Chapter 14: Fierce Gale
“Can’t change sails!” Chen Jiao hurriedly said.
Lei Sanxiang also shouted loudly: “Lin Laodi, the enemy ship is in the North, we should flee south.”
Lin Qian shouted loudly: “Change sails!” As he spoke, he turned the helm to the right.
At this time, a Northeast wind was blowing across the sea surface; their south heading was a beam favorable wind, while east was a beam headwind.
The so-called changing sails means turning the sails to adapt to the new wind angle; this is a delicate task—the rope man must coordinate with the helmsman, turning simultaneously.
If turning the helm early without changing sails, it was very likely to be blown onto its side.
Lin Qian turned the helm early, thereby forcing the rope man to change sails.
The rope man hesitated for a moment after all, changing sails a bit late; the ship was blown into a sudden tilt by the gale, the mast emitted a teeth-grinding creaking sound, and all the ship workers on the deck rolled toward port, looking extremely wretched for the moment.
Meanwhile, Catherine, who was firmly tied to the mast, was unscathed and laughed loudly.
“Sixth Brother, have you gone mad?” Chen Jiao roared.
“Elder Brother, just watch.” Lin Qian said indifferently. “Any more words, and it might hurt our brothers’ bond.”
His words carried a threatening undertone, which Chen Jiao understood clearly; he snorted coldly and fell silent.
After the time it takes to burn one stick of incense, the lookout shouted: “Enemy ship turning Southeast, port rear.”
The Fuchuan Ship makes right-angle turns, while San Felipe intercepts at an oblique angle; their speed was already fast to begin with, and the distance short—half a shichen later, they were less than five li from the Fuchuan Ship.
Another meal’s time passed, leaving less than three li.
By now, the sky had completely darkened.
Waves surged high on the sea surface amid fierce winds, with faint rumbling thunder coming from the sky.
Lei Sanxiang took out his matchlock gun and kept blowing on the match; the other ship workers also grabbed weapons.
Bai Langzai held his katana, guarding beside Lin Qian.
Catherine’s view was blocked by the stern cabin, so she couldn’t see San Felipe, but she could tell what was happening from the ship workers’ reactions.
“Pirates, surrender to the great Spanish Navy—you won’t end up on the gallows, I guarantee it.”
“I, Catherine de Fahado de Mendoza, solemnly promise: as long as you surrender, I’ll send you back to your own homes.”
Unfortunately, none of the ship workers understood what she was saying.
Catherine could only say in broken Chinese: “Surrender… surrender quickly…”
“Boom! Boom! Boom…”
Cannon fire boomed in the distance; moments later, water columns shot skyward several hundred steps from the Fuchuan Ship.
As the water columns fell, seawater drifted in with the wind, drenching the Fuchuan Ship in an icy salty rain.
Lin Qian looked astern; San Felipe was now less than two li away, close enough to see soldiers packed densely on the enemy’s deck.
By now, San Felipe’s hull had reached directly behind the Fuchuan Ship but had not turned directly east, maintaining its southeast heading.
With the naked eye, one could see that all the gunports on San Felipe’s starboard were open, dark cannon muzzles protruding.
“They’re putting on a show.” Chen Jiao muttered.
Lin Qian smiled faintly: “No, it’s a bluff—they can’t catch up anymore.”
Chen Jiao smiled bitterly, clearly not believing Lin Qian.
But half a shichen later, San Felipe’s ship lantern was noticeably farther away.
A Western main sail ship’s angle between course and wind direction cannot be less than sixty degrees at minimum, or else it can only zigzag.
Just like San Felipe now: after sailing northeast for a stretch, it turned southeast again.
Meanwhile, the Fuchuan Ship’s Chinese lug sail could tack upwind at small angles, with simpler sail-changing operations.
In upwind sailing efficiency, it was clearly superior to Western main sail ships.
Lin Qian, intimately familiar with each side’s strengths and weaknesses, had thus decided to turn east.
Just as Lin Qian had said, San Felipe’s ship lantern flickered uncertainly between the Fuchuan Ship’s port and starboard, but it could not catch up no matter what—instead, it fell ever farther behind.
