walked to the foremast, a satchel slung round his shoulder. He climbed
the mast steadily. Almost all our crew were watching from various
hidden vantage points, several with rifles or pistols handy. Jim
reached the yardarm, paused, then swung the satchel in front of him and
put his hand inside. He’d have to clip his way through some of the
tangle first. On board Sirena there was no one in sight; like us, they
were staying in cover.
There was a sudden lurch of the two ships as an eddy caught us. I was
braced and swaying with the movement, hoping to God that Jim had a firm
handhold and that he wouldn’t drop a grenade. Suddenly from Sirena’s
wheelhouse came a babel of, voices, and a second later Hadley came
running on deck, in full view. He was laughing, and he carried a
sub-machinegun. Swiftly he raised it and fired a burst at the
foremast.
Jim toppled from the yardarm, falling with limbs aw slam with a dull
thud across the starboard bulkhead. If bullets hadn’t killed him, then
that fall would surely done so.
There was an angry roar from Esmerelda and guns began firing.
Hadley stepped back into the shadow, still laughing, and sprayed the
rest of the magazine across our decks.
Splinters flew on deck at the madman’s feet but he seemed to dance away
from the bullets and vanished into cover.
Hadley’s blast had shattered the rest of the wheelhouse windows.
I catapulted myself out of there towards Geordie and Campbell. Geordie
was speechless with rage and grief.
Campbell was snarling. “The goddam maniac!” “I’ll have his guts,”
Geordie said stiffly.
The firing from our crew died away and I saw faces staring, stunned by
the horror of what they’d seen. Two’men broke cover to go and collect
Jim’s body. No one shot at them.
Slowly I followed the others below for a council, and found Clare
waiting for us, in the passageway, white-faced and riggid. She came
and clung to me and I held her tightly, and for a moment the only
reality seemed to be my love for her.
“Dear God, Mike – Pop – what happened up there?” “Jim’s been killed,”
Campbell said shortly.
“They’ve got a raving maniac over there,” I told her.
“Hadley – he’s lost all control.” “I’ll kill him,”said Geordie.
“Geordie, wait! This isn’t a war and you’re not some bloodyininded
general who doesn’t care how many men he loses to the cause. We’ve
lost Danny and Jim – and Rex – and other men are wounded. We haven’t a
hope of getting aboard Sirena – we’d be massacred.” “Hell, what other
way is there?” he asked, still spoiling for a fight. There was a
growl of approval from most of our crew. I felt as they did, but I had
to stop them.
“Look, Hadley’s run mad and there’s no knowing what he’ll do next.
But I’ll -bet those Spaniards over there are even more scared of him
than we are. I think Ramirez will have him dealt with, for their own
safety.” Geordie’s face was still shuttered and frozen. He wasn’t
going to listen. Then Campbell said, “Don’t forget we’re drifting
now.
You slipped the anchor.” And that brought Geordie fully to his
senses.
He frowned, and it was an expression of worry that was far healthier
for all of us than his glare of bitter hatred. “Christ, yes!
We could drift right into that thing. We’ve got to get the foremast
right out of its housing, clear the shrouds, the lot. Dump it all
overboard. It’ll hamper Sirena if she tries to give chase – Taffy
Nick— His voice rose in command.
The men gathered round, grasping their weapons and waiting for him to
order them into battle. Instead he began to.
give firm orders for freeing Esmerelda, and they recognized the urgency
and sense in his voice. The fighting craze began to leave them all.
I turned to Clare. “Are you all right?” I asked quietly.
“Better now, darling.” But even now there wasn’t time for more than
that one quick moment of comfort. “Where are Paula and Mark?” I asked
her.
She nodded towards the saloon. “They’re still in there. He’s not too
seriously hurt. He was sitting in a chair the last time I looked in.
But he won’t give us any trouble, Mike. I’ve never seen him so
subdued.” “There are all the signs that Falcon will get rougher
soon.
I want you to get both of them up on deck – it’ll be safer thaw.
staying below. And stay with your father, Clare. Keep them all
together.” I kissed her and then she went into t without a word.
Geordie and the men had gone up on deck and oOn board Sirena there was
frantic activity as men struggled with equipment at the base of the
focastle, a similar scene was being enacted on our ship. There was
shooting, and of Hadley there was no sign. With had killed him
themselves. I had a brief glimpse of our launch, still attached and
dancing wildly astern strewn on deck, of Jim’s body being passed beloN
go forward and make myself useful.
And then Falcon blew.
There was a mighty roar as thousands of tons of seawater exploded into
superheated steam. A bright flickering shone on us and the sunlight
was dimmed as a pillar of steam ascended into the sky.
The first wave reached us in less than fifteen seconds. As I
staggered, grabbing for support, I saw it racing down towards
Esmerelda, silhouetted against the raging furnace. It was a monstrous
wave, rearing mast high, creamed with dirty grey spume and coming with
the speed of an express train.
I crouched on the open deck, trying to flatten myself into the
planking.
The wave broke against Esmerelda. She heaved convulsively and ground
against Sirena. There was a rending crash and I thought that both
ships must have been stove in. A flood of near scalding water washed
over the deck, and I writhed as I felt it in the stab wound in my
side.
Then the wave was past us and the ships dipped in the afterwash,
creaking and groaning in every timber. There were four more huge
waves, but none as high as the first. I staggered to my feet, feeling
the ships’ curious writhing motion on the water.
The waves had done what we had failed to do. Sirena was dipping and
bobbing in the water about fifty yards away from us. Esmerelda was
free, and she had no foremast at all. It had been plucked out by the
roots.
But every time Sirena rolled there was a crash which sent a shudder
through her. I stumbled to the side and looked down into the water.
Our foremast hung there, still tethered to Sirena’s mast by a cat’s
cradle of lines and spars. As I watched a surge of water sent it
slamming against her hull like a battering ram and she shivered from
stem to stern. She wouldn’t stand much more of that treatment.
I fell over a body lying in the scuppers. Nick lay there with blood
oozing from a wound in his forehead, but as I turned him over he
groaned and stirred and opened his eyes. He must have had a
constitution like an ox because, in spite of the massive contusion, he
began to struggle to his feet at once.
I shouted, “Let’s look for the others!” and he nodded. We turned and
then stood frozen in amazement as we caught a glimpse of Falcon.
There was land back there. Land that glowed a dull red shot with fiery
gold streaks and which surrounded the pit of Hell itself – a vast
incandescent crater which spewed forth red hot cinders and streams of
lava. Falcon was building an island once more.
The sea fought the new land but the land was winning.
Nothing qould stop the outpouring of that huge gaping red mouth, but
the sea did its best, pitting water against fire, and the result was an
inferno of noise. There was a great earsplitting hiss as though all
the engines of the world were letting off steam together, and under
that a rumbling bass from the depths of the chasm.
Great gouts of fire leapt up from the crater, half hidden behind the
red mist, and the water boiled as it encountered from the blazing heat
of the new Fonua Fo’ou. There was the sound of surf pounding along a
reef, but such surf as none of us had ever seen before. Mighty columns
of tephra, all the pent-up material that Falcon could fling into the
air from its huge maw, seethed and erupted in spasms, hurling ash magma
and boulders high into the sky. A hazy brown cloud of fragmentary
pumice hung over all, obscuring the sun Esmerelda was pitching as
helplessly as Sirena. Black figures moved on both decks, outlined