The Special Operations Flotilla: The Dorset Boy Book 2

by Christopher C Tubbs

  “Good that gives us 5 days to prepare. I’ll get started first thing in the morning” said Marty

  The next five days saw busy but not frenetic activity as the Snipe and the Ariadne were provisioned and prepared. They checked every inch of cordage on both vessels, re-blacking it and putting new gaskets on where needed. The guns on the Snipe were overhauled but the twelve 6 pounders didn’t pack much of punch. Marty had plans to replace them all with 24 pound Carronades, he just had to convince Armand that it was a good idea. They made sure the sweeps were in good condition and they had spares as they would be needed to get them up the Somme if the wind wasn’t favourable.

  He took time to visit Bill at the Wagon and Horses and briefed him on the trip. The forty men would be at the dock on time and be fully equipped. Marty thanked him and said that he hoped to get the Corvette without a fight but it was best to be prepared. As he left Bill couldn’t help thinking what made a 16 year old miners son from Dorset into the confident, young man he saw walking out of the pub. There was no swagger just a cool confidence in his ability to handle anything that the world threw at him, and then, of course, there was that big bastard of a knife he had tucked under his jacket in the small of his back,

  On his way to the stables, Marty found his way blocked by Susie, the Innkeepers daughter. She was a pretty 17 year old buxom brunette who was on the prowl for a husband and, like most young girls of the time, she was more than prepared to get her chosen man by seduction. She wore a low cut dress that showed off her ample bosom to good advantage and she had a way of swishing her hips that encouraged lewd thoughts. “Hello Martin” she purred “where be you off to?”

  “If I told you that” he said with a smile “I would have to kill you”

  “Well we wouldn’t want that now would we. I wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun dead now would I” She replied and leaned back against the wall inviting him to move in on her. Marty was sorely tempted but her timing was all wrong, he had to get back to The Farm. So he lent forward kissed her soundly on the lips, pulled her away from the wall, turned her towards the entrance to the Inn and slapped her on the behind.

  “I have to go” he said “maybe next time”

  She flounced and looked back at him over her shoulder. “If there is a next time sailor boy” she taunted

  He got his horse and led it out of the stable and had to adjust himself to make it comfortable to mount. He knew all about the relations between men and women and what went on. He was now at an age where he was having the urge to try it for himself but right now he had to focus on the job in hand. Life was difficult sometimes.

  Back at The Farm everything seemed to have gone as planned and both the Cutter and the Fishing boat were ready to go with food and water being loaded at the last minute. Marty carefully checked the stores to make sure no one had sneaked any alcohol onboard. He wanted strict control of any that they were given, as even the best sailors tendended to binge if it were freely available.

  Nine o’clock saw the dock full of men bristling with weapons. Marty called off the 10 crew for the Ariadne which included both Tom Savage and John Smith and got them boarded. Five was enough to sail the boat so he split his four regular Navy men and teamed them with three smugglers per watch. The Ariadne was almost identical to the boats they used so they knew how to sail her. This would also keep the men fresh doing 4 hours on and 4 Off.

  Armand soon had the cutter ready to go and was casting off. Marty waited until she was out into the stream and then cast off the Ariadne and fell in a cable length astern of her.

  The wind was seasonally from the west and the conditions were fine as they stood out into the Dover Straights and turned due south with the wind on their beam.

  They were not particularly fast craft and given the conditions were able to log around 8 -10 knots. Although it was fine sailing weather to start with it all changed around midnight. The wind started to veer from the west round towards the south and the sea started to pick up. They were forced to tack to make any southing at all and if they had been in square riggers they would have been in even more trouble but the gaff rigged sales both vessels had allowed them to sail close to the wind.

  It took a further nine hours to travel the last thirty five miles to see them off the Somme Estuary. They reduced sail and started to feel their way in. The Snipe had men swinging a lead to take the depth as they crept along under minimum sail, even though they had smugglers aboard who had entered the river before.

  The wind suddenly dropped to practically nothing so they had to run out the sweeps. They flew the French flag to confuse any observers. Having no sail set at all helped as well but anyone who knew their ships would spot that the Snipe had a British rig. The channel turned to the southwest and they continued on for a couple of miles. The village with its quay came into view and there, tied up, was the corvette just as had been reported.

  Marty could see she probably carried 18 guns in ports along the sides and at a guess four pop guns on each of the fore and aft decks. She looked deserted with her sails in harbour gaskets and her yards all askew as if she had been abandoned. The distance dropped until the Snipe passed the Corvette and turned to moor with her bow pointing down river directly behind her. By now they were beginning to attract attention so Armand started shouting orders in French and the men ran around as if they understood them.

  Marty ran the Ariadne up alongside the corvette and one of his men hooked onto her chains with a boathook. He scrambled up the side followed by all the men. He also shouted orders in French for effect but his men knew what they had to do without them. Half went below to look for the harbour crew. A couple of seconds later there was a very womanly squeal from the Captain’s cabin. He was tempted to go and see what was afoot but at that moment the men from the Snipe arrived. He now had his crew.

