Sea Robber by Tim Severin Read Free Book Online Page B

to forget. Hector could only wonder how much longer – whether months or years – the two corpses would continue to drift on the current with a ship for a coffin and an ice island as their catafalque.

 
FOUR

     
    T HE SKIN RASHES broke out a week later – dark-red blotches tinged with purple. They appeared first on the chest and then spread to the lower body, and they itched incessantly. The victims complained of muscle pains and violent, prolonged headaches. Initially there were just a handful of isolated cases, but quickly the malady spread to nearly one-third of the crew. The affected men felt lethargic and listless and could barely drag themselves about the vessel. The worst cases were too feeble even to clamber up on deck. They stayed slumped in their berths, scratching at the inflamed eruptions on their skins.
    ‘It’s ship fever,’ announced Cook. He had called a meeting to discuss the situation. Anyone with medical knowledge – including Hector and Dampier – had gathered in the captain’s cabin.
    The quartermaster, a tight-mouthed Manxman, spoke up for the crew in general. ‘We must get ashore as soon as possible. We’ve been at sea for too long.’ A seasoned mariner, he was familiar with the dangers of ship fever. If the sickness intensified, it could reduce an entire crew to wraiths, unable to work their vessel. The only known cure was to set the invalids on land and wait until the fever disappeared.
    Cook turned to his navigator. ‘Dampier, how far to the nearest refuge?’
    Dampier looked even more doleful than usual. He gestured vaguely at the chart spread on the table before them. ‘I am uncertain as to our exact position. The mainland is best avoided. If we encounter the Spaniards in our weakened state . . .’ His voice trailed away.
    ‘Then we steer for Juan Fernandez and restore ourselves there,’ said Cook firmly. Several of those present knew the island of Juan Fernandez from their previous venture in the Pacific. Uninhabited and 400 miles off the coast of South America, it was seldom visited by Spanish patrols.
    ‘Juan Fernandez is at least three weeks away,’ warned Dampier.
    ‘So we must hope the fever does not take a stronger grip,’ replied Cook brusquely.
    Hector intervened, ‘If I may make a suggestion . . .’
    ‘Yes, what is it?’ Cook snapped. He had been made irritable by the run of bad luck – heavy weather and now an outbreak of sickness.
    ‘My friend Jacques tells me he observed the same illness in the Paris prisons.’
    ‘And, as an ex-gaolbird, what does he suggest?’ Cook allowed a sarcastic edge to creep into his voice.
    ‘The prison doctors ordered all the cells washed with vinegar and the convicts’ bedding to be aired. I’ve noticed most of our fever cases are among those who sleep in the forward hold, where it’s airless and full of lice and vermin. Could we not allow in additional light and air to that area of the vessel?’
    The quartermaster was adamantly opposed. ‘It’s warm down there and the rats aren’t no trouble at all. We’d block up any openings the moment they were made.’
    ‘I have a better solution,’ said Cook tartly. ‘Issue three pints of burned rum for every man who presents himself for work. That should get them out on deck.’
    It was an effective solution, even if it failed to cure the sickness. The Bachelor’s Delight slowly clawed her way north, with her depleted crew often half-fuddled. Hector, however, heeded Jacques’ experience, and the four friends brought their own bedding up on deck. Despite the cold, drizzly weather they were anxious to spend as little time as possible in the stuffy, noxious accommodation. They were witnesses, therefore, to an event that no man aboard could have foreseen, though many had heard it rumoured.
    It happened shortly after midnight on the sixty-eighth day of their voyage. The Delight was making steady progress with a moderate breeze. The faint light of a new moon showed the small