Sea Robber by Tim Severin Page B

only difference was that the mountain crests no longer carried any snow.
    ‘Can’t say I’ll be sorry when this voyage is over, even if we have to face interrogators at the end of it,’ said Jezreel.
    ‘My guess is we’ll reach our destination in the next day or two,’ said Hector.
    The lookout called down that a sail was in sight to the north-west.
    The aviso’s captain, a stocky and phlegmatic Basque named Garza, growled at the helmsman to hold his course.
    ‘Seems I guessed right,’ said Hector. ‘We’re probably close enough to our destination for our captain to think he can outrun the stranger and get safely into harbour.’
    Half a dozen sailors led by the boatswain hurried about the deck. Here and there they made minor adjustments to sheets and braces, though Hector could discern little increase in the vessel’s speed. The sloop was already carrying full sail.
    Another shout from the masthead, this time confirming that the stranger was definitely on course to intercept.
    The steersman watched the captain nervously, as Garza ran stubby fingers through his beard, made his way to the ratlines and climbed up to join the lookout. A short time later the Basque was back down on deck. ‘Friends of yours, I think,’ he growled to Hector as he stepped past him.
    Jezreel leaped eagerly on to the ship’s rail. Grabbing the shrouds to steady himself, he raised one hand to shade his eyes against the sunlight reflecting off the sea and stared at the approaching vessel.
    ‘She’s a two-master. I think she’s the Bachelor’s Delight ,’ he exclaimed gleefully.
    The Basque captain overheard. ‘Tell your big friend not to get his hopes up,’ he called out to Hector. ‘That ship will never catch us.’ He turned to the helmsman, and Hector caught the words ‘inner channel … as close as you dare’.
    ‘What’s he doing?’ asked Jezreel. He jumped down on deck. The sloop was abruptly changing course.
    ‘Our captain has decided to run for the shallows, where the Delight won’t be able to follow us,’ answered Hector. ‘The aviso draws less water, and I expect the steersman knows every back-channel and bolthole through which to escape.’
    Over the next two hours Captain Garza’s tactics were borne out. The colour of the sea changed from dark blue to opaque grey-green as the sloop fled into shoal depths, running fast and keeping well ahead of the pursuit. Hector saw they were steering directly for a narrow channel between a small island and the shore.
    ‘The Delight can’t follow us through there without the risk of running aground,’ he commented to Jezreel. ‘She’ll be forced to turn back.’
    ‘Maybe Cook, if he’s still captain, will catch us as we come out from behind the island at the far end of the channel,’ said Jezreel hopefully.
    ‘More likely the aviso will drop anchor in shallow water behind the island, and wait. We’re in plain view of the coast, and messengers will already be on their way to alert a Spanish warship to come to the rescue. The Delight can’t afford to linger like a cat in front of a mousehole.’
    Abruptly Captain Garza blurted out what was clearly a Basque profanity. His attention was fixed on the channel ahead.
    Looking in the same direction, Hector saw the masts of a ship beyond the island, and the flash of canvas as she spread her topsails. Soon afterwards the vessel herself came in view, sailing down the channel towards them. An instant later he recognized the Cygnet .
    Behind him Jezreel let loose a great whoop of pleasure. ‘Who’d have thought it? Our high-principled Captain Swan has turned pirate. Ha-ha! He’s working with the Delight .’
    The ambush became clearer by the minute. The aviso was now too close to the coast to double-back and flee, and if she continued on her course, she was sure to run into the Cygnet ’s guns. Captains Swan and Cook, if they were still in command, had executed a neat pincer movement. Their prey was caught.
    Certainly the