He opened his eyes, looked around, saw grass, tree trunks, leaves, and a tow-headed boy, wide and squat, his mouth open in shockĭonna wondered if maybe some people in search of a really private place to go parking might not ride by, but she couldn't imagine that even the horniest of local kids would want to neck at the old town dump. He moved an arm, rolling toward it, thrust with all the strength in his body, and levered himself up on one elbow. Yeah? He swiped his straight dark hair back from his eyes. Was this the day? He took a last drag on the smoke and stabbed it out in the aluminum ashtray. Death had reached its cold hand out for him more than once the Mall in London his own home Red October some nameless hill in Colombia. It was less than a mile an hour, that the ships made in this fashion, at the cost of the complete exhaustion of the boats' crews, but at least it postponed the time when the Gibraltar current would carry them to leeward, and similarly gave more chance for the longed-for southerly wind-two hours of a southerly wind was all they wished for-to waft them up to the Mole.įor his part, Ryan wondered why he wasn't shaking. That was backbreaking, exhausting labour, the men at the oars tugging and straining, dragging the oar blades through the water, while the towlines tightened and bucked with superhuman perversity and the ships sheered freakishly from side to side. The Indefatigable no less than her convoy had lowered boats, and the helpless ships were now all in tow. His orders to his reluctant convoy had been enforced by flag and gun signals, for no short-handed merchant ship relished the prospect of the labour Pellew wished to be executed. Gibraltar had to be revictualled-Spain had already marched an army up for the siege-and he dared not risk being carried past his destination. So that Pellew was not unnaturally anxious about his convoy of grain ships from Oran. In a calm like this it was not unusual for a ship to be carried far through the Straits, past the Rock of Gibraltar, and then to have to beat for days and even weeks to make Gibraltar Bay. There is almost always a slight current setting inwards into the Mediterranean from the Atlantic, and the prevailing winds blow in the same direction. It was not a comfortable situation for the Indefatigable, but that was not because of the blazing sun which softened the pitch in the deck seams. The sea was like a silver shield, the sky like a bowl of sapphire, with the mountains of Africa on the one hand, the mountains or Spain on the other as dark serrations on the horizon. It was a day of glassy calm in the Straits of Gibraltar. 'You were the one who warned me to stay clear -' Have a good journey! the tech called as he left.
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