WeTried Translations
Translator: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Wind and a Cluster of Stars
Chapter 24
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Africa's Jewel, Pursuit
44. Africa's Jewel
How was I supposed to explain this?
If these people had done this kind of trade often, they would have offered their goods on their own. But it did not seem common for them either, and we could not communicate...
"What am I supposed to do to make them understand?"
I muttered under my breath, frustrated.
Both the mate and the navigator kept their mouths shut, not knowing what to do.
"Navigator, you said you've dealt with this before. How did you handle it then?"
"Back then... the village was bigger than this one. And there was someone who knew a little of the language."
He said it awkwardly while chewing meat.
"Hmm... there has to be a way... Ah!"
As I looked around the dim interior, I spotted something unusual.
On a wooden shelf hanging from ropes on the wall, next to a mask carved from some unknown wood, sat something that looked like a lamp.
I carefully stood and brought it over.
It was a lamp made from a walrus tusk.
The tusk had been hollowed out and filled with hardened animal fat, with a strip of cloth sticking up as a wick.
A lamp made by pouring oil into the tusk of a large walrus. It was truly unique.
A loop of copper wire had been fixed around the middle so it could be hung.
I tapped it with my fingers and turned it over in my hands.
"Ha!"
Only then did the old man seem to understand what we wanted.
"@#＄＄#^#＄@#!!"
He called the people outside into the house.
Then he gave them instructions, and several people came in at his call.
The first to arrive was an older woman.
She felt the beads and daggers in the box, then started taking things out.
She only removed about half the daggers, but she took all the colored beads and hairpins.
The native woman pointed at the empty space and said something. It seemed she wanted more of that, so I quickly told a sailor outside to bring more strings of beads.
As the sailor ran to the ship, a young man soon brought over four or five elephant tusks.
They were quite large, as if they had grown with an elephant all the way into old age.
"Right. This is it."
Ivory was naturally very valuable, with countless uses.
Fine tableware, ornaments, and more. Its smooth white texture gave off an elegant sheen.
And because it came from elephants, which were not easy to come by, it was even more expensive.
I was given five tusks like that.
"But this still isn't enough."
I thought for a moment, drew a large circle in the sand floor, and put the tusks inside it.
They filled about one-third of the circle.
That was my way of showing it wasn't enough.
I had already made a solid profit, but I had no idea how they would react.
So if the old man showed any displeasure, I planned to end the trade right there.
"@#＄^@."
But when the sailor brought one more box of beads, the old man gave another order.
-Click-clack
What they brought in with that rattling sound was tortoiseshell.
Tortoiseshell had a clear, distinct feel and a smooth texture. You ground down the shell of a sea turtle, heated it until it softened, shaped it, then let it harden. Eyeglass frames, combs, bowls, and hairpins all used it, and it was quite expensive.
"Hehe, this is exciting."
Amy grinned openly, unable to hide her delight.
Tortoiseshell was used in many crafts, almost like a semi-precious material.
They gave us eleven pieces of it.
"What should we do? We've already secured a good profit, but should we ask for more?"
"We can't read what they're thinking. This is really difficult."
"No. We end it here. If we get greedy, we might lose even this."
"Yes, Captain."
I held out the box to the old man, and we had the sailors carry the ivory and tortoiseshell back to the ship.
We stood up.
It was a quiet way of signaling that we were leaving, and I offered the old man a handshake.
He showed no particular reaction and accepted it calmly.
...
"Ah, so bright."
The moment we stepped out of that cave-dark house, sunlight reflecting off the white sand stung my eyes.
It was the same sun, yet London and Africa felt like they shone under different skies.
"Oh, wow."
A large lizard was sleeping in the palm grove behind the house.
It lay on the ground with its tongue hanging out, and its body was missing...
Looks like the meat we ate earlier was lizard.
The severed head of that big green lizard looked peacefully asleep, and it gave me a strange feeling.
"Still tasted good."
Zenon smacked his lips again.
...
"Ha, look at that."
Amy swallowed a laugh.
