Pirate Latitudes

Up in the mainmast nest, Lazue was high above the clear blue water, and she could see the approach of the kraken plainly. Her heart was in her throat, for this was a legendary beast, the stuff of sailing songs and stories for the children of seafarers. But few had ever seen such a creature, and Lazue was not glad of the experience. It seemed to her that her heart stopped as she watched the thing approach again, with frightening speed, plowing up the surface as it came toward El Trinidad.

When it was very close, she saw the entire animal clearly. Its skin was a dead gray. It had a pointed snout, a bulbous body at least twenty feet long, and trailing behind, a tangle of long tentacles, like a Medusa’s head. It passed beneath the ship, not touching the hull, but the waves from the creature’s movements rocked the galleon. Then she saw it emerge on the other side and plunge down into the blue depths of the ocean. She wiped her sweating brow.

Lady Sarah Almont came on deck to find Hunter peering over the side. “Good day, Captain,” she said. He turned and gave her a slight bow. “Madam.”

“Captain, you are quite ashen. Is all well?”

Without replying, Hunter rushed to the other side of the aft deck and peered over the side again.

Enders at the tiller said, “You see it?”

“See what?” asked Lady Sarah.

“No,” Hunter said. “It dived.”

“We should have thirty fathoms beneath us,” Enders said. “That’s shoal for the thing.”

“What thing?” asked Lady Sarah, pouting prettily.

Hunter came back to her.

Enders said, “It may be back.”

“Aye,” Hunter said.

She looked from Hunter to Enders. Both men were drenched in cold sweat. Both were very pale.

“Captain, I am no sailor. What is the meaning of this?”

Enders, tense, exploded. “God’s blood, woman, we have just seen-”

“-an omen,” said Hunter smoothly, with a sharp look to Enders. “An omen, my lady.”

“An omen? Are you superstitious, Captain?”

“Aye, he’s very superstitious, he is,” said Enders, glancing out toward the horizon.

“It is plain,” said Lady Sarah, stamping her foot on the deck, “that you will not tell me what is amiss.”

“That’s right,” Hunter said, smiling. He had a charming smile, even through his pallor. He could be most exasperating, she thought.

“I know I am a woman,” she began, “but I really must insist-”

And at that moment, Lazue shouted, “Sail ho!”

Straining his eyes to the glass, Hunter saw square canvas directly astern, coming above the line of the horizon. He turned back to Enders, but the sea artist was already barking orders to run out all the canvas El Trinidad possessed. The topgallants were unreefed; the foresprit was run up, and the galleon gathered speed.

A warning shot was fired to the Cassandra, a quarter of a mile ahead. Soon after, the little sloop also let out her full canvas.

Hunter looked through the glass again. The sails on the horizon had not grown larger - but neither had they diminished in size.

“God’s blood, from one monster to another,” Enders said. “How do we fare?”

“We’re holding,” Hunter said.

“We must come off this course soon,” Enders said.

Hunter nodded. El Trinidad was running free before an easterly wind, but her course carried her too far west, toward the island chain to their right. Soon the water would be too shallow; they would have to alter course. On any ship, a course change meant at least a temporary loss in speed. Short-handed, the galleon would be especially slow.

Hunter said, “Can you wear her?”

Enders shook his head. “I dare not, Captain. We are too short-manned.”

Lady Sarah said, “What is the problem?”

“Quiet,” Hunter said. “Go below.”

“I will not-”

“Go below!” he bellowed.

She backed off, but did not go below. Standing some distance away, she watched what she viewed as a strange spectacle. The man Lazue came down from the rigging with catlike grace, almost feminine in his movements. It was with a shock that Lady Sarah noticed the press of the wind against Lazue’s blouse, clearly outlining breasts. So the gentle man was a woman! She had no time to ponder this, however, for Hunter was standing with Lazue and Enders, and all were engaged in fierce conversation. Hunter showed her the pursuing ship, and the island chain to the right. He pointed to the cloudless sky, and the sun, already on its downward arc as afternoon wore on. Lazue was frowning.

“What island will you make for?” she said.

“Cat,” Enders said, pointing to a large island down the chain.

“ Monkey Bay?” she asked.

“Aye,” Enders said. “ Monkey Bay.”

“Do you know it?” Hunter said.

“Yes, but it was years past, and this is a windward port. How is the moon?”

“Third quarter,” Hunter said.

“And there are no clouds,” Lazue said. “Pity.”

At this, they all nodded and shook their heads very gloomily. Then Lazue said, “Are you a gambler?”

“You know I am,” Hunter said.

“Then make your course change, and see if you can outrun the ship. If you do, well and good. If not, we will manage.”

“I trust your eyes,” Hunter said.

“Do,” Lazue said, and she scrambled back up the rigging to her lookout post.