Chapter Thirteen
"Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!"
As the morning sun grew warmer, the fog burned off like a curtain lifting. At first the Black Pearl's rowers gained on the Navy ship, bringing her within sight, but then the warming atmosphere of the Caribbean Sea raised a stiff southerly wind, and both ships had to beat to southward. Rowing became pointless, and it was just as well, because the whole crew was needed for the constant adjusting of the sails that it took in order to tack.
Jack left Gibbs to orchestrate the sails, watching the Tarantula carefully from where he stood at the wheel. Norrington, too, his lean body tense as he rested against a rail, looked at nothing but the other ship. Elizabeth kept one eye on the Tarantula, and watched Will with the other as he stationed himself on the mainsail yard.
She noticed, at about the same time Norrington must have, when the Tarantula traveled a little too far on a port tack without tacking about. The Commodore headed for the stairs to where Jack stood, Elizabeth hard on his heels.
"Sparrow!" Norrington called. "She's coming about."
"Aye," Sparrow said. "I wondered when he'd decide to fight."
The three of them watched in silence, as the calls of the crew echoed around them. The Tarantula turned with the wind and bore down on them. Gibbs prepared the guns, and at Sparrow's order, reefed sails, slowing the ship.
"Commodore," asked Sparrow, sounding no more concerned than if he were inquiring after the health of the man's family, "as a well- trained Navy man, what will Stanley try first?"
Norrington studied the pirate captain for a moment. "He'll try to rake us," he said.
"Interesting," said Sparrow. "Gibbs?"
"Aye, Cap'n. Blast shot through the part of our ship where there're no guns, at no risk to them. Standard Navy tactic for single ships."
"Fore or aft?" asked Sparrow.
"It depends on what he plans for his next move," Norrington answered. "Or," he shrugged, "what looks easiest. I know Stanley. He prefers a head-on fight. I say fore."
Sparrow nodded, his head tipped at a thoughtful angle. "I prefer aft, so we'll make that the easiest. Gibbs, don't run them out, but man the sweeps."
"We don't have the men for the guns and the sweeps," said Gibbs.
"Take the men off the starboard guns. We're not going to fight, we're going to take the lead in our little race."
Gibbs smiled.
Elizabeth found she was breathing fast as the Navy ship grew larger. She was bursting with questions, but held her tongue.
Norrington had no such compunction. "Sparrow," he said, "this is your chance. Your ships are evenly matched. I'll advise you on tactics. Sink him!"
"My father's on that ship, Commodore!" Elizabeth protested.
Norrington gave her an impatient, if pitying look. "We don't know that," he said.
Never taking his gaze from the approaching warship, Sparrow smiled tightly. "Thank ye kindly, Commodore, but I hate people blowing holes in my ship."
The Tarantula grew closer and closer, her jolly roger flying proudly. The men on the Pearl's deck loaded firearms, and glanced uneasily at their captain. Elizabeth wondered if there was a spare rifle for her. She also worried for Will and the others aloft. They were such obvious targets, and all unarmed.
Will had remarked to her how the Pearl's crew seemed to anticipate their orders, and, for the first time, Elizabeth saw it, too.
AnaMaria was above Will in the mainmast rigging, and Elizabeth heard her warn, "Prepare to tack about!"
Jack whirled the wheel hard to starboard. They were already on a starboard tack, so now the vessel's stern swung out, toward the approaching ship.
With the wind behind her, the Tarantula easily adjusted course to bring her port guns at the correct angle to rake the Black Pearl's stern. As soon as Sparrow saw she was committed, he called, "Helm's a lee! Run out the sweeps!"
"Helm's a lee!" answered Gibbs. The head sheets flapped as they were let go. Elizabeth heard the grinding sound of the oars sliding on the hull.
"Raise tacks and sheets!" called Sparrow.
She had seen the full process of changing tack many times. Sparrow was bringing his ship as hard to port as he could, given that they were fighting a headwind, almost doubling back on the other ship's course. Elizabeth only hoped they would move in time to evade the Tarantula's cannons. She and Norrington watched breathlessly as the warship slid behind their rotating stern. The Tarantula was so close, now, she could see the men in their Navy uniforms, and she looked desperately for a glimpse of her father. Still, the guns could only shoot straight out from the side, and the Black Pearl was slipping past the Tarantula, into position where the two ships could fire broadside to broadside.
"Let go, and haul!" ordered Sparrow, spinning the wheel all the way to port. "Full speed on the sweeps!"
As one, the yards spun like tops as the crew let go their braces. Now under full sail, and with rowers at their stations, the Black Pearl leaped into her new tack.
Elizabeth was so caught in the activity that she hadn't noticed Norrington, until now, when he put a firm hand around her shoulders. "Mrs. Turner, I think it wise that you . . ."
He was interrupted by simultaneous cannon fire, issuing from both ships. The deck beneath her shook, almost throwing her off her feet, so that she couldn't but be grateful for his supporting arm.
Cannon balls pounded into the sea and splintered into the hull below, but when Elizabeth opened her eyes, their ship was past the Tarantula, beating full speed to the south. The Tarantula fired another, frustrated volley at where the Black Pearl had been, to no avail.
A great cheer went up from the pirates, and they threw themselves into their work with vigor. Elizabeth looked up into the rigging for Will, and was rewarded by his triumphant wave.