When we looked toward the ship, our sailors were already better traders than we were.
About fifteen natives had gathered around the ship, bartering baskets of fresh fruit, coconuts, and red meat wrapped in broad leaves.
In return, the sailors gave out handfuls of iron nails used on ships, copper wire, and small bundles of wire.
"I was an idiot. I should've bought things like that."
"We have enough materials to spare, so we can't really blame the sailors.
And whatever they trade for belongs to the ship anyway."
Zenon shrugged.
-Crack
Shells snapped underfoot in the white sand.
"It's a beautiful place. London is always foggy and rainy."
"A sky this clear!"
Amy was from London too, and she seemed to love this blue sky.
Pure white clouds rising past the horizon, clear blue waves rolling in, and green palm leaves fluttering in the wind.
Amy and I ran along the white beach, dodging the incoming surf.
The cat hopped around too like a dog, trying not to get wet.
Whenever a wave pulled back, we rushed toward the sea, then dashed away at the last second.
We played like that until we were out of breath.
"Hahahaha!"
Seeing so much as a navigator, far more than I ever could on the British Isles, made me truly happy.
...
As the waves rolled in, small shells tumbled around, and now and then clumps of sargassum washed onto the shore.
All kinds of things came in with those waves, and one of them caught my eye.
Something vivid in color lay half-buried in wave-thrown sand. When the water pulled back, I ran over and grabbed a handful from that spot.
As the next wave came in, I let the sand wash out of my hand, and a burning red lump remained in my palm.
"It's coral."
Zenon muttered when he saw it.
This gem, formed deep in the sea, often broke loose in storms or tidal surges and washed ashore like this.
After so long in sand and surf, it had naturally worn into a rounded shape.
"So pretty..."
Amy stared blankly at the oval piece, about the size of a coin.
It was not as valuable as a fine pearl, but it was still semi-precious, with a vivid, fiery red color.
After returning to the ship, I made something I'd had in mind from the moment I saw it.
Sitting in the sail's shade, I took a piece of tortoiseshell and carved it into a long finger-sized shape, then polished it smooth and even with a fine whetstone.
Then I split the soft, rounded coral in half with a fretsaw.
"What are you doing, Captain?"
"Ah."
A deckhand asked while smoking cheap, harsh tobacco.
He always smoked cheap tobacco, and he always looked up to Zenon.
"Colton, bring me a chunk of resin."
I lightly melted the resin chunk he brought in the lamp flame, spread it over the flat cut side of the coral, and fixed it onto the tortoiseshell.
That made a pretty, high-class hairpin.
"You're quite good at this."
I gave it to the person it would suit best.
Amy, who had been with me since my early sailing days when I owned less than nothing.
As poor as I was, she was poor too, so she had always gone without proper jewelry or luxuries.
That red coral hairpin looked perfect on her.
"Thank you, Captain!"
With that, Amy now had every bright color I could imagine.
After that, Amy always wore the tortoiseshell hairpin.
45. Pursuit
May 11, 5:00 p.m.
A little rain fell during the night.
But it was only a brief drizzle, so by now it was hard to tell whether it had any effect at all.
The sun rose again and dried everything on the ship.
If you checked the rigging, there were faint traces of dampness, but even those dried quickly in the dry air.
Even Crab in the gap at the bow looked like it had suffered, its shell dried pale and chalky.
This species seemed to survive anywhere through sheer vitality and adaptability.
The crab, once coin-sized, had grown a little bigger. If it tucked itself into a gap in the rail ornament and blocked the opening with its front claws, it fit perfectly.
I felt sorry for it, coming all the way from the cold North Sea to this hot ocean.
Even so, it was still a common crab, and breakwaters in London and Amsterdam were full of them, but this one had stayed with me longer than any sailor.
Back on the old commercial Balsa, all the crew had been dismissed when the ship started leaking, but this crab was the only crew member that had transferred over from that time.
Not that it drew wages. Symbolically speaking.
I scooped up some seawater and poured it into the crab's hole.