  He detailed Tom and John Smith to get the harbour gaskets off her and to set her up for sailing. He looked over the side to the quay. Armand was there and called up in French “Get her moving as fast as you can, we will follow you out”

  “Oui, mon Capitaine” called Marty back to him.

  “Get a leadsman in the chains” he ordered “and break out the sweeps, we’re going to have to row the bitch out of here”

  He suddenly realised Bill Clarence was stood beside him.

  “Didn’t know you were coming on this pleasure cruise” he grinned at him

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world”. Bill laughed back

  Marty noticed a movement on the Quay. He looked over and saw a local with a startled look suddenly turn and run towards the town. Damn he must of heard him speak in English!. Marty drew a pistol but the man was too far away to drop.

  “Damn” he swore “Get those sweeps out and get us away NOW!” he shouted “we’ve been rumbled!”

  He looked to the guns and saw that only 4 per side were there. “Get those guns loaded with canister” he yelled at Tom who grabbed two hands and went down below to find the magazine. He was back two minutes later empty handed.

  “Not a grain of powder on board Sir’” he reported

  “Shit” Marty thought hard “Get all the men to prime their pistols and lay them down along the Larboard side of the deck and then get them back to getting us out of here”

  “John! Get the Ariadne tied up astern for towing”

  “Bill, put two men on each sweep and run out as soon as we be clear”

  “Cut the moorings!”

  The thud of axes was soon replaced by a swoosh as the mooring ropes dropped over the side and the men pushed her away from the quay. The current was sluggish so she moved slowly.

  There was a shout from the direction of the town and a half dozen blue uniforms appeared a hundred yards away. One knelt and there was a puff of smoke and a bang as he fired his musket.

  A voice to his right said “May I sir?” and he saw that it was one of his marines, Dibble, if he remembered correctly an ex-poacher and crack shot.

  “Be my guest” s
aid Marty

  Dibble cocked his musket and rested it on the rail as he took aim. He became still, took a breath, let it out and then the hammer flipped forward, the primer lit with a whoosh and then the main charge went off with a bang and a cloud of smoke. One hundred yards away, one of the blue uniforms jerked and fell to the ground. There was a second shot and Marty saw that another marine had fired as well. He didn’t see if he had hit.

  He went to the wheel and took over the steering. The men were now working the sweeps in a steady rhythm set by Bill, who was manning one of the sweeps himself. He looked behind and the Snipe was just pushing away from the dock. The blue uniforms had disappeared.

  They were out in the centre of the channel when a lookout spotted the horsemen on the south bank. They were just keeping pace with them when one turned away and galloped off.

  They had turned to the northwest and were moving a little faster and Marty ordered the men on the sweeps to be changed.

  “Deck there” hailed a lookout “there be something ‘appening on that headland up ahead”

  Marty handed over the wheel to Tom and grabbing a telescope headed up the main mast shrouds to the topsail yard. He steadied the glass and focused on the point. He was a little confused by what he saw at first, he could see cavalry but they were leading their horses away on foot. Then he swung back to the point and his breath caught in his throat. Horse artillery! There were three Howitzers lined up on the point and he was the target.

  He shinned down a stay to the deck and ran back up to the stern rail. He waved at the Snipe which was 40 yards behind and yelled. Armand appeared at the bow. Marty pointed to the headland and mimed shooting. Armand looked confused and then called up to the lookout. He must have gotten a reply because he raised both hands thumbs up and turned away shouting orders.

  Marty saw the gun ports open and the 6 pounders run out. I bloody hope he kept the gunners on board, he thought.

  They came up to the point and Marty put an extra man on each sweep. That gave them about an extra quarter knot.

  “We must be doing all of 2 knots now” he said to Tom “let’s hope they be rotten shots because we be fish in a barrel”.

  “Well, we be about to find out” said Tom, nodding to the guns.

  The middle Howitzer fired first and they heard the shot whistle overhead and then there was a bang as it exploded about 40 yards past them.

  “Exploding shells??” Marty yelled at Tom “This is bloody dangerous!”

  Tom laughed and said “Trust the bloody army to come up with something like that”

  The second gun fired and this one exploded close enough that some of the shrapnel landed on their deck. No one was hit but it scared the hell out of them. The third gun fired and Marty yelled “EVERY ONE GET DOWN!”

  This time it was right over their heads and there was a hail of shrapnel as it burst over the fore deck. Two men were left screaming in agony from hits and the foremast had a number of bites taken out of it.

  Then there was the rolling sound of a broadside being loosed as the Snipe opened up with her six pounders. Marty got to his feet and looked towards the headland. All but one of the shot went wide and that one hit short, directly in line with the guns, and ricocheted up taking out two men.

  There was a cordon of infantry along the shore about thirty feet away and they let fly with a musket volley that, thankfully, went mostly high.

  “To the Larboard side!” he yelled “Get a pistol!” He knew the chances of hitting anything at that range was remote but his marines were already there and taking aim with their muskets.

  “Hold Fire!” he ordered and waited until the men were all ready.

  “Take aim! FIRE!”

  The cloud of smoke was impressive as most of the men had two pistols each and then there were the 6 muskets as well. He heard at least one scream from the shore so somebody had scored a hit.