The Tarantula pursued them, but never gained. Elizabeth smiled, thinking that even against another ship of the same class, the Black Pearl was still the fastest ship in the Caribbean. She felt it had a lot to do with the skill and dedication of the crew.
All morning the race continued beneath sparkling skies and a mild sun. The two ships remained ever in sight of each other, but never very near. The crew settled in to the routine of constant tacking. Feeling useless, Elizabeth waited for a chance to ask AnaMaria to show her a way she could help. She wasn't sure that any of the men would take her request seriously.
Even AnaMaria scowled dubiously at her, until Elizabeth insisted she was in earnest. Then the dark-skinned pirate positioned her at the spanker-sheet and guy, and showed her how to ease the sheet to leeward after the mainsail was hauled aft when tacking. The first time Elizabeth did it on her own, she reported proudly into the din of the other crew reports, "Well, the spanker-sheet!" her shrill voice capturing the attention of every man on board.
Norrington, as she had anticipated, was the first to object. "Mrs. Turner!" he said, coming forward to her position, but then looking back at Sparrow. "This is not work for a woman! It's dangerous business."
It wasn't Norrington's opinion Elizabeth cared about. She looked for Will, and found him in the rigging looking at her with a mixture of amusement and concern. She smiled proudly at him, and he smiled back. She had been determined to oppose even her husband's disapproval, but was immensely relieved not to have it.
"I won't be a useless passenger, Commodore," she said.
Norrington opened his mouth and closed it again. He wasted no time arguing with her, but turned to the captain of the ship. Elizabeth's stomach tightened. It was Sparrow's command, and she felt herself obliged to obey his orders in the running of his own ship.
"Sparrow," Norrington demanded, "you can't allow this."
Sparrow glanced coolly at Elizabeth and she glared back at him. "The spanker's not so well, Lass," he said mildly.
Elizabeth lifted her chin.
"Small pull the spanker sheet!" he ordered. "Tearlach, show her."
The nearest crewman approached, and Elizabeth relinquished her line to him. He pulled in to windward and returned the line to her. Elizabeth tried to send Sparrow a grateful look, but he had already turned away. She smiled evilly at Norrington, who also turned away from her.
Later she confided to AnaMaria her surprise that Sparrow had allowed her a station on the sails. "Why does he allow a woman to do a man's work?" she asked. She didn't mean only herself. "No one else would."
AnaMaria threw a glance in the direction of the captain, and her customary scowl softened very slightly. "The captain believes in freedom," she said. "Equal shares."
"What about women being bad luck on a ship?"
"There are exceptions," said AnaMaria. "Me, they all think I'm a sorceress."
Elizabeth got no more from her, as they all prepared for another tack.
In the afternoon, the wind shifted, and tacking was no longer necessary. Both ships sped on course under full sails.
"Jack seems pleased," Will told her, as they downed some food together. "I think the headwind worried him, for some reason."
"What exactly is Dead Man's Passage?" she asked.
"That's what they call the approach to Isle De Muerte. Remember, with all the hidden reefs and wrecks?"
She did remember. "And sharks," she said.
Will nodded, his mouth full.
"What's he going to do there?"
Will shrugged.
Elizabeth kissed him on the cheek and returned to work with a strangely light heart.
"Land ho!" called a lookout.
Ahead of them, rimming the horizon, lay a mist-enshrouded island.
Elizabeth looked back at the distant Tarantula. Now they too knew the location of the Isle De Muerte.
"Reef all sails!" ordered Sparrow, and the crew scrambled to obey. The ship slowed, and Sparrow steered a leisurely course around the island to the approach. The Tarantula, under full sail, bore down on them very fast.
Then Elizabeth lost track of the Tarantula as Sparrow ordered a series of, to her, incomprehensible maneuvers. She struggled to comply at her own station with the commands. When she could look about again, she saw that they were positioned with the wind astern, aimed directly at the Passage. But still Sparrow had only light sails flying; the Black Pearl hardly moved.
The Tarantula, however, closed with them at full speed.
"Ready all sails!" Sparrow called, watching the Tarantula. "Loose all sails!"
"All sails, Aye!" answered the crew, and in moments the Black Pearl's wings were unfurled and she flew into Dead Man's Passage at top speed.
Elizabeth's position was full forward, and Norrington joined her there, his face pale and his knuckles white as he gripped the rail and stared into the waters ahead. At the helm, Sparrow steered them at reckless speed, through reefs and wrecks and who knows what hidden perils. Elizabeth felt the whole crew cringing, and holding their breaths. She too, gasped as she saw sharp coral zip by the bow, missing the ship by only a very little bit. She had to stop looking at the water, instead she peered aft, trying to see the Tarantula.
Just when she felt she could endure the agony of apprehension no more, she heard a sound that would haunt her nightmares to come. A deep, moaning groan echoed all around her, lingering for a long time, like some huge monster yawning. Everyone froze until Sparrow ordered, "Furl all sails! Prepare to come about!" which broke the spell and allowed the crew to move again. Losing all sail slowed their progress significantly, and, while still coasting on the momentum, Sparrow began to turn the ship entirely around. The bow, where Elizabeth was, swung back toward the Tarantula.
The Navy ship, she now saw, had slammed into something that had torn a huge rip in her hull, visible at the waterline, and possibly worse below. The ship listed near to scuppers, helpless.