On calm days, waves never reached all the way to the bow, so it would just keep drying out otherwise.
The weather was clear, with wide open visibility.
Riding a fair wind, Red Tea was passing Sao Tome and heading for a landing point south of Benguela.
Maybe we'd arrive the day after tomorrow?
Now and then, fleets passed near or far.
Most true ocean-going ships were sturdy large galleons or fast clippers.
Maybe those ships traded with far-off regions, India, East Africa, Arabia.
...
I looked over the ivory and tortoiseshell we got yesterday.
The hold might have looked empty, but these valuables were worth more than a full cargo bay.
The ivory went into sacks, and the tortoiseshell was stacked by shape and tied with cord.
"How much will this sell for..."
It couldn't compare to gold, but it should still fetch a tremendous price.
My pocket watch read around 5:30.
I came up to the deck to check whether everyone was at their posts.
The wind was favorable, everything was running smoothly, and it was satisfying to see all the equipment and sails working properly without a single gap.
That was all thanks to Zenon, the boatswain, managing and driving the sailors one by one in meticulous detail, curses included.
Honestly, how could we sail without him?
As a navigator, Zenon had never disappointed me.
He never demanded high wages either, and he seemed to enjoy this free life.
In truth, nobody gave him trouble for smoking or drinking.
That was how he liked it.
"Colton, what's that?"
Toward distant land we could barely make out, there was a tiny speck like dust.
At my words, Colton climbed to the mast top and checked through a telescope.
"It's a ship. At least 12 kilometers away. Too far to tell what kind."
"Is that so."
I didn't think much of it and went down to the galley to find Amy.
My pocket watch read 5:45 p.m.
...
"What are you doing?"
"Ah, making soup with onions and carrots. We soaked the salted meat."
Amy was urging the cook along while peeling onions and preparing dinner.
They took out salted meat that had been soaked in seawater to draw out some of the brine and set it on the cutting board.
Then they struggled to slice the softened salted meat.
Salted meat was pork or beef preserved by boiling it in seawater or packing it in salt. It was so salty that we soaked it in seawater first, then fresh water. We had to save fresh water, but if it soaked long enough, it became decent to eat.
Even after soaking, the meat was hard as brick.
Slicing it thin and boiling it was the best option.
The finely chopped pieces went into the soup.
The mate's mate, the cat, watched from atop a sack of potatoes as if supervising.
The cat had grown a bit, and some of its kittenish look had faded.
It had gotten plump too, and the cook joked that it looked ready to eat.
Then again, we ate lizard, so why not cat, I thought for a moment.
...
When I came back up to the deck to escape the muggy heat of the galley,
that ship had grown slightly larger.
I still didn't know what kind of ship it was or where it was headed,
but I'd once been attacked by two pirate ships, and unease kept creeping in.
This was practically lawless water too, wasn't it?
A pirate ship could strip another ship clean, sink it, then call at another port without anyone noticing a thing.
With a nagging sense of dread, I told Colton to keep watching that ship.
His superior was asleep now to prepare for night patrol and overnight duty.
We ate dinner soon after.
Once it passed seven o'clock, a sudden unease hit me.
I took my soup bowl and went out to the deck. The ship still hadn't disappeared from view.
After Zenon came out from dinner, I told him.
"Hey, Colton. When did you first spot that ship?"
"Around 5:30 this afternoon, sir."
Zenon questioned Colton and another sailor who had been on deck watch then, almost like an interrogation.
"Colton, get up there and estimate the distance."
Colton climbed to the mast top, looked toward the sunset horizon, and shouted down.
"About 8 kilometers, sir."
"Our ship is heading south and it's on our port side? Then it's going west.
Trying to cross the South Atlantic westbound?"
"No, Zenon. I don't think so. I can't shake this bad feeling... and if that ship wanted to cross the Atlantic, why from here? It would depart farther north, from Cape Verde or Sierra Leone*."
(*If a ship sails from Africa to America, those northern ports give the shortest route.)
"True... Colton, turn off the stern lights*."
