pity him in his present situation. It was my
father's opinion that I was not suited for the military-too tenderhearted, he said. My father was wrong. He, like many, confused my sense of justice and compassion toward the least of
God's creatures with being faint-of-heart. Sancho did the unthinkable. He struck the boatswain, his superior. Out at sea, as on a military mission, discipline can be the difference between success
and failure, life and death. His action required swift and severe
punishment. I confess, I was also relieved at Sancho's plight
because I had been brooding over not being able to tell the captain about his plotting.