Sea Crisis

Although the ship was still rocking violently, Captain Morel, who had just finished his night shift, quickly fell asleep in his hammock. This was a basic skill for sailors. However, his eyelids had barely closed for a moment when a sharp ringing of a bell jolted him awake from his hammock.

"What happened?" Captain Morel climbed up the ladder, reached out and pushed open the cover at the top of the stairs. The bright sunlight shone down, making it difficult for Captain Morel was used to the darkness in the cabin, to open his eyes for a moment.

Morel shielded his eyes with one hand and shouted, "What happened?"

"Captain, a strange Britain ship spotted!" shouted Big Leclerc, who was on watch by the helm.

"Where?" Morel's eyes had adjusted to the light by now, and he strode toward Leclerc on the swaying, wet deck, asking as he did so.

Leclerc handed the brass binoculars to Morel: "Captain, look over there, where the smoke is coming from. That ship is really ugly!"

By this time, Morel had also seen the thick smoke coming from that direction.

"Did their ship catch fire? Or was it burned by our Greek Fire?" Morel asked, bringing his binoculars close to his eyes.

"This ship is really ugly!" Morel couldn't help but exclaim.

It was a grey ship with a large smokestack that was belching out thick black smoke. On either side of the ship were two large paddle wheels, turning, and judging from the waves churned up at the bow, the ship was moving quite fast. And on the bow of the ship, the Britain flag was clearly flying.

"It came from us," Morel said. "I'd like to see whether it's faster or we are."

Morel looked up at the sails—all the sails were already raised. But because there was only a rare Breeze at sea, the ship wasn't moving very fast.

This wouldn't be a problem when facing other sailboats, because if the wind is weak, the clipper boat won't go fast, and neither will the other sailboats. But the boat chasing them is clearly an exception—it doesn't have sails at all, yet it's going incredibly fast.

"I'll take the helm," Morel said, and Leclerc stepped aside.

Morel steered the ship, making slight adjustments to its direction, but the speed didn't improve much. Leclerc was an experienced helmsman, and Morel wasn't necessarily better. Changing captains at this point was really just a superstitious idea, a way to change luck. Maybe changing captains would bring a better wind?

However, Morel's luck didn't seem to be much better than Leclerc's; the wind was still blowing weakly. The boats still couldn't pick up speed, and the boat behind seemed to be getting closer.

"Leclerc, it seems we have to get rid of some cargo now," Morel said to Leclerc.

"Captain, losing the cargo will be a huge loss for us," Leclerc said. "If we lose the cargo and then a gust of wind comes, wouldn't that be... Besides, that ship is still far away. As long as we can hold out until nightfall..."

Chase-and-run at sea is often extremely time-consuming. If the speed difference between the two ships is not significant, a chase can easily last for hours or even days. According to the contract signed between Morel and the "Military-Industrial Complex," compensation must be paid for the loss of cargo.

Running the France - Ireland route is extremely profitable. Just a dozen or so trips are enough to buy a new ship. And the route isn't long, so a dozen or so trips don't take much time. However, a large part of the reason this route is so profitable is also due to its inherent risks. If cargo is lost, the ship owner has to compensate for the loss. The reason Morel only has one ship is because he recently lost one after it ran aground.

"Leclerc, we bought insurance this time," Morel replied.

"But those guys at the insurance company might not agree that abandoning the cargo was unavoidable. Last time, Captain Letieri lost his cargo in a storm, and when he returned, the insurance company guys said he 'mishandled' it, so they only paid the bare minimum—and that was barely a little bit? Besides, did you really read every single word of the contract we signed with the insurance company? Including the disclaimers in the appendix?"

Morel paused for a moment, then said, "That thing has dozens of pages..."

"So you're sure that if we lose the goods now, Amodia Insurance Company will compensate us?"

"Unless my ship has holes from Britain cannon fire, these guys... well, let's run like this for now. If the Britain ships get within a kilometer of us in an hour, we'll jettison some of the cargo... We've made enough to cover our losses after all these voyages. Our safety is always more important than money, Leclerc. You know, one of the tragedies of life is getting a lot of money and dying before you even have a chance to enjoy it."

