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Chapter 10
La Rochelle past, the Rosemary beat on south under good trade winds. She halted for supplies in the Canary Islands before turning southwest and setting a course for the Caribbean. They had been lucky with the weather, and lucky in encountering none of the pirates and privateers who plied their trade off the coast of Africa.
Anamaria found she was enjoying the voyage. Captain Harvey, eternally good-humoured, was also a good leader and he had chosen a good crew. All the men were friendly, and although a few disputes arose - as was wont to happen aboard ship - nothing serious occurred.
And Sparrow was more relaxed. The open skies and the waters spread out for miles seemed to have awoken his spirit again. He could once more be relied on for tall tales and tuneless but rousing sea-shanties, though Anamaria noticed he avoided all the pirates' favourites and stuck to the more ribald of a standard sailor's repertoire.
So all was going well, and the ship was on schedule to beat the bad storms, when the day's lookout called down "Sail ho!" from the mainmast.
Jack Sparrow and Anamaria were not on duty, instead sitting together mending clothes. They, like the rest of the crew, stood and gazed out to sea, trying to catch a glimpse of the other ship. On the quarterdeck, Captain Harvey had his telescope out and was peering into it.
Shortly, word came that for now they were assuming the other vessel was only another merchant. Anamaria sat down and turned her attention back to her torn shirt, but Sparrow stayed leaning on the rail staring out to sea. Eventually he sat down again.
"That's no merchant," he said quietly to Anamaria. "That's Van Arps, that is, out o' Aruba. Nice piece of work. Heard tell he had someone quartered once, for pinching a silk scarf."
"Qu'est-ce qu'on fait, alors?" Anamaria asked, wondering if this was the time for herself and Sparrow to defect to the incoming pirates and ask them for a lift back to Tortuga, or whether siding with the likeable Harvey would be of more use.
"That may depend on what our estimable cap'n decides," said Sparrow. "If it looks like we're to pile on sail and outrun 'em - easy to know what to do. But if Van Arps catches us, and Rosie's off to meet Davy Jones, then Jack Sparrow might be back in business. I don't hold with Van Arps's ways, though. Bit too ruthless for my mind."
As he spoke, the lookout called again.
"Jolly Roger! Skull 'n crossbones, and a cannon!"
"Van Arps," Sparrow said, resigned.
The entire crew was on its feet now, straining to catch a glimpse of the pirates. Harvey was consulting with the bo'sun and the helmsman, and snapped his telescope shut.
"Right, gentlemen!" he said, "let's show them Rosemary's stern, shall we? All hands, we're piling on canvas."
Sparrow grinned at Anamaria and was off.
Soon the Rosemary's masts were creaking under the weight of the extra canvas, and the water was creaming under her bows. Harvey strode up and down the quarterdeck, casting his gaze back to where the tall sails of the pirate ship could be seen on the horizon. After ten minutes or so he spoke to the helmsman, who stepped aside allowing the captain to take control of his vessel. Glancing up at the tell-tales and the billowing sails, Harvey tweaked the steering to get the best speed from his Rosemary.
But Sparrow, standing towards the bows with Anamaria and several other sailors, was clearly ill at ease. He kept looking astern, then up at the sails, and back at the water. Anamaria, who knew her friend better than most, watched him and frowned.
"We're pullin' away, ain't we?" someone said.
"He won't catch us at this speed," another sailor agreed.
Jack Sparrow laughed, hollowly.
"No, he's catching us, all right," he said. "Slowly, but surely."
"Well, that ain't very optimistic," the first sailor said. "C'mon, Jim, show a little faith, won't you?"
"There's faith, and there's realism," Sparrow returned. "Right now, I'm being realistic. That ship's after us." He adjusted his hat and strode off towards the quarterdeck.
"Now what's he doing?" asked one of the men left. "Good sailor, our Jim, but a bit odd sometimes. You've known 'im longest, André - what's he doing?"
"I think," said Anamaria, cautiously, "I think he has recognised the ship."
"He ought've said so before!" the sailor said. "Instead of being all mysterious."
"He likes being mysterious," said Anamaria.
