Chapter 28: Arc Route
“Order the Holy Justice to bombard the galleon deck!” Alonso ordered the soldier.
“Yes, Governor!” The soldier stood at attention, then ran off to relay the order.
According to his previous order, the Holy Justice was now blocking the bay exit on the sea surface. Shouts could not be heard, so the signalman could only stand on the port’s high platform and signal with flags.
At this moment, the sun was rising in the east. From the Holy Justice’s angle looking east toward the port, they could only see the sun’s blinding light. The signalman on the high platform was just a blurry figure, and the flags in his hand could not be seen clearly no matter what.
Therefore, the signalman signaled with flags more than twenty times, but the Holy Justice remained unmoved.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t they obeying the order!” Alonso’s temples throbbed as he roared.
“It should be too far away to see the flag signals,” an officer analyzed.
Alonso bellowed: “Then send a boat over to convey the order verbally!”
Ten minutes later, a rowing small boat slowly made its way toward the Holy Justice.
“Governor, quick, look! The galleon is sailing toward the shoal!” the soldier exclaimed.
Alonso snatched the telescope from the servant’s hand, extended the barrel, and looked toward the galleon. Sure enough, it was heading straight for the shoal.
On the yard, more than a dozen pirates’ sailors were furling the sails.
Unlike the easy-to-handle Chinese lug sails, furling the galleon’s soft sails could not be done quickly just by pulling a few ropes with pulleys.
If it did not turn, the galleon crashing headlong into the shoal was only a matter of time.
The galleon was an absolute sea giant. For increased voyage stability, its hull keel protruded sharply. Once it rushed onto the shoal, under its own weight, the hull would suffer massive damage, and the keel might even snap directly.
But compared to losing the ship and cargo, running aground was already the best outcome.
Alonso knew full well that the pirates could not remove the rudder lock, so the galleon running aground was inevitable.
“Idiots!” Alonso stowed the telescope and cursed viciously.
In his view, their ignorance was even more loathsome than Lin Qian and his gang’s lawless behavior.
Alonso said to his subordinate officers: “After they run aground, capture them alive if possible. I want to watch them go to the gallows with my own eyes!”
With that, he casually tossed the telescope to the servant.
Catherine took the telescope from the servant, then anxiously peered into the distance. Her finger joints turned white from gripping it too hard.
In the telescope’s view, the galleon was drawing ever closer to the shoal. The sailors on the deck were frantic like ants on a hot pan.
At this point, only the mainmast mainsail and mainmast topsail had been furled. The sails on the foremast and mizzenmast were still billowing full with wind, propelling the sailboat forward rapidly.
Catherine knew full well that at such close range, even if they furled every sail on the galleon right now, the ship would still charge onto the shoal due to inertia.
Running aground was already unavoidable.
Catherine did not even realize it herself, but deep down she even hoped Lin Qian could remove the rudder lock and maneuver the galleon into a smooth turn.
Yet her reason told her that in the decades since the Manila galleon first appeared, there had never been a successful case of forcibly removing a rudder lock.
The rudder lock was the pinnacle of wisdom from Spain’s top shipwrights. It was impossible for a single pirate to crack it in a short time.
“Dead pirates, off to the gallows.” Catherine closed her eyes.
Moments later, the surrounding crowd let out a collective gasp.
Catherine was shocked and delighted. She snapped her eyes open and, with the naked eye alone, could see the galleon inexplicably turning hard to port. The turn was so sharp that the ship’s body lurched hard to starboard.
“This is impossible.” Alonso’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “There’s clearly a rudder lock—how did he turn? Did he remove the rudder lock? Impossible!”
“Where’s the telescope? Give me that damn telescope!” Alonso bellowed at the servant behind him.
The telescope was in Catherine’s hands. There, on the distant sea surface, the galleon barely skimmed past the shoal, leaving a perfect arc of white foam trail behind.
Catherine’s red lips parted slightly as she let out an involuntary gasp at the hair’s-breadth maneuver.
She adjusted the telescope, focusing on the ship’s helm on the stern cabin deck. A man was straining to straighten it. His upper body was bare, his muscles taut in beautifully fluid lines.
“Lin Qian…” Catherine murmured.
“Give me that damn telescope!” Alonso roared, snatching it from her and staring wildly into the distance.
The galleon’s two previously furled main sails were now dropped one after another. In the beam wind, it heeled over to starboard with port side cocked high, bow slicing through the waves as it sped across the sea.
“Where’s the Holy Justice? Why aren’t they bombarding?” Alonso yelled. “This is aiding the enemy—it’s a crime!”
“Boom! Boom! Boom…”
As if in response to Alonso’s words, the Holy Justice on the sea surface finally unleashed a salvo.
But after the cannon fire, the galleon was unscathed—not even a splash around it.
Alonso scanned the sea surface and finally spotted several water columns erupting some eight hundred paces off the galleon’s starboard.
The cannonballs had all sailed clean over the galleon, landing farther out on the sea surface.
Though in the age of sail, whether warship cannons hit depended on God’s will, gunners at least ought to train their gunports on the enemy vessel, not the sky.
This broadside had not been aimed at the galleon at all.
“Boom! Boom! Boom…”
Another salvo rang out, the impacts landing even farther than before.
“Damn bastard, what the hell is he doing!” Alonso bellowed.
“Governor, you ordered a bombardment of the enemy ship’s deck. The Holy Justice is loyally carrying out your command,” the officer explained.
The galleon’s ship’s rail towered high, so for the Holy Justice to target its deck, the cannons had to elevate their gunports. Thus, when shots missed, the cannonballs splashed down more than a thousand paces away.
“Damn it! That’s an outdated order. Can’t he see the galleon is about to clear the bay?” Alonso ranted furiously. “This is aiding the enemy, supplying the enemy! Damn it, is that captain’s brain glued shut with whale blubber?”
The officer sounded displeased: “Governor, that’s a bit unfair.”
Just then, another “boom” echoed across the sea surface.
It was not from the Holy Justice—it was the galleon firing.
Though the shot missed, it made the Holy Justice sense danger. They dared not close in to fire again, holding at five hundred paces instead.
“One shot! Just one shot and the Holy Justice cowers! That coward!” Alonso laughed in furious rage, then told the officer: “Requisition the fastest civilian sailboat. I’m boarding the Holy Justice to take personal command!”
“Yes, Governor.”