(*Stern lights: the three lights mounted at the stern for ship signaling and visibility, similar in concept to rear lights and turn signals on a car.)
Colton took a sailor with him and went to extinguish the stern lights.
"We got hit once already. I won't assume we won't get hit twice. Navigator, tighten the watch just in case and shift us a little west."
"Agreed. We'll have to use the darkness."
Soon darkness settled over everything.
The moment that ship vanished into the dark, Zenon turned the helm slightly and shifted us southwest.
If that ship was chasing us, they would likely assume we'd stay closer to land.
If the pursued ship put in at its own port or an allied port, a direct attack became difficult.
Red Tea soon sank into silence and darkness.
Amy and Zenon moved around, ordering the sailors to keep lights off and banning smoking.
Before long, the ship fell deathly quiet.
-Scritch-scratch
Quiet enough to hear the cat scratching somewhere below deck.
The only light and sound were occasional careful footsteps and starlight.
...
May 12, 5:10 a.m.
At dawn, the off-watch sailor woke me as instructed.
"Captain."
I checked the clock. 5:10. I got up, threw on my cloak, and opened the captain's cabin door.
"..."
A thin sea fog hung over us, and visibility was poor.
The ship had sailed through the night without trouble...
There was still only enough light to make out shapes.
But once the sun rose and burned off the fog, visibility on this open sea would stretch for dozens of kilometers.
"Probably nothing..."
At 5:40, the sea fog began to clear.
Our view widened little by little, and outlines sharpened.
I quickly climbed to the mast top with a telescope and scanned all directions.
"W-what!"
What looked like yesterday's ship was less than 7 kilometers away.
And as the wind scattered the fog, it shifted from southerly to westerly.
It seemed sunrise was changing the wind direction.
From the silhouette, it looked like a frigate,
and while the flag was hard to identify, the hoisted colors showed blue standing out against white sail.
A French frigate...
"No way."
But from the way the masts overlapped, it was clear its heading was toward us.
"Emergency! Emergency!"
...
"No, this can't be happening! They outplayed us. They caught our expected route during the night.
They sailed at an angle and just stayed in sight.
They're faster. Zenon, can we run?"
"I don't know. We're in open sea now.
Even at best, it will take two days to reach port. And we already lost distance avoiding that ship..."
"No, we need to turn and head north again.
We have to get back on the fixed route. We can only run and hope for help.
If we spot even a cutter*, we might get assistance!"
(*Coastal patrol vessel, called a cutter.)
The ship heeled and turned as fast as possible, then started north again.
It was now clear that ship was targeting us.
Since we knew their type, they must have read our nationality and specs too.
If they were British privateers, they might have broken off and left us alone, but...
This was an enemy privateer. They weren't trying to come alongside just because they needed provisions.
If that were all, they would not chase this desperately. Reaching port would have been faster for them than pursuing us.
And frigates this light and fast were commonly used by privateer pirates.
I climbed to the deckhouse roof and watched.
-Flash
A burst of light flared once from their ship.
I ducked on reflex, but no cannonball landed anywhere.
There was no sound either, but it was clearly a signal shot.
Their ship kept growing larger.
I had to decide now.
"Amy... we need to dump the water."
I chose to throw out water, our heaviest cargo.
For a ship fleeing, it was the best option.
If we had trade goods heavy enough, we'd dump those first, but we had nothing with that kind of weight*.
(*Throwing cargo overboard is naturally to reduce weight and gain speed.
For a completely different reason, when the slave trade became illegal, there were cases where slavers threw enslaved people into the sea to avoid inspection.)
We still needed at least two more days to reach port.
If we held onto it out of regret, I feared we'd lose something much bigger.
The sailors rolled barrels up, pulled the plugs, and drained water into the sea*.
(*There is a reason we do not throw away the entire barrel. These barrels take about a year to make. The wood has to be dried and processed for a long time so it will not leak. Also, compared to the water, the barrel itself is light, so we keep it.)
"Leave only three days' worth. Dump the rest."
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