Chapter 30: The Azure Sea

Seeing the ricocheting cannonball hurtling straight toward their ship, the Spanish soldiers instantly fell into chaos.

Their merchant vessel was small in tonnage and thin in planking—it could not withstand a shot like that coming at the bow.

But in that instant, they could make no reaction at all, and could only instinctively pray to God.

Perhaps God had heeded the devout prayers of His children—a hundred-odd paces behind the merchant ship's stern, another spray of water erupted.

The cannonball miraculously flew clean over the top of the merchant ship.

Fortunately, civilian merchant ships had low freeboards; otherwise that shot would certainly have struck home.

The Spaniards, having narrowly escaped death, hastily turned the rudder to take evasive action.

Though everyone knew that shot had been pure luck—even if they stayed dead in the water, they could never be hit by another ball on the same trajectory.

But no one dared to gamble on it.

The instinct for survival drove them to change course.

The Governor-General of Manila on board roared: "Do not change course! Board that ship at once!"

But it was already too late—the merchant ship had thrown its helm hard to port and swung broadside, hiding behind the towering hull of the Sacred Justice.

"Damn cowards!" Alonso raged.

On the wharf, Catherine had been holding a telescope the whole time, closely watching the situation at sea.

When she saw a cannonball flying straight for her father's flagship, her heart leapt into her throat and she cried out in alarm.

Seeing that the merchant ship had not been hit, she finally relaxed.

She then shifted her telescope toward the galleon.

Along the galleon's port side stood a row of pirates, all seemingly watching the results of that shot.

Catherine strained to make out their faces, but they were too far away—even through the telescope, she could only see figures the size of grains of rice.

Suddenly, she saw a pirate at the rail holding a telescope, looking straight in her direction.

Catherine's heart gave a violent lurch; like a child caught doing something wrong, she quickly lowered her telescope.

By the time she had composed herself and raised the telescope again, the galleon had already turned to starboard, presenting its stern castle to her.

"Goodbye, Lin Qian." Catherine's red lips moved slightly as she spoke with a wistful loss, "One day, I will catch you with my own hands!"

After that shot, Lin Qian ordered the galleon to turn to starboard.

In the age of sail, the larger the ship, the more cumbersome the turning maneuver.

So before the hull had fully swung broadside, he had to correct the course back on track.

That shot had not been wasted either—the Spaniards on the merchant ship had clearly been scared half to death, and had already turned to port and tucked themselves behind the Sacred Justice.

With that delay, the Sacred Justice would have to sit anchored in place for quite some time.

Meanwhile, Lin Qian's galleon had already sailed to the mouth of Manila Bay.

At this moment, the sunlight was just right, sea breeze brushing his side, seagulls wheeling overhead.

The bow cut through the waves, sending a cool, faintly salty spray across the deck.

Before his eyes, the azure sea stretched endlessly to the horizon.

"Hard to starboard, heading due north!" Lin Qian barked the order. He could not help reaching out to stroke the galleon's teak railing—from this moment on, this was his ship.

"Understood!" Chen Jiao replied, then shouted across the deck: "Hard to starboard, heading due north, port side running before the wind—sheet handlers, change the sails!"

More than twenty sheet handlers came to the starboard side and expertly hauled taut the starboard sheets.

As the ship turned, the yards gradually swung to starboard as well, finally settling at the perfect angle to the wind.

Lin Qian silently watched it all. In his previous life, he had mostly sailed fore-and-aft rigs, and knew very little about the complex rigging system of Western square-rigged ships.

Though the basic principle of using wind power was much the same, when it came to which rope to pull for which wind direction, and which sail to use, he was completely at a loss.

Once he had shaken off the Spanish pursuers, Lin Qian would stay up five or six nights in a row if he had to, until he understood every one of those complex ropes.

The galleon sailed north at full speed, riding the southwest wind.

Lin Qian estimated the ship's speed at around eight knots—twice that of the old Fujian junk—and there was still room for improvement.

For instance, converting the spanker into several triangular sails, lengthening the mizzenmast, changing the lateen sail to a square sail, lowering the stern castle to leave more room for sails, and reducing the beam.

In the age of sail, the pinnacle of ship design was the ship-of-the-line of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

This Manila galleon still bore traces of the carrack in its lines; compared to a top-tier ship-of-the-line, it had plenty of room for improvement.

At that thought, Lin Qian could not help crouching down, running his fingertips over the galleon's rough wooden deck, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Just then, Bailangzai's voice came over: "Sixth Brother, I've counted it up—this trip we lost three brothers dead, two badly wounded, and a dozen or so lightly injured."

Lin Qian said gravely: "Write down the names of the dead and the wounded. Compensation comes out of the common fund."

"Right." Bailangzai paused, then asked: "Sixth Brother, what do we do with that freeloader?"

"Freeloader?" Lin Qian was puzzled.

"That naked barbarian who got a free ride," Bailangzai reminded him.

Only then did Lin Qian remember José.

Lin Qian glanced toward the shore, then said: "Doesn't he know how to swim? Throw him overboard."

The galleon was hard to turn, so naturally it could not put in to shore just for a single prisoner—and fortunately, they were only about five hundred meters from land, so he probably would not drown.

"You got it."

A moment later, José was brought up from the hold. When he saw himself being pushed step by step toward the ship's rail, he let out a terrified cry: "No, don't push me over! Stop!"

He spoke in halting Chinese, and only then did Lin Qian realize he knew the language.

Lin Qian was in an excellent mood, so he taunted him in Chinese: "Don't worry—swim fast enough, and the sharks won't catch you."

It was meant as a joke, but José hurriedly replied: "It's not the sharks I'm afraid of! I want to join you—I want to become one of your crew!"

"Hahaha..." The sailors around them burst into laughter.

The two crewmen escorting José kept walking, dragging him all the way to the ship's edge and pressing his head out over the rail—but José clung to the gunwale for dear life, and for a moment they could not push him off.

Lin Qian put away his smile: "Just jump down without worry—this height won't kill you."

Jose spoke rapidly: "If I go back now, the Governor-General will hang me. I can't leave. Since you've captured me, you must take responsibility to the end... I request to join your crew. I know how to sail the seas—my family were once backers of Columbus. You will need me..."

"Columbus was a man of over a hundred years ago. I have no interest in outdated navigation." Though Lin Qian said this, he secretly gave the two sailors escorting Jose a gesture to go easy on him and not actually push him over.

Jose's mind raced, and he added: "The cargo on the galleon—you'll need to find buyers, and the hull is damaged—you'll need repairs. I have connections with the Portuguese!"

"No need to worry about sales or ship repairs." Lin Qian was bluffing—in truth, he had no real plan. He had originally intended to dock at Yazhou first, then contact buyers.

He hadn't expected to find a pillow just as drowsiness hit—running into Jose was exactly that.

Half of Jose's body had already been pushed over the ship's rail. Staring at the waves splashing against the hull, he said urgently: "Ship repairs absolutely require Portuguese help. Galleon technology is complex—it's not something yellow-skinned... not something the shipwrights of the Great Ming can fix."

"Pull him back." Lin Qian commanded.

Jose was dragged back by the two sailors and sat on the deck, making the sign of the cross over his chest in lingering fear.

Lin Qian walked up to him and said: "Tonight, you come to the captain's quarters."

"No problem, respected..." Jose began, then suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. He shuffled to the ship's rail, covering his rear: "You... what do you mean? I... I... I..."

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen