DIFFICULT NAVIGATION.
"Three hours ago, which means that the Islander is about thirty miles
ahead of us," said Washburn, when I went into the pilot-house.
"She must have put in somewhere, and it was not at Mosquito Inlet," I
replied. "I don't quite understand it."
"I think I do," added Washburn, as he called in Buck Lingley and gave
him the wheel.
He led the way to the chart on the shelf, upon which a light was cast
from the binnacle. He pointed out Matanzas Inlet, at the southern point
of Anastasia Island, and fifteen miles south of St. Augustine.
"She went into that inlet," said Washburn.
"But there isn't water enough in it to float the Islander," I replied.
"I think she did not go in far, if at all. The wind was off shore
yesterday, and under the lee of the land there is no sea of any
consequence, except what is caused by the rollers. If the captain of
that schooner has given the time correctly, it shows that the Islander
went to sea about an hour and half before we did. That will put her
thirty miles ahead of us," Washburn explained; and his reasoning seemed
to be correct.
"The Islander put in somewhere, or she would have been two hundred and
forty miles farther on the way to Key West than we are," I added. "She
did not stand off to sea, as there was not the least need of that, for
the wind has been off shore since we came out of the St. Johns."
"I am confident we are right. Now the question is, shall we chase her?"
asked Washburn. "She is thirty miles ahead of us; and we have nearly
three hundred and fifty miles to make to reach Key West."
"There is no wind to-night to help us, and it will take as much coal to
get the two extra knots out of the Sylvania as it will to make the
ordinary and regular ten knots an hour, to say nothing of the wear and
tear of boiler and machinery," I replied, musing.
"But the Islander will get to Key West before Cornwood does, if she
puts in there, and we may miss her altogether."
"I should like to get near enough to her to watch her movements," I
added. "I think if we crowd the Sylvania for six or seven hours we
shall get a sight of her. I am inclined to hurry her."
"I am decidedly in favor of it, for she may escape her owner altogether
if we don't follow her up."
"Eight bells! All the port watch!" called Buck Lingley, who had been
relieved at the wheel.
I went on deck, and when Ben Bowman came up I told him I wanted him to
give the vessel all the steam she would carry. There was a light breeze
from the westward, but not enough to help the speed of the steamer, and
we did not put on any sail. I took my place at the wheel while Hop
Tossford was the lookout on the topgallant forecastle.
In a short time the screw began to buzz, and when Buck and Dyer Perkins
went below, after heaving the lead, the Sylvania was making eleven
knots. I expected her to do better than this. At four o'clock in the
morning, when the starboard watch were called, we were off Indian River
Inlet. Nothing had been said about trying the fish since we left
Jacksonville. There was not water enough in Indian River to float the
steamer, and I gave up all thought of renewing the exciting sport we
had had in these waters when we came over from the St. Johns. At four
o'clock I turned in and slept till eight.
I found the barometer had been dropping again, and the wind came from
the eastward, which was not a good way to have the wind while we were
off the coast. While I was eating my breakfast, the Sylvania came up
with Jupiter Inlet, where Washburn changed the course to south,
three-quarters east. The log-slate showed that we had made eleven and a
half knots. I figured up the distances, and concluded that the Islander
must be about twelve miles ahead of us. I did not give the other
steamer the credit of making more than ten knots an hour.
The wind had freshened considerably since I left the deck early in the
morning, and I ordered all sail to be set. Soon after the log showed
that we were making twelve knots, which was about the best speed we had
ever made. We kept her going at this rate till noon, and I had the
wheel during the time. In the course of the forenoon we had visits from
all the passengers, but the wind was raw and cold, and they did not
remain long on deck.
"Sail, ho!" shouted Hop Tossford, from the topgallant forecastle.
"Where away?" I asked, looking ahead, though as it was not clear I saw
nothing distinctly.
"Sharp on the weather bow," replied the lookout.
I looked in the direction indicated, and could just make out a sail. I
examined it through the glass, and was satisfied it was the Islander. I
had calculated that we ought to be up with her by noon; but it was
evident to me that her captain had been hurrying her, as I did not
anticipate he would do. I soon assured myself that she was not on the
same course as the Sylvania. She was headed at least a point more to
the westward. We had on all the sail it was prudent to carry, and Ben
Bowman declared the engine was doing its best.
"We have been gaining on her every hour," I said to the mate. "If we
keep on we shall overtake her in a few hours, though she is making her
best speed."
"But she is going more to the westward than we are," added Washburn,
looking at the chase through the glass.
"I think she is making a mistake, for I should not care to be mixed up
among those shoals if it comes on bad weather; and it looks like it
now."
"The wind is hauling more to the southward, and I shall look for a fog
before night."