San Felipe’s ship lantern grew ever blurrier on the sea surface until it vanished into the darkness.
When the lookout announced, “Enemy ship retreating,” every ship worker aboard let out a cheer.
Catherine listened to the cheers around her with deep regret, her profound brown eyes brimming with hatred as she glared fixedly at Lin Qian behind the ship’s helm.
Unfortunately, it was not yet time to relax.
By now, the wind on the sea surface grew ever stronger, waves reaching several feet high, and bean-sized raindrops suddenly pelted down.
The wind direction also abruptly shifted from northeast to northwest.
Suddenly, the world filled with the roar of wind, surging waves, and rain lashing the sea surface—deafening sounds that shook the heart.
“It seems… it seems like the Sea Dragon King turning over…” one ship worker whispered.
Terror appeared on everyone’s faces, worse even than when pursued by the Spaniards.
“Third Grandma is coming to claim lives…” Bai Langzai’s face was ashen; the Tanka people aboard knelt in droves, kowtowing ceaselessly to the sea surface.
“Dead pirates, cowards—now you know fear?” Catherine’s face was drained of color, her lips trembling nonstop, yet she kept mocking them.
Rumble!
Muffled thunder rolled from the horizon, resounding across the eight directions and four seas.
The ocean boiled like a cauldron; waves mere feet high a moment ago surged over ten feet in an instant.
Beneath lightning flashes, pitch-black giant waves gaped like the maw of a massive whale.
“It’s a typhoon…” Even worldly Chen Jiao trembled all over.
Typhoon was Great Ming’s term for typhoon; though a natural phenomenon, Great Ming folk were superstitious of gods and Buddhas, and seafarers even more so—beholding this portent of heaven and earth, they were instantly gripped by great terror.
The wind and waves rose too swiftly; all the ship workers panicked and scrambled to kneel, kowtowing to the sea surface.
“Heading directly south, starboard taking wind—turn helm, change sails!” Amid the gale and downpour, Lin Qian shouted.
No one moved.
Lin Qian wiped rainwater from his face and cursed: “Those who don’t want to die, get up off the deck—I’ll lead you out! Change sails!”
Hearing Lin Qian’s shout, a few brothers found their resolve; beating and cursing, they got the rope men up to change sails.
“No good—speed’s too high, reef half the sail!” Lin Qian shouted.
Soaked through, the rope men struggled on the slippery deck to reef sail.
“Still too fast—reef more!” Lin Qian called.
By now the gale raged with force at least level thirteen; excessive speed could easily plunge them bow-first into a wave, destroying ship and drowning crew.
“Ah!” One rope man slipped and was blown off starboard by the gale, shrieking piteously before vanishing instantly into the pitch-black surging seawater.
“Tie yourselves down tight with ropes!” Lin Qian shouted, while binding himself to the ship’s helm with a length of rope.
The gale now fiercer still, raindrops slashed faces like knives, stinging skin; eyes could only narrow to slits, barely able to see.
Boom!
A thunderbolt struck the nearby sea surface, the air alive with spider-silk-fine electric arcs.
By the electric glow, the ship workers glimpsed five or six twisting black pillars rearing between sea and sky farther out.
Boom!
Another lightning arc flashed; the distant black pillars writhed, gradually merging into one about a hundred zhang high and ten zhang thick—truly a pillar propping heaven.
Even the mythical Mount Buzhou of lore was no grander.
Surrounding seawater gathered about the black pillar, spiraling up its length to the firmament.
“It’s a waterspout.” Someone gasped softly.
“Third Grandma, protect us…”
“Mazu, save me…”
“I sought the Lord… and he answered me, delivering me from all fears…” Catherine closed her eyes, chest heaving violently as she prayed aloud—only to be interrupted every few words by seawater and rain slapping her face.
“All crouch low and hold on tight!” Lin Qian roared.
Before his eyes loomed a wall of seawater—as if the entire sea had capsized ahead of the ship.
Fortunately, the Fuchuan Ship’s speed was not great; gradually lifted by the surging wave to its crest, the hull then tilted downward.
At that moment, a horrifying sight appeared before the crew.