  That got them enough time to get just round the point. The French guns traversed and fired again, but they had spoiled the range and the shots went over. The Snipe opened up again but Marty couldn’t see what the result was as they had made the turn around the headland and were entering the estuary proper.

  As they cleared the lee of the land they found a southerly breeze and Marty called for sails to be set and the sweeps to be run in. The men who had manned them were exhausted and collapsed to the deck. Marty looked for Bill and saw him propped by the mainmast with his left arm in a sling. He saw Marty looking and raised his right and waved. Marty grinned back and then concentrated on steering them out of there.

  They made the sea without further incident and Marty handed over the wheel to John Smith.

  He walked over to Bill.

  “You OK?” he asked as he dropped to the deck beside him.

  “Been better” Bill replied. “Are all your adventures so bloody dangerous?” he asked with a grin.

  “Yup so far they have and this one weren’t anywhere near the worst” Marty answered, “but it is fun though isn’t it” he added with a laugh.

  Bill started to laugh “Fun! You call this bloody fun!” he laughed harder and Marty joined him until they were leaning against each other laughing till they hiccupped and then one or the other would say “Fun!” and they would start again. Soon the laughter had spread right around the ship.

  On the Snipe, Armand caught the sound as it carried back on the wind. He shook his head and smiled to himself.

  Chapter 9. Horse Trading

  Once back in harbour and securely tied up, they said goodbye to the smugglers and started taking inventory of what they had stolen. They still had the harbour watch that the French had left on board and a young woman, the one Marty had heard scream. They would be handed over to the Navy proper and dealt with appropriately.

  The guns that had been left on the Alouette were useless. The barrels honeycombed and more dangerous to the gun crew than the target. So they just piled them on the shore and left them. The fore mast was chipped by shrapnel but was sound enough and could continue to be used and the rigging was easily repaired. All in all, they had a serviceable ship.

  They decided not to report her capture to the Admiralty as they figured the Navy would take her away from them if they did and that would defeat the whole purpose of the exercise.

  A couple of days later Marty took a horse and rode to Chatham to see a man who was purported to be a dealer in everything and was recommended to him by one of the smugglers. As Marty rode up to the address he had been given he found himself approaching a well-appointed medium size house in a ‘nice’ area with a well-kept flower garden in front of it.

  He got off his horse, looped his reigns through a hitching ring and went to the front door. He was about to knock when the door opened and a man in an old red smoking jacket and a blue and black tapestry smoking cap stood looking at him.

  “Mr Fletcher?” Marty asked

  “Who wants to know?” the man replied

  “A friend of the free traders” Marty responded as he had been instructed.

  The man looked around checking Marty was alone and then beckoned him inside. The house was clean and tidy and tastefully furnished. There were no servants that he could see as he followed the man into a library.

  Fletcher sat at a desk and indicated Marty should sit in an armchair near to it. Marty noted that he was now lower than Fletcher and had to look up to him. I will have to remember this trick, he thought.

  “Well what can I do for you Mr…?” he asked

  “Stockley, Martin Stockley” Marty replied “I am told you can get anything for the right price.”

  “Most things, most things” Fletcher smiled in reply and sat back with his hands clasped across his stomach.

  “Well I am in need of some ships cannon” Marty said

  “Really? They can be awful hard to come by. What size and how many did you have in mind?” Fletcher asked taking out a sheet of paper and picking up a pen.

  Marty smiled, took out a sheet of paper fr
om his inside pocket and handed it over.

  “Let me see” said Fletcher, as he read the list.

  “Twelve 24 pound Carronades, plus cannister, Bar and round shot”

  “Eighteen French 9 pound cannon plus round, bar, chain shot and cannister”

  “Four 36 pound Carronades , plus cannister, Bar and round shot”

  “60 French Sea Service Pattern muskets”

  “2000 ball and cartridges for the muskets”

  “10 tons of Navy standard powder”

  “Are you fighting a private war? No don’t answer that I don’t need to know. How will you pay? This is an expensive list.”

  “Half now in gold and the rest on delivery” Marty replied

  Fletcher looked at him appraisingly “and how am I to trust its quality?”

  Marty opened the saddle bag he had carried in over his shoulder and took out a pouch which clinked. He tossed it onto the desk and said

  “Well I reckon you could test it and weigh it if that would satisfy you”

  Fletcher looked surprised but reached out and picked up the pouch, weighing it in his hand as he opened the draw string. He tipped the contents on the desk. Gold coins slid over each other.

  “Hmm French Louis d’Or”, he selected one at random and bit it. Satisfied he got out a pair of goldsmiths scales and weighed it. He then selected another and did the same.

  “They seem to be the genuine article.” He said “Your order will cost three thousand in total, including carriage. So I will require one thousand five hundred pounds in advance.” He sat back with a smug smile on his face.

  “Oh I don’t think so” said Marty “The French guns would have been sold for scrap and as the Carronades have been ‘diverted’ from Navy yards at ten bob on the pound at most. I reckon we are looking at a fair price of fifteen hundred pound which will give you a fair profit” he pulled out two more pouches of coins and then one more. “That’s the equivalent of seven hundred and fifty pound there on the table”.