37

Powerless

Southern Bahamian Islands

Thursday, 6 September 1888

In the daylight I found two items in a stowage locker in Sokolov’s “navigation bridge”—for lack of a better term—that proved quite useful. The first was a telescope, which I immediately issued to Absalom, who possessed the youngest and sharpest eyes. The second was a general chart of the region. Kovinski, Rork, and I studied it as Corny steered. Woodgerd was aft, resting. Cynda was gazing behind us.

I was going to try to deduce our position but was distracted by marks on the chart. A rhumb line was noted in pencil, emanating from a circled point off Haiti’s northern coast, right about where we exited. It progressed across the chart two hundred miles west-northwesterly to a circled point in the tiny archipelago of reef islets south of Ragged Island in the Bahamas. The line then ran straight north-northwesterly to Nassau. A third leg of the line left Nassau in a northeasterly course for a hundred miles, to a circled point out in the ocean, thirty miles from the end of Eleuthera Island. Circled points are used by navigators as approximate position fixes, or as a rendezvous.

Sokolov’s plan was right there, before us.

“Well, I’ll be damned. His first target wasn’t going to be in Russia, gentlemen,” I said. “The cable ship would meet him here, then tow him from Haiti to . . .” I peered at the chart. “Santo Domingo Cay, south of Ragged Island in the southern Bahamas. But look, from that place this rhumb line crosses over islands on its way to Nassau, so I presume that would be the course of the aerial warship. It would be launched from the cable steamer and fly north across the Bahamas.”

“Attackin’ Nassau?” asked Rork. “It’s British, not Rooskie. Why there?”

Kovinski nodded. “For practice, Rork. A dress rehearsal attack on Nassau at night, to make sure things worked correctly. No one would know the perpetrator or the method, but everyone would be panicked. Later, after Sokolov attacked Saint Petersburg, people would know who attacked Nassau. He would show the European monarchs his ability to humiliate them, to hit their empires everywhere. Sokolov hated them all, including Queen Victoria.”

“Ah, so then after he did Nassau, the bugger’d sail his airship nor’east an’ meet up with his stolen steamer at this last place on the chart, out in the ocean. Dicey move, that. Tryin’ to find a ship in the dark in the ocean an’ get winched down to it.”

“Yes, but if the ship shined electrical lights up into the air, like a lighthouse, you could see it from quite a distance at this altitude,” I said, adding, “and then, once they get secured to the ship, they steam to the Baltic. But that steamer doesn’t carry enough coal to get to the Baltic in one run. He’d have to re-coal the cable ship, and maybe re-arm his war machine, somewhere in the European Atlantic islands. Azores or Canaries.”

Kovinski sighed. “I have more work to do. Okhrana must discover his accomplices in Europe. This came very close to happening. Too close.” He looked up expectantly at me. “I must get to Nassau as quickly as possible, Commander, and obtain steamer passage home. So . . . where are we now?”

I had very little idea as to where we were, but one does not admit that to the crew.

“Approximately here,” I said, pointing to the area near the Ragged Islands. “We must have gone past Great Inagua in the night, our speed being faster than I thought. We’ve been steering northwest, but I think the wind must have more easterly in it now and has given us far more leeway than I anticipated. That we haven’t seen land in the two hours since sunrise means that we have to be in this area between Cuba to the south, Great Inagua to the east, Acklins Island to the north, and the Ragged Islands to the west. It also means that we should see one of these places soon. Once I get a good position fix, I can alter course and we can then motor to Nassau.”

“Aye, an’ remember this thing’ll surely cause one hell o’ a commotion at Nassau,” said Rork. “Nary a way ta keep her—o’ us, neither—under wraps once we arrive.”

It was a valid observation. I hadn’t thought that far out in advance. I was beginning to do just that when my cogitation was interrupted by two events.

Absalom shouted out, “Reefs ahead on the port bow. I think it’s the southern end of the Great Bahamas Bank, sir. Yes! Look over there where the clouds are clearing, abaft the starboard beam—I think that is Santo Domingo Cay!”

We were at the second circled point marked on the chart. I searched for the cable ship, thinking they might be using this place as a secondary rendezvous with Sokolov. I saw nothing on the ocean, not even a fishing smack.

Absalom came aft and showed me on the chart. “That makes the reef ahead of us South Head. I’ve sailed the deep water in this area.” He shook his head and looked overboard at those razor-sharp coral teeth scattered in front of us as far as the eye could see. “But never up in the reefs. Very dangerous area, sir. Only a few channels through here. Coral heads and reefs are everywhere for hundreds of miles to the west, and for about fifty miles up to the north.”

