“Sure. We’ll have to go through all that.”
They heard the outboard and then saw Ara round the poult. That dinghy rides as high in the bow as a canoe, Thomas Hudson thought.
“Get your junk together, Henry,” he said. “We’re going back to the ship.”
“I’m glad to stay aboard this thing if you want me to.”
“No. I want you on the ship.”
After Ara came alongside Thomas Hudson changed his mind.
“Stay here, Henry, a little while and I’ll send Ara for you. If they come out, get a frag into the skiff if they come alongside. Take this back hatch where you have lots of room. Use your head.”
“Yes, Tom. Thank you for letting me stay.”
“I’d stay and send you in. But I have to talk things over with Antonio.”
“I understand. Shouldn’t I fire on them when they are alongside before I throw the frag?”
“If you want. But keep your head down and then throw the frag in from the other hatch. And hold it all you can.”
He was lying in the lee scuppers passing his things to Ara. Then he lowered himself over the side.
“Is there too much water for you down there?” he asked Henry.
“No, Tom. It’s quite all right.”
“Don’t get claustrophobia and keep a good lookout. If they come in, let them get right alongside before you make your play.”
“Of course, Tom.”
“Think of it as a duck blind.”
“I don’t have to, Tom.”
Thomas Hudson was lying flat on the planking of the dinghy now.
“Ara will be back as soon as you ought to come in.”
“Don’t worry, Tom. I can stay here all night if you like but I’d like Ara to bring out something to eat and a little rum perhaps and some more water.”
“He’ll be back and pick you up and we’ll have a little rum on board.”
Ara pulled the cord on the motor and they headed for the ship. Thomas Hudson felt the frags along his legs and the weight of the niño across his chest. He put his arms around it and cuddled it and Ara laughed and leaned down and said, “This is a bad life for good children.”
XIX
They were all on board the ship now and it was cool in late afternoon wind. The flamingoes were gone from the flat although it was still uncovered. The flat was gray in the afternoon light and there was a flock of willets working over it. Beyond was the shallow water, the channels that could not be seen for the mud, and in the background were the keys.
Thomas Hudson was standing now on the flying bridge, leaning against a corner of it, and Antonio was talking to him.
“We don’t get a high tide until after eleven tonight,” Antonio said. “This wind is emptying the water right out of the bay and the flats and I don’t know what sort of depths we will have.”
“Will it float her or will we have to kedge off?”
“It will float her. But we haven’t any moon.”
“That’s right. That’s why we have these big springs.”
“She only made last night,” Antonio said. “She’s new. We didn’t see her last night because of the squall.”
“That’s right.”
“I sent George and Gil in to cut some brush to stake the channel so we can get out. We can always sound it with the dinghy and get stakes on the points.”
“Look. What I’d like to do when she floats is get in to where I can bring the searchlight and the .50’s to bear on the turtle boat and put somebody on board to blink to us if they come out in the skiff.”
“That would be ideal, Tom. But you can’t get in there in the dark. You could get in there with the searchlight and the dinghy sounding ahead of you and calling the soundings and staking. But nobody would come out then. They’d never come out.”
“I guess so, I’ve been wrong twice today.”
“You were wrong,” Antonio said. “But it was just chances. Like drawing a card.”
“What’s important is that I was wrong. Now tell me what you think.”