A Twist of Sand

I looked at the formidable stretch of coast about twenty miles south of the mouth of the Cunene -- what a fool I had been about the old man's dying words! Not south of north as I had thought. But south of -- and there it was plain on the older chart -- south of what the river used to be called, the Nourse. Twenty miles south of the Nourse lay the island, amongst the worst shoals and foul ground that could be charted anywhere. Most of them weren't anyway, not on the Admiralty map.

I studied Simon Peace's map in utter fascination. It was obvious that he had surveyed and charted the whole area himself. There, like a jewel set amid broken patterns of ore, was Curva dos Dunas. Guarded from the south by a needle-shaped rock (" ten feet at high tide, eight fathoms under "said the precise lettering in old Simon's hand) and protected farther south still by the Clan Alpine shoal, Curva dos Dunas was the most perfect hide-out anyone could wish for. North of it lay a series of shoals: the water shallowed with incredible abruptness from thirty-two to five fathoms in one place: on the landward side was a rock-strewn, hilly coast surmounted by high shifting dunes; a three-topped hill guarded a tiny beach marked "only sandy beach." This lay half at the back of the island, which seemed only a short distance from "the mainland itself. This mainland is known to sailors as the Skeleton Coast, a coastline beaten by high, thundering surf from the south-west; low, wind-blown scrub relieves the utter baldness of the dunes, and everywhere are the wicked shoals. The high dunes stretch northwards almost to the mouth of the Cunene (or Nourse as old Simon called it). The mouth itself is guarded by a most wicked constellation of shoals.

All this had been carefully charted, a labour which must have taken the old man years. The thought that he might have done it all in a sailing ship along that coast of death made me shudder and marvel at old Simon's intrepidity.

Curvas dos Dunas! The name rang like a bell.

I looked at the soundings and shuddered. It meant that I would have to go in through the shoals and pick off NP I as she lay there. "Discoloured water," said the chart. God! I knew what that meant: sand, stirred up from the shallows, and obscuring what little view there might be of channels. Channels! That was what I needed. There must be a channel in from the entrance -- was there such a thing as a harbour ? I checked the meticulous array of soundings. Seven, four, eight, fifteen, thirty fathoms -- all in a jumble. If I took Trout in there I'd have her aground before I could say NP I. How did the Germans know about Curva dos Dunas ? Well, that was probably easy enough to guess -- the Admiralty charts were based on German ones compiled during their long occupation of South West Africa. I remembered that a German warship had done a survey before World War I, and the thorough German mind must have tucked away information like Curva dos Dunas for all the intervening years.

I knew quite instinctively that that was where NP I was lying low. I looked at the map again. On the seaward side of the stark little beach where the neat lettering said "three-topped hill," were two words. They said simply: "see inset." So the old man had made another map of the island, too? Where the devil was it? A brief look through the other crumpled charts and papers in my grip assured me that it was not there. I looked at the stiff parchment map: no, there was no inset. True, the chart would take me there, but on that wicked coast I would need more than just that. For by now the conviction was firm in my mind that I would take Trout in, whatever the cost.

The chart, laid out on the tiny table, crumpled itself and automatically I straightened it.

Then I saw.

The thick parchment had been split on the lower right-hand corner. With trembling fingers I felt. They met another edge of thin paper. Scarcely able to control my fingers and dreading that I should tear it, I slipped it out. I could have wept for joy. Silently I blessed old Simon. Curva dos Dunas! -- a large-scale map with the entrance channel close to the ten-foot rock which I had first seen on the other chart.