CHAPTER SIX
“They’re back. The flying fish are back!”
Patience couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d never seen anything like.
The girls’ cries drew Shane and the Captain toward the rail. Shane gravitated to Rose and the Captain stopped beside her. “They fly so far,” she said. “Are they really wings?”
“Of a fashion.” The Captain smiled. “I’ve seen some fly farther than a thousand feet, though five-hundred is probably average. When their wings get dry they have to dive back into the water.” He pointed aft. “Look. There.”
“What’s that?” Angel asked.
“A dolphin ready for its dinner. Dolphins will keep just under a flying-fish waiting for it to alight.”
The fish cunningly flew to a distant wave, dipped its wings and darted off at an angle, avoiding its pursuer.
The girls cheered.
The dolphin jumped out of the water, wiggled in midair, then dove back in. Patience leaned near the Captain, “I think the dolphin rather sweet.”
He tweaked her nose. “If you ever tell anyone, I’ll deny it, but I agree.”
Happiness filled her. The Captain stood beside her, smiling. The sailors looked on, without scowls, and the girls enjoyed the show. At that moment, not a worry beset her. Could their bad luck be over?
Without warning, a stream of sea-foam covered them. One of the girls screamed.
When she wiped her eyes, Patience saw Sophie sitting in a puddle, hair dripping in her face, a flying-fish flopping in her lap. Wellington cavorted to and fro before her, yapping.
Patience knelt beside her. “What happened?”
“It hit me in the face,” Sophie wailed, watching the offending creature stink up her gown. “I was so surprised; I tripped and landed on my . . .deck.”
“Sophie,” The Captain said. “If Doc is in a good mood, he’ll fry that delicacy for the person lucky enough to find it.”
Sophie examined the creature, mouth pursed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm.” She looked at the girls, the sailors, her gaze stopping at Jasper. She smiled, carefully grasped the fish by its tail-fin and picked herself up. She went to Jasper, who tried to look stoic with a wiggling fish hanging topsy-turvy before his face. “By way of apology,” Sophie said. “I would like to fry this myself and give it to you as a gift. Will you let me make amends, Jasper, for popping you?”
Jasper gave a half nod.
Sophie served the succulent morsel for breakfast the next morning, and Jasper declared it, “The finest eating since leaving the Emerald Isle.”
That same day, the Captain’s voice calling, “Ahoy,” through the speaking trumpet caught Patience’s attention.
A regal blue-sailed vessel glided toward them. It came so close, Patience thought she might jump to its deck, but when she looked, the ocean gap between ships was much wider than she thought.
“What ship?” a man from Blue Sails called through his horn.
“Knave’s Secret, from Newport,” the Captain responded.
“Where bound?”
“London.”
“How many days out?”
“Nineteen. What ship?” Captain St. Benedict asked.
“The Connecticut, from Dover.”
“Where bound?”
“Providence.”
“How many days out?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Permission to come aboard?” Captain St. Benedict asked, surprising her. Half an hour later, she watched a dory carry him over. He climbed a rope ladder and went over the side to be greeted by a bearded man. They shook hands and strode from sight.