Chapter 12

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.