There was a great disparity in the size of The Silver Lotus, which was two hundred feet long with forty feet of beam, and the Pearl River junks, which were mostly less than forty-five feet in length. With The Silver Lotus in place, the channel would admit only one small junk at a time, which was not how the Wong Chi liked their odds. And since there was nowhere to land, it was impossible for the pirates to launch an attack from the landward side, so for the moment all the pirates could do was wait for their quarry to break from cover and then mob the ship like crows before she could fully get under way and escape. This tactic had worked before, so the Wong Chi fleet confidently settled down and cruised just off the entrance to the channel. Some of the junks simply lowered their sails, anchored in place, and passed the time fishing. The Wong Chi, like all scavenging predators, had long since learned the virtues of patience. They were certainly impoverished, uncultured, and uneducated, but they were neither stupid nor rash, and if called upon to do so, would sell their lives at an exorbitant price indeed. The poor rarely showed signs of cowardice; their lives were worth so little as it was that little was lost if they died defending them. There was always another hungry mouth to take the place of the fallen. On the other hand, the rich could always think of a thousand reasons not to put their lives in jeopardy.
Captain Hammond called a council of his top men to the wheelhouse. He asked for suggestions on how to extricate themselves from their present dilemma. Since Lady Yee was present, most of them put a bold face on their responses and suggested fighting their way out sometime after sunset. There would be little or no moonlight, depending on the clouds, which would make it more difficult for the pirates to organize a concerted response. A few might be injured, but only if they failed to make fast work of their escape on the next outgoing tide.
Lady Yee, who had been standing in the corner, politely cleared her throat to gain attention. She had come to know the ways of men, and was always amused when they incessantly chose the same ill-considered and brutish responses to problems that could easily be solved by other means.
Captain Hammond turned to his wife, and with a knowledgeable smile he declared that, as a company officer, she had every right to make a better suggestion. It was then that Lady Yee posed a most marvelous and audacious suggestion. She began by pointing out that there was only one thing that really frightened bullies, thieves, and murderers, whether ashore or at sea, and that was to convince the discourteous beggars that you are the penultimate bully, thief, and murderer. Lady Yee went on to say that it was just a matter of dressing the part, and then scaring their notoriously superstitious adversaries half to death with a totally unexpected display of some dumb-show barbarity. Native fear and insecurity would do all else required.
There was a complete, drop-jawed silence from her audience, but Lady Yee could see at once that she had their complete attention. Even her husband stood in rapt admiration, so she continued. She said that for the most part, at a distance there was little that differentiated a ship of evil purpose from one of peaceful intentions; even the flags could be confusing. So it would be necessary to advertise the ship’s bloody intentions in such a way that the pirates could see it at some distance, and would thus be in no doubt of what to expect if the situation came to blows.
“To accomplish our intention,” she said, “and truly convince the Red Flag Wong Chi that The Silver Lotus means bloody business, we must dress up some of our crew like Chinese pirates, and then hang perhaps three or four by the neck from the foremast gaff and let them swing there in the wind.”
The look on the faces of her husband and the other men was just as Lady Yee had supposed. The hanging men, she explained, would be a complete illusion created by top men wearing canvas harnesses under their clothes and sporting fake death knots around their necks. With flour-caked faces, wild greased hair, and coal-smeared eyes, they were to perform the exaggerated gyrations and struggles expected of a man being slowly strangled at the end of a rope. While this was going on, she said, other members of the crew were to bang incessantly on pots and pans, or anything at all that made a din, while still others blew whistles and horns. Since they could only depart on the morning tide at five o’clock, and as it was expected that offshore winds would assist their departure anyway, Lady Yee suggested that sand-filled fire buckets be loaded with burning sulfur and placed in the bows, to create a noxious cloud and so add verisimilitude to the illusion that the Wong Chi were about to face the deadliest pirate-killing ship from the bowels of hell. And rather than shoot guns at the pirates as they emerged from the inlet, she said, they should fire their red and green signal rockets horizontally and directly at the sails of the Wong Chi fleet. She admitted that the chances of hitting anything were remote, but the fire, sparks, and explosions would put the Wong Chi at a disadvantage. A rocket fired in the air was a relatively benign illumination, but when that same ball of fire came arching directly at a human target, it held another implication altogether. Even the fire caused by a direct hit might be easily extinguished with a few buckets of seawater, but in the fear and confusion The Silver Lotus might easily pass right through the Wong Chi fleet without suffering injury to a single soul. As a confirmed Buddhist with a firm grounding in all the important Confucian precepts, Lady Yee believed that the greatest victories were accomplished without bloodshed, and it seemed that every man in the wheelhouse was happy to agree.