The appearance of fixed objects below allowed me to ascertain our speed and drift. I calculated quickly. Courtesy of Sokolov’s motor-driven propeller, our speed was somewhere around twenty knots, faster than the fastest ship in the U.S. Navy. We would cross the fifty miles of reefs in a little over two hours.

“No problem, son. We’re above those reefs and will be beyond them by noon.” I called forward, “Corny, alter course to due north. Once we get to the Exumas, we’ll follow that chain of islands toward Nassau.”

Corny replied in a comically false Irish accent, “Aye, sir. Due north’s easy to find. Methinks I’ve got the hang o’ this here thing now. Next stop: civilization.”

Smiles broke out. For the first time in a long time, I felt optimism. We would make it. And Rork and I would have quite a story to tell, and this warship to show, Commodore Walker and Admiral Porter. That might make them forget we were absent beyond our official leave. The tragedies and heartache we’d endured on the search for Luke Saunders would have at least some mitigation. Our smiles were short-lived, however.

For right then, the electrical motor chose to stop.

***

“I can’t steer!” yelled Corny. “She’s going sideways. Won’t turn into the wind!”

Kovinski dashed aft and looked at the battery, checking the India rubber–clad cable connections. He held his hands up in a helpless gesture. They were still connected. The battery had expired.

We were a mile past the edge of the reef by then. I studied the saw-toothed coral under us to determine our course and drift. The wind was in control now, blowing us west northwest. We could only steer downwind. Away from Nassau, away from the inhabited islands of the Exumas, and toward the vast desolate stretches of the Great Bahamas Bank.

“Steer as much northerly as you can, Corny. If we can reach the southern end of Andros Island we can find a beach.”

“Not many beaches down that way, sir,” said Absalom dejectedly. “And no one lives down there, either.”

Kovinski, his imperturbability shed, muttered something that sounded like “Blay.” I learned later that meant “damn” in Russian, a remarkably benign curse considering our predicament. Rork had no such civility and unloaded a combination of English and Gaelic in the direction of the motor.

“Do the best you can, Corny,” I repeated. “Absalom, kindly return to your bow watch and sing out if you see a ship or a boat.”

“Too shallow for ships here, sir.” Our young crewman was still shaking his head, his tone woefully maudlin. “Won’t see any boats either—nobody sails this far into the reefs.”

It was a struggle to keep from using some sailor oaths myself. Instead, I calmly said, “Just keep watch, Absalom, and you can forgo additional comments about how deserted this area may be. We fully understand that now, but we’ve no choice at this point.”

Rork put his hand on the youngster and flashed a grin, while steering him forward. “Aye, lad. Now’s the time to get tough, not sad. This crew ain’t done in, nary by a long shot. Oh, me’s seen far worse than this wee little setback.”

Absalom clearly had trouble imagining that. “Really?”

“Oh, boyo, did me ever tell ya about the time when dear ol’ Commander Wake an’ me was stuck in a slave box in the middle o’ nowhere in the Sahara desert o’ Africa? Aye, we was surrounded by the most evil-eyed bunch o’ cut-throatin’ buggers I ever did see. Now that was a dicey deal! No? Well, let’s go to the bow, an’ while you have a gander at the ocean through that glass, I’ll tell ye the tale.”

As they moved forward, Kovinski leaned close to me. “Without the assistance of the motor, we have slowed down quite a bit, have we not?”

I checked the reefs again. He was right. “Yes, Major. I’d guess we’re doing about ten knots now.”

“And those clouds I see on the horizon where we are headed, they are a storm, are they not?”

The clouds around us had gradually been getting thicker and darker. The cloud line on the horizon was black and too big for a thunderstorm. Rork and I had already seen it and knew what it meant, but hadn’t said anything to the others. I saw that Absalom had too, but had refrained from scaring anyone.

“Yes, that cloud line on the western horizon is a storm. Looks like it could be a bad one and it’s coming this way.”

“And it appears that we are losing height above the reefs, am I correct?”

Corny had brought that to my attention, but like the storm, I hadn’t mentioned it to the others. “Yes, the bullet holes in the gas bag above us have been allowing the hydrogen to slowly leak out. We’ve been losing altitude for some time now.”

Kovinski’s jaw tightened. “Then it would appear we are in extreme peril—and powerless to do anything about it.”

“Yes, Major. It’s out of our control now.”