The group turned to watch what Sparrow was doing. He had arrived below the quarterdeck and was looking up, talking to Harvey with much gesticulation. By an unspoken accord, the sailors moved closer to hear what he was saying.
"That cannon," said Sparrow, waving his hand towards the Rosemary's own flag, flying proudly from the stern, "the one on the Jolly Roger? You know why he has a cannon on his banner, cap'n?"
"I don't," Harvey responded, "but I suspect you're about to tell me, Mr Swift."
Sparrow nodded. "It's because that little ship of his carries twenty of 'em. And he uses them. No broadsides - he'll fire straight at us, aim for our masts, and then we'll be boarded. And the fact we're English'll just make it worse."
"So how do you suggest we avoid this?" asked Harvey. "We can't outrun him, and our guns won't stand up to his."
"Easy, cap'n." Sparrow was getting into his stride now. "Run up a flag of truce. Get out a few valuable items, hand 'em over, no fussing, sail away. Be respectful."
"Of a pirate, Mr Swift?" Harvey looked incredulous.
Anamaria looked down at her feet, and wondered how long Jack Sparrow, pirate captain, would remain concealed behind Jim Swift, honest sailor. Already Sparrow was showing more than a hint of himself.
"A pirate with lots of guns," Sparrow pointed out.
Captain Harvey was looking thoughtful. "You may have something there," he said. "It would at least seem prudent, if we cannot outrun the scoundrels, to escape with nothing more than a material loss. All right, Mr Swift, I approve of your plan. Some of you, bring up three barrels of ale and two of wine. There's a chest in my cabin with coin in it. Bring that up also. And one of the cases of French china."
Sparrow grinned, put his hands together and bowed towards the captain. "Thanks, cap'n," he said. "André - let's fetch that case for Cap'n Harvey, shall we?"
Following him down to the captain's cabin, Anamaria said, in brisk French, "You'll give yourself away, you know that?"
"To who?" Sparrow asked, pushing open the door. "Oooh, this is nice."
The cabin was nice, light and airy and impeccably clean. They found the small chest easily and lifted it together.
"The captain's no fool," said Anamaria, "and just then you were not being entirely Swift."
Pausing by the door, Sparrow met her eyes, and dropped the fake accent. "Ana, love, you've saved me from the gallows, and I'll not forget it. But I'm prepared to risk a little to make your trip to London worthwhile - if Van Arps blows us all to smithereens it'll have been a waste. So if Jim Swift allows the far greater sense of Jack Sparrow to emerge once or twice, let it pass." He raised his eyebrows. "Savvy?"
She smiled. "I have missed you saying that."
"Good. Then let's get back to somewhere where I can say it all the time, eh?" He opened the door, and backed through it. "Let's hope the pirates take the bait," he said, back in the Yorkshire accent, evidently for the benefit of anyone who might have been loitering outside.
Anamaria, with her end of the chest, shook her head and wondered - not for the first time, and in all likelihood, not for the last - what had ever possessed her to chase Jack Sparrow to London and back.
On deck, they found Captain Harvey had surrendered the helm and had ordered the furling of the main topsail. The Rosemary was slowing, and from her stern a plain white banner flew above the Union Flag. For the next half an hour, Harvey strode around the ship giving more instructions, whilst Van Arps's vessel closed on them. Anamaria was given the job of uncoiling lines and generally making the usually impeccably neat Rosemary look a little uncared for, whilst Sparrow was told off to go below and conceal weapons and valuables under boards and in barrels.
Shortly, the lookout - equipped with a telescope - reported that the pirate ship was named Aruba. Harvey looked over his crew and his dishevelled craft, and sighed deeply.
"Well, Mr Swift," he said to Sparrow, "here is where we see whether or not the plan has worked."
"Fingers crossed, eh, cap'n?" said Sparrow.
"Indeed." Harvey filled his lungs and hailed the approaching buccaneers. "Ahoy there, Aruba! We'll heave to, should that be your wish."
Aboard the pirate ship, Anamaria could see a tall man in a very large hat and a green sash. He appeared to consult with others by his side, and shortly they heard the answer come floating back.
"Ja!"
Harvey turned to his crew. "You heard them. Heave to, gentlemen, and do pray for good luck."