Lady Yee went on to say that the Chinese traditionally held great store by the importance of flags to denote rank and purpose. Large flags of rich color held power, smaller pennants showed allegiance. Then there were flags bearing titles and proud slogans that were meant to intimidate opponents like the raising of a lion’s hackles with bared teeth. The roar was still to come. She suggested that if the Wong Chi were flying small red pennants, The Silver Lotus should let fly a red banner the size of a bedsheet, and then hoist another large banner on which she would paint Chinese characters that communicated a terrifying threat: “We have come to eat the traitors to the Wong Chi. None shall enjoy further life or prosperity.” This intelligence, shocking as it would seem, just might encourage the pirates to suspect that for some unknown reason they’d been betrayed, perhaps by their own triad. But it mattered little what they thought as long as the resulting confusion allowed The Silver Lotus to sail through the pirate fleet with negligible damage being suffered by either side.
The carpenter’s mate ran about the ship collecting anything that looked remotely like a big gun, then painted it black and lashed it to the railings so it could be seen at a distance. The cook brought out every pot, pan, and ladle on deck and handed these out to those men assigned to create the unholy din when the ship got underway. The bosun’s mate, who rather liked the idea of hanging some of his mates, climbed out on the foremast gaff to brace and lash the split with wet rawhide straps and rope. When he’d determined that the sprung gaff could take the weight, he drew up four tackle blocks one at a time and then carefully spaced and tied them off along the gaff. One end of the line was secured to the backs of the harnesses the boatswain had rigged up from canvas strapping reinforced with heavy leather. The other end was laced through a second block shackled to the deck, and then used to haul the man up into the air to swing under the gaff. A mock hangman’s rope was affixed around the man’s neck and tied off with light thread where it met the lifting line. If there were to be an accident, at least the volunteer wouldn’t really hang for his courageous efforts.
The condemned men outdid themselves in attempts to look fearsome, gruesome, and dead, while the rest of the crew, including the cook, cabin boy, and carpenter, joined in on their own. They all put together outlandish costumes and made up their faces with flour, red lead, and coal dust. Mr. Lundy, who hailed from London, said it reminded him of an elaborate Guy Fawkes prank.