We kept on our course as laid down in the Coast-pilot, without regard
to the Islander. I called the passengers at two in the afternoon, when
we again changed our course to south, quarter west, to show them the
Islander. She was still headed a point farther to the westward than we
were. As our course from this point to Key West was on the
circumference of a quarter-circle, I supposed Captain Blastblow only
intended to take the shortest way by keeping inside of us, and I did
not alter anything. But I was confident that he would have to run
outside again in order to avoid the shoals of Virginia and Biscayne
Keys. I had studied the chart carefully every day, and had found places
where there was not more than four, or even more than two, feet of
water at low tide, as it was at this time.
At four o'clock the Islander was not more than a mile to the south of
us, though she was two miles nearer shore than we were. We were abreast
of the light-house at Cape Florida, and I expected to intercept the
Islander when she came out from the dangerous shoals, rendered doubly
dangerous by the threatening weather. But the other steamer gave no
indications of changing her course, and I soon saw her close to the
light-house.
"She seems to be behaving very strangely, Captain Alick," said the
mate, as we were watching her from the pilot-house.
"It seems to me that she is losing time. There are shoals and rocks
just to the southward of her," I replied.
"There she goes about!" exclaimed Washburn, as she pointed her bow to
the eastward. "I think we had better take in all the sail we carry, for
we have only a mile of southing to make while the other steamer makes
two miles of easting."
All hands were called for this duty, for the wind was coming heavier
and heavier every minute. The mate and the four men made quick work of
it. The Islander carried no sail, though her people must have seen the
Sylvania two hours before.
"I am glad Captain Blastblow has come to his senses, and is standing
out from the shore," I added. "About five miles to the eastward of the
line of Keys, which form part of a circle, from Cape Florida to Pickle
Reef, more than forty miles, is a series of reefs and rocks. There is a
passage between the reefs and the Keys, through which vessels of light
draught may pass. But I believe in having plenty of sea room when the
weather looks as it does now."
When we were abreast of Cape Florida the Islander suddenly put up her
helm, and stood off to the south-west. This movement indicated that she
had no intention of coming any nearer to the Sylvania. I was perplexed
at this change of course, because I could hardly conceive of such a
thing as Captain Blastblow taking the inside route in that threatening
weather. There was nothing to protect his vessel from the heavy seas,
and in some places he would have hardly water enough to float the
Islander.
In about another hour Fowey Rocks were between the two vessels. There
was no way of getting out of the inside passage except that by which he
went in, or at the southerly end of the series of reefs.
"It looks to me just as though the Islander wanted to keep out of our
way," said Washburn, when we had settled the question as to what the
Islander intended to do.
"That had not occurred to me before," I replied. "Why should she try to
avoid us?"
"That's what bothers me. I can't see the least reason for such conduct
on the part of her captain," added the mate.
"It looks to me like very risky business to go into such a place as
that with a south-east gale threatening," I continued, as I went to the
shelf to find a chart of the Florida reefs, which I had carefully
studied. "There is one place where the Islander will have only six feet
of water at low tide, perhaps seven and a half or eight at this time of
tide. I think she will have to get in behind one of the Keys, and
anchor to wait for the tide to rise."
"I hope nothing will happen to the Islander. I suppose Captain
Blastblow knows what he is about, and probably has a pilot for the
inside of the reefs," said Washburn.
"If it was good weather, it would be another thing, and I should not
have hesitated to follow him, for we have the Coast Pilot, and the best
charts of the Coast Survey."
"It is getting to be very rough out here," added Washburn, as the
Sylvania began to roll heavily in the billows that swept in from the
open sea. Our passengers were taking their afternoon naps, but they
soon found out that we were in an angry sea. I went into the cabin to
comfort them. Mrs. Shepard wanted to know if we could not put in at
some port, as we had done on Thursday.
"There is no port we can enter before we reach Key West, madam. With
the wind as it is now, and blowing hard, I am afraid to go any nearer
the reefs than we are now."
"I hear that a great many vessels are wrecked on the Florida Reefs,"
added the lady.
"That is quite true, Mrs. Shepard; and for that reason I shall not
approach them any nearer than we are now. As long as we have plenty of
sea room, I do not apprehend any particular danger."
The rain began to fall about six, and the weather was so thick we could
no longer see the Islander. The last time we had seen her she must have
been some miles farther to the northward than the Sylvania, and I was
satisfied that Captain Blastblow had not gained anything by going
inside of the reefs. As I made it out from the chart, he had twice been
obliged to go to the eastward over two miles, in order to keep in the
deepest water. I suspected that he had been aground, and had to wait
for the tide; for at dark, when we saw the steamer for the last time,
we were at least five miles farther south.
"We will keep her going as briskly as the heavy sea will permit, until
about midnight; and then we will ease off till daylight. Then I think
we shall get another sight of the Islander," I said to the mate, as he
was about to turn in at eight.
"I don't think there is any danger of her getting ahead faster than we
do," replied the mate, with a yawn. "I believe I shall sleep well, if I
don't get pitched out of my berth."
He was leaving the pilot-house, when the distant report of a gun came
to our ears. I concluded at once that the Islander was in trouble.