"Sure," Miro handed it to her. "I'm going to see if I can tie some vines to those iron hoops at the front of the ship. If we can loop the vines around that thick tree there, we can get the leverage we need to pull the caravel forward on the rollers."
Sweat poured down Miro's brow as he worked, but he'd forgotten everything in his enthusiasm — the lack of food, the close encounter with the sharks, his own tired muscles.
Amber returned with her shirt cupped full of shellfish, and they both set to hungrily. Afterwards, Miro showed Amber his handiwork. He'd made a rope of the tough vines, and taken the vines around the thick trunk of a tree situated ahead of the small ship. When they pulled on the vines, the caravel should inch forward on the rollers.
"Are you ready?" Miro said.
Amber took a loop around her wrist.
"Heave!"
"It moved!" Amber cried.
"Of course it did," Miro said, but he was grinning.
By the middle of the afternoon, the ship had reached the summit of the gently sloping beach.
"It'll move quickly now," Miro said. "We should wait until morning to take her any further. He brushed away some final leaves, still amazed at the caravel's condition. "Let's climb aboard."
The sides were low enough that Miro could stand on one of the rollers and hoist himself up. He reached down and helped Amber up behind him. She clambered up the side, and soon they both stood on the deck.
The main mast and mizzen mast had been taken down before the ship had been left, but Miro was pleased to see the two stout masts lying side by side on the deck. The ship had a single companionway heading below, while the captain's cabin evidently occupied the space below the raised castle on the stern.
She had a tiller rather than a wheeled helm, a horizontal length of wood on the afterdeck that would directly control the rudder. Miro guessed she had probably had a crew of about twenty men.
Miro found the sails in a forward stowage area while Amber entered the ship's interior and called out.
"There are empty water barrels in here," she said. "Also there's fishing gear."
"We'll fill the barrels at the river tonight," Miro said. "And we'll bring as many shellfish as we can. Hopefully we can use them as bait to catch something bigger."
Amber then vanished into the captain's cabin.
"Come and see this," she called. "You were right."
Miro ducked under the door and entered the cabin. The interior was in excellent condition, given how much time had elapsed.
There were no charts spread out at the navigator's desk, but there was a note, written in a decisive hand.
On this, my second voyage to find what lies across the Great Western Ocean, I have lost too many men to crew the three caravels I brought with me. Bold adventurer, the Intrepid is now yours to command. If you see me in a tavern, buy me a measure of rum. I drink it neat.
Toro Marossa.
Miro felt a shiver at the age of the message, directed at him, yet written so long ago, and by the world's most famous explorer.
"Do you think we can sail it?" Amber asked.
"We can try," Miro said.
"How will we know where to go?"
"We have to try for this new land. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. East takes us back in the direction of Altura. It's a long, long way, and there's a high probability we'll lose our course, die of thirst, or starve. East takes us to Tomas, lying still and pale, the victim of poison."
Amber nodded.
"Then there is west. West takes us towards this new land, the great continent we know nothing about. It's much closer than Altura, and I think we can make it. West takes us to the homeland of those who had the skill to build these settlements and construct the biggest ships I've seen. There is no guarantee, but these people may have an antidote for their poison."
Amber didn't hesitate. "We're going west. We'll find this new world, and seek help from its people."
Miro nodded. "Come on. Let's fill the water barrels and mount the masts. We'll sleep tonight in the captain's cabin. Tomorrow, we set sail."
~
THE NEXT day saw the Intrepid carve through the waves, Miro at the tiller and Amber keeping the sails trimmed. The caravel moved beautifully through the water, easily navigating the channel and heading out for open sea.
With the Intrepid pointed west the wind came across their beam. While they became accustomed to the ship they sailed only by the lateen-rigged main sail, which was now opened up wide to catch the breeze. The caravel rose and fell on the crests and troughs, large enough to handle the seas yet narrow enough to slice through the water like a knife.
The wind was gentle and morning sun was at their backs. Miro's strength was needed at the tiller but with the sail set Amber was free to fish over the side, quickly snaring three silver fish.
There was no way to cook them, so she used the cutlass to cut fillets and they ate them raw.