Read Online Cave of Secrets by Morgan Llywelyn - Free Book Online
Authors: Morgan Llywelyn
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losing its peacock radiance. There was no visible moon.
They reached the mouth of the little river more quickly than he had expected. Muiris, Seán and Fergal, the younger of the two male cousins, were waiting with a much larger currach. ‘Isn’t Donal coming?’ Tom asked.
‘Donal is still a boy,’ said Muiris. ‘Strong and willing surely, but what we do tonight is man’s work.’
Man’s work. Tom wished his father could hear those words.
Transferring into the larger boat was another challenge. No one offered to help him this time. He was directed to sit in the middle of the boat. ‘I don’t suppose you know how to row?’ Seán asked.
‘Not yet,’ said Tom.
‘Not yet,’ Muiris echoed. ‘D’ye hear him, lads? He has a head on his shoulders, this one. Tomás knows he is for the rowing.’
Séamus stood knee deep in water to shove the currach forward, then vaulted over the side and took a place in the stern. The drumbeat of oars with four men rowing was likea mighty heartbeat.
The waves came to meet them.
In common with all currachs, the boat was made of hides stretched over a light but sturdy frame of wickerwork. It was large enough to transport a grown cow from one island to another. As flexible as a living creature, the currach adapted to every wave.
Tom had watched his father’s head groom break colts to the saddle. The young horses leaped and plunged, but the head groom clung to them like a burr. He made it look easy. As the currach began to leap and plunge Tom realised it was not easy. His head knew he was in no danger of falling, but his stomach had a different opinion.
‘Sit easy, lad,’ Muiris said out of the side of his mouth. ‘Do not fight the motion, ride with it.’
Tom followed his advice. Soon he was grinning into the wind. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. The water seemed to give off a faint light of its own, as if reflecting the vanished day.
He had not brought a warm coat because he had never seen the others wearing warm coats. It was cold on the bay after the sun went down, but he loved it. The pitch sealing the seams of the oxhide had a sharp smell that caught in the back of his throat. He loved it.
At night Roaringwater Bay seemed larger than ever. Wave upon heaving wave rolled away towards the end of the world. Tom could not tell where the boat was in relation tothe land. If the land was still out there. Perhaps it had disappeared entirely, and he would ride the cresting waves in the company of these men forever.
He loved it.
When he saw a dark bulk looming off to one side he knew they were passing an island. Soon a small red glow appeared to the other side.
‘There she is,’ Seán announced. ‘I see the captain’s lamp.’
The oarsmen adjusted their direction.
‘Sit easy, Tomás,’ Muiris said again. ‘You are not going aboard this time.’
This time!
‘Stay in the boat with Séamus and Fergal to receive our cargo. Séamus will show you how to distribute the load evenly in the bottom of the boat. It is important to keep a currach stable.’
Tom had seen sailing ships only at a distance. He had no idea of their true size. As the currach drew alongside, he had to tilt his head back to look up as far as the gunwales. He had expected great sails towering overhead, yards and yards of billowing canvas like the clouds that sailed above the bay. But the sails were lowered. The wind whistled through the shrouds.
Tom was awestruck. ‘That ship is enormous!’
Séamus laughed. ‘You think that’s big? She’s only a little Portuguese caravel out of Lisbon.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘Easy enough. She has a square-rigged foremast raked well forward, with a foresail and topsail and a spritsail over the bows. That high stern is to keep her from being overwhelmed by following seas when she’s sailing before the wind. Her flags tell her nationality and home port.’
‘Oh,’ said Tom.
A rope ladder was thrown down from above. Muiris and Seán scrambled up
They reached the mouth of the little river more quickly than he had expected. Muiris, Seán and Fergal, the younger of the two male cousins, were waiting with a much larger currach. ‘Isn’t Donal coming?’ Tom asked.
‘Donal is still a boy,’ said Muiris. ‘Strong and willing surely, but what we do tonight is man’s work.’
Man’s work. Tom wished his father could hear those words.
Transferring into the larger boat was another challenge. No one offered to help him this time. He was directed to sit in the middle of the boat. ‘I don’t suppose you know how to row?’ Seán asked.
‘Not yet,’ said Tom.
‘Not yet,’ Muiris echoed. ‘D’ye hear him, lads? He has a head on his shoulders, this one. Tomás knows he is for the rowing.’
Séamus stood knee deep in water to shove the currach forward, then vaulted over the side and took a place in the stern. The drumbeat of oars with four men rowing was likea mighty heartbeat.
The waves came to meet them.
In common with all currachs, the boat was made of hides stretched over a light but sturdy frame of wickerwork. It was large enough to transport a grown cow from one island to another. As flexible as a living creature, the currach adapted to every wave.
Tom had watched his father’s head groom break colts to the saddle. The young horses leaped and plunged, but the head groom clung to them like a burr. He made it look easy. As the currach began to leap and plunge Tom realised it was not easy. His head knew he was in no danger of falling, but his stomach had a different opinion.
‘Sit easy, lad,’ Muiris said out of the side of his mouth. ‘Do not fight the motion, ride with it.’
Tom followed his advice. Soon he was grinning into the wind. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. The water seemed to give off a faint light of its own, as if reflecting the vanished day.
He had not brought a warm coat because he had never seen the others wearing warm coats. It was cold on the bay after the sun went down, but he loved it. The pitch sealing the seams of the oxhide had a sharp smell that caught in the back of his throat. He loved it.
At night Roaringwater Bay seemed larger than ever. Wave upon heaving wave rolled away towards the end of the world. Tom could not tell where the boat was in relation tothe land. If the land was still out there. Perhaps it had disappeared entirely, and he would ride the cresting waves in the company of these men forever.
He loved it.
When he saw a dark bulk looming off to one side he knew they were passing an island. Soon a small red glow appeared to the other side.
‘There she is,’ Seán announced. ‘I see the captain’s lamp.’
The oarsmen adjusted their direction.
‘Sit easy, Tomás,’ Muiris said again. ‘You are not going aboard this time.’
This time!
‘Stay in the boat with Séamus and Fergal to receive our cargo. Séamus will show you how to distribute the load evenly in the bottom of the boat. It is important to keep a currach stable.’
Tom had seen sailing ships only at a distance. He had no idea of their true size. As the currach drew alongside, he had to tilt his head back to look up as far as the gunwales. He had expected great sails towering overhead, yards and yards of billowing canvas like the clouds that sailed above the bay. But the sails were lowered. The wind whistled through the shrouds.
Tom was awestruck. ‘That ship is enormous!’
Séamus laughed. ‘You think that’s big? She’s only a little Portuguese caravel out of Lisbon.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘Easy enough. She has a square-rigged foremast raked well forward, with a foresail and topsail and a spritsail over the bows. That high stern is to keep her from being overwhelmed by following seas when she’s sailing before the wind. Her flags tell her nationality and home port.’
‘Oh,’ said Tom.
A rope ladder was thrown down from above. Muiris and Seán scrambled up
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