Noble Intentions

11. Of Possibilities

"Captain, sir," came a voice close above me, and I opened my eyes to darkness. Then, as I rolled my head on the pillows, the voice came again, hollow and resonant, "Captain, sir."

I realised, sat and fumbled my hands across the bulkhead toward the sound, finding the voice-pipe funnel and replying into it, "Yes, Master Jenson."

"Sir, we are now underway, pulled by mainsails and a jib."

"Hurrah! Well done, Master. You need some rest. I shall be directly up."

I pulled back the curtains from the windows and the bed to find moonlight flooding through the quarters. Then, seeing the couch empty, memories of last evening filled my mind as I dressed, causing me to stiffen. Blowing a deep breath, I shifted it up and fastened my breeches over it, forcing my thoughts to matters of the ship.

After donning my waistcoat, I took the watch from its pocket, opened it and held it to the moonlight. Near two of the morning – almost five hours sleep. As I stepped onto the quarterdeck, I congratulated Jenson again, adding, "You should have called me earlier, Master."

"Too busy, sir. We have just now settled onto a course of north by west, half north in the coastal eddy, the line of islets on the horizon to port, well lit by the moon. We are now making a bit below five knots under course, top and jib."

"Only five knots?"

"According to my DR, we need no more, sir." He pointed upward. "Thus, the reefed top and furled gallant. Dawn should find us east of Cayo Bizcayno."

"Excellent! And the star should confirm. Head below and sleep. I will call you as we approach the entrance."

"Thank you, sir. Except for those needed here, aloft and on the pumps, I have sent the hands to rest – Bosun, as well." He pointed at the eastern sky. "I anticipate no need for sail adjustments until daylight."

I smiled at him. "You leave me nothing to do."

"You carry the burden of the ship and all aboard her, sir. That is more than sufficient. We need you rested and with a clear mind for all the decisions yet to be made."

After he had descended, I spoke with the helmsmen and the log keeper, "We can dout the compass and transit board lanterns; the moon high overhead gives sufficient light, and it will remain with us until past sunrise."

The log keeper asked, "How'd you know this, sir?"

"From my study of the movements of the earth and of all beyond it. There are patterns known since antiquity, but it is only in recent times that we have found better ways to measure these, and from them, to know more accurately where we are."

"So, you know where we are jest by lookin' ta the moon."

I chuckled. "Nay, lad. Would that it was so, but it requires measuring the angle between it and a known star, then finding that star's position in the lists and cyphering where it would be at this instant. Then, do the same with the moon's position, and from these, calculate where we are."

"Oh! So, how'd you know we's got the moon's light the whole of the night?"

"It moves in a known pattern. Full moon was at sunset two days past – three days now – and it set with the sunrise. Each day, it rises and sets about an hour later, so, two days since full, it rose about two hours after last night's sunset."

"Oh! And it'll set two hours past sunrise."

"Exactly, lad. And each day, it grows smaller until we see the sliver of the new moon."

"From it spinnin' to show its light and dark sides."

"Nay, not from spinning, lad. As it circles the earth, the bright part we most easily see is that which is lit by the sun. At full moon, the earth is directly between them, and we see the moon fully lit. At new moon, they are both on the same side of the earth, so the sun lights the side of the moon that is away from us, and we see only a sliver of light."