Euclid's Wall by Michael McCollum

Author:Michael McCollum [McCollum, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-625675-20-0
Publisher: Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Published: 2020-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

“Land ho!”

The cry reached Scott and Christa as they ate breakfast in his cabin on the twelfth day out of Houston Island.

“That will be Yucatan,” he announced before picking up one of the ceramic cups they had purchased in Texas. He sipped gingerly as the tea was nearly hot enough to burn his mouth.

“Shouldn’t you be on deck, doing whatever it is a captain does at landfall?”

He smiled. “One of the lessons of command is never let the crew see that you are worried. Finish your breakfast. There will be time enough to see later.”

Scott picked up a knife and fork and cut a piece off the slab of ham on his plate. He then scooped up the last of a fried egg before transferring both to his mouth. Christa bit into the Texas pastry called a sopaipilla on which she had spread honey.

It was good to have a full larder again.

The knock on his door came within sixty seconds of the call from the masthead.

“Enter.”

Midshipman Ralston opened the door hesitantly and stepped across the threshold. “Mr. Wingate’s compliments, Captain. He says the Yucatan Peninsula is in sight from the masthead off our starboard bow.”

“Anything unusual?”

“There are a couple of new volcanoes in view. Both are smoking. The big one we’ve been watching to port is over the horizon, but the lookout reports he can still see the smoke cloud.”

Scott nodded. That last volcano was the reason he’d altered course at dusk two days earlier as they crossed the Tropic of Cancer. Like its brethren on the north side of Cuba, the volcano on the western tip of the island was tall enough to be seen fifty miles out to sea. He wanted to stay well clear in the event it chose to clear its throat.

“Tell Mr. Wingate that we will hold this course for one more hour, then turn sou’sou’east for the Panama Strait. I will be on deck in half an hour.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

When the midshipman left, Christa said, “He’s growing up, isn’t he?”

Scott nodded. “His voice hardly cracks any longer when he speaks. I’m going to promote him to Junior Lieutenant when we get back."

“What about the rest of the crew? Any more muttering?”

“Some,” he said, reaching for a sopaipilla and the honey jar. “That should die down once we get through the strait and it becomes clear that the fastest way home is to get the job done.”

* * *

The morning they departed Houston Island, the mood aboard ship had been a merry one as they warped away from the stone quay. Once out in the middle of the harbor, Scott ordered topsails, staysails, and spanker set. At the command, the deck crew heaved on the halyards to raise the topsail yards and run the jib up the forestay.

It had been at that moment that the castle gave them a six gun salute. Since their artillery was still packed in boxes on deck, Scott had replied by dipping the Hampshire flag in response.

The topsails filled with wind while the spanker was being hoisted up the mast.

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