Captain Hammond took personal charge of the pyrotechnics, and following Lady Yee’s philosophy of a bloodless assault even had the armed men remove the buckshot from some of their shotgun shells a
nd reload them with extra powder and sulfur pellets so as to make a more theatrically impressive display of increased noise, smoke, and fire. Just the men armed with the rifles were told to keep their loads, but they were only to fire if some of the Wong Chi managed to make it on deck. The captain took charge of mounting the two launchers for the distress rockets on either side of the ship. He had only eight red and eight green rockets, so he chose to launch them in alternating colors from either side of the ship. If the surrounding junk fleet moved in too close, he hoped it might have the desired effect, because the exercise was almost as dangerous for the people firing the rockets as it would be for the people being fired upon. If his ship caught fire in the process of self-defense, it would be a tainted victory at best. To cover that eventuality, he used wet canvas to erect a couple of dreadnought screens behind the launching tubes, and then had buckets of water stationed nearby in case his calculations proved in error. He had seen distress rockets prematurely explode just feet out of the tube. The resulting injuries could be terrible, so he decided that when the time came he would fire off the rockets himself. Lady Yee had brushed the appropriate characters on one canvas banner, but the red flag had to be painted as there was no red banner in the flag locker. Both flags were flying by three in the morning. The fire buckets, now half-filled with sand and topped with oil-soaked rags, were top-loaded with large nuggets of sulfur that, when burned, would create great noxious, ocher clouds of smoke. This process had been used for centuries to fumigate ships belowdecks, but except for encouraging the more sensitive rats to take up residence elsewhere and creating a terrible stink that, like oil, clung to everything for weeks, it was only marginally useful for its intended purpose. Captain Hammond believed the practice came from the ancient belief that if something smelled absolutely dreadful, it had to be dangerous, if not deadly, and in a number of instances that was true. On the other hand, when encouraged by the presence of gunpowder’s heat, pressure, and flames, the results could be spectacular. In that same vein, Captain Hammond decided to pull the charge of broken glass from the signal cannon. He was right in assuming it would have little or no effect except at very close range with a stationary target, and with the Wong Chi crew standing shoulder to shoulder on deck. He laughed when he thought of the odds. Instead he concocted a mixture of gunpowder, saltpeter, sulfur nuggets, and the contents of one of the red distress rockets that had been damaged in transit. He poured his mixture into a bag made from an old linen shirtsleeve, and after loading the cannon with a double charge of powder he slid his infernal machine down the barrel, tamped it hard in place, then drove in a protective plug made of rags soaked in hot beeswax. He rightly assumed that if nothing else, there would be one hell of a colorful explosion, with a rain of red fire descending everywhere. By four-thirty in the morning all the preparations were in hand.
At about five-fifteen the incoming tide went slack, and everything was made ready. The offshore winds would gain strength soon, but in the meantime they were blessed with a dense coastal fog that came up out of nowhere. Captain Hammond was reassured that the Wong Chi were now just as blind as he was. However, he took the covering fog as an opportunity to raise all possible sails on his three working masts.
The captain had kept his ship in place by the judicious use of three anchors, one at the bow, one to port nearest the shore, and one off the stern. As the tide turned, Captain Hammond called the deckhands to haul in the port anchor, and to do everything as quietly as possible. Then, as the offshore breezes began to push the fog to sea, he paid off the stern anchor cable and slowly crept up on the bow anchor, which he also ordered hauled up as quietly as possible. As the power of tidal race increased, and the breezes steadied from the land, the captain ordered the mainsail booms hauled out wing to wing to catch as much of the wind as possible. The sails slowly billowed with strength and a desire for momentum. The men could hear the low moans and chirping sounds caused by the extraordinary stretch and strain on the heavy stern anchor cable, but still the ship hung suspended against the forces of wind and tide like a giant spider about to drop on an unsuspecting cricket.
Lady Yee, now attired in black oilskins, stood alongside her husband outside the pilothouse. The fog would soon blow to sea, and it was imperative that they move at once. If their charade was going to work at all, the half-light of dawn was imperative to complete the effect. Besides, the deck watches on the junks would just be changing, and, it was hoped, this would only add to their confusion.
Captain Hammond walked Lady Yee to the foremast, where she was lifted up to take a seat on the furled foremast sail. From there she would conduct her percussive chorus of pots and pans, and with the help of a megaphone, exhort the Wong Chi to stay where they were and die like the traitorous slaves they were, for the Red Flag of The Silver Lotus had come to end their days and make widows and orphans of their families. It was a war cry that she had composed and rehearsed. Captain Hammond wasn’t sure of the effect it would have on the pirates, but he honestly said it certainly scared him, and he spoke only limited Cantonese. But it also set him to wondering how such a demure creature as Lady Yee could come up with such bloodcurdling language, much less shout it at the top of her lungs.