"Captain," Leclerc replied, "I think there's an even greater tragedy in life: to be penniless and still not dead..."

"Alright, Leclerc, I'm sure you'll have a lot of money before you die," Morel said. "You hold the helm for me, I'll go down and get the rangefinder."

Leclerc took the helm, and Morel went down to the deck. After fiddling with it for a while, he came back up with a small brass rod. It was a coincidence rangefinder, used to measure the distance between objects. However, it was too small, and the measurement accuracy was only so-so. But for Morel, it was enough.

The wind at sea didn't increase; in fact, it weakened. The clipper's speed didn't increase; instead, it slowed down. Meanwhile, the Britain ship behind it was completely unaffected and continued to close in.

Morel put down the rangefinder, sighed, and said, "Let's just drop the cargo. They're getting too close. If we don't drop something soon, we won't last until nightfall."

"How about we take a gamble with 'Greek Fire'?" Leclerc was still somewhat reluctant to part with the cargo, as he had also invested in this ship.

"Leclerc, wake up!" Morel said. "Look at the shape of that ship, look at their freeboard. It's not a clipper ship; it definitely has cannons on it! They still have a speed advantage. They can control the distance and then use their cannons to send us all to the bottom of the sea from a safe distance! Leclerc, making your fortune at sea is a very risky business, with a lot of gambling involved. But once you've gambled this time, you can't gamble recklessly anymore, because your life and fortune are already staked here."

Leclerc was eventually persuaded by Morel. So the sailors began unloading crates of cargo from the hold and throwing them into the sea.

As more cargo was thrown into the sea, the ship became lighter and its speed increased somewhat. However, there was still little wind at sea, so the Britain ship continued to approach. Now, even without binoculars, one could clearly see the ship's huge paddle wheels constantly churning the water and creating waves.

Morel had already thrown all the cargo overboard, but he still couldn't shake off the Britain ship. And as things stood, unless a sudden strong wind came, they definitely wouldn't last until sunset before the Britain caught up with them.

"Enemy ships are firing!" shouted the lookout on the mast. Everyone looked back and saw a plume of smoke rising from the bow of the Britain ship. A moment later, they heard the booming of cannons, followed by the whistling of shells cutting through the air.

With a "thump," a column of water emerged from the starboard side of Morel's ship, though it was still several hundred meters away. If the sea hadn't been relatively calm at that moment, such a small column of water would have been easily overlooked.

Firing at such a distance makes hitting the target extremely difficult. Aside from relying on luck, such shelling is more of a warning and a show of force, essentially meaning. "You can't escape now, surrender!"

But for Morel and his men, surrendering meant losing the ship, which would plunge them into the tragic situation of being penniless but still alive. So unless all hope was truly lost, Morel and his men would never surrender.

So Morel and his men continued to run, and the Britain continued to pursue and fire at them.

The Britain were closing in, and the cannonballs were landing closer and closer to Morel's ship. At this point, they didn't even need binoculars; they could clearly see the Britain ship and the very thick cannon mounted on its bow with the naked eye.

As the France fled, they prayed and cried for help to God, Jesus, the Virgin Maria, Saint Peter, Saint John, and every other saint they could remember, promising, "If we can escape, we will go to church every day to pray to God." Although, because the France government had not yet reconciled with the Holy See, there wasn't a single "legitimate" priest in those churches.

But once again, it was proven that the France were indeed the sons of God—and his own flesh and blood. A 24-pound shell struck the clipper ship's mast precisely, breaking it in two.

The mast, along with the sail, fell into the water, but the ropes on the mast remained attached to the ship. The mast, now submerged, instantly became an anchor, holding the ship firmly in place and causing the clipper boat's speed to drop drastically.

"Quick! Cut the rope!" Morel shouted, dropping the helm and grabbing an axe, lunging at the rope. Leclerc, pale and distraught, realized that without a mast, they had no chance of outrunning the Britain.

"My God!" Leclerc cried. At the same time, a loud bang came from the Britain ship behind them.