A moment later the captain was informed that with the sails full, the stern anchor cable was likely to part under the strain any second. Suddenly orders flew like arrows, and Lady Yee’s real-life Chinese opera began in earnest. Captain Hammond cued Lady Yee to begin the pot-banging chorus to cover the sound of two men chopping the stern anchor cable free. He could always get another anchor, or return later and recover it himself. While this was happening, the four hanged men were carefully hoisted halfway up the height of the mast and left to swing in the wind.
Suddenly the anchor cable parted with a loud splash and The Silver Lotus, for all her length and tonnage, seemed to shoot forward like a bull elk. Lady Yee encouraged her chorus to beat at a precise tempo as loudly as possible. Soon everybody with a free hand picked up the rhythm and started pounding away on anything made of metal, with whatever was at hand. It began to seem as though the ship itself were making the din.
As The Silver Lotus exited the fog bank, the captain left instructions with the helmsman, and then made his way forward to the bow, where the signal gun had been lashed in place for its one glorious roar of defiance. This would soon be followed by the screech of colored rockets and Lady Yee’s bloodthirsty promises of a future in hell for all those who opposed the will of the Red Flag of The Silver Lotus. Captain Hammond waited until he judged the wind coming from astern strong enough to blow the smoke ahead of the ship, and then had the fire buckets ignited. The sulfur immediately sent clouds of ocher smoke billowing ahead of the ship. The smoke mingled with the fog to create a most unusual atmosphere that smelled like the breath of hell, but Hammond had taken the precaution of tying a wet bandana over his nose and mouth to keep from breathing in the cloying fumes. Even then, the unpleasant odor was enough to gag the devil himself.
With the help of the tide and the wind, Captain Hammond estimated the ship was moving at a good six knots, more than enough speed to stave in the sides of any junk that happened to be in its path. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but he’d suffer little or no remorse if it did. He waited patiently in the bow near the signal gun.
The Wong Chi pirate fleet had most certainly taken note of the mysterious clanging sounds coming out of the fog and was waiting with sails set as The Silver Lotus suddenly came lurching out of the fog like an animated canvas mountain. As soon as he was sure that the pirates had gotten a good look at what was coming after them—hanged men, capering red-faced devils, and all—Captain Hammond fired the cannon. Like everyone else, he was stunned by the effect. With an ungodly explosion that left ears ringing, the cannon delivered a great arc of fire that leapt from the barrel and rained burning sulfur and red stars down on everything ahead for two hundred yards. Without resting on his laurels, the captain then fired off both port and starboard rockets. They exploded v
ery colorfully just feet over the junks, setting some of their sails alight. In the meantime the slow metered clanging continued, while Lady Yee stood on the boom with her megaphone screaming in Chinese at the Wong Chi fleet to lower their sails and meet death with dignity so as not to shame their ancestors.
Captain Hammond hadn’t as yet taken notice of the Wong Chi’s response. Then one of the armed seamen stationed high in the ratlines shouted down to the deck to get his captain’s attention, and then pointed at the pirate fleet just ahead. Captain Hammond rushed to the port railing and watched in stunned disbelief. What he saw was a scene of mass confusion. The sails of some of the junks that had been stationed just ahead of his ship as it came out of the fog had been set afire by the burning sulfur, and their crews were trampling each other in futile attempts to extinguish the flames with buckets of seawater. Meanwhile, those frantic junk crews that were closest to the ship, and faced the greatest perceived hazard, chose the better part of valor and jumped into the sea to avoid imminent destruction.
The alarm spread as the Wong Chi helplessly called to one another for help, but nothing useful came in reply, and none ventured closer to help their comrades. The captain watched the scene in amused surprise. Suddenly, like an electric shock shared by those holding hands, the entire Wong Chi fleet took flight and, using their long sculling oars in a panic, abruptly turned in place and scattered in all directions like a covey of quail surprised by a fox. Then The Silver Lotus sailed majestically through the abandoned remnants of the pirate fleet, and Lady Yee silenced the tin-pan chorus. As the speed increased, all went quiet aboard ship, and they traveled on without further disturbance or threat.
The Silver Lotus Page 5
