by Michael Aye
Smiling to himself, Gabe recalled Lord Ragland making similar remarks. Faith had gone further, “Who do you think is going to mess with us with Lum and Sam around?” Lum would cause a man to think twice about harming his family. But one look at Sam and a body would rather, as Lum said, “French kiss a rattlesnake.” Gabe had never quite understood the term, “French kiss”, but he got the overall jest. Sam, or Sampson, was a huge bull mastiff. He’d saved the dog and brought him home, but he was all Faith’s dog. He went almost everywhere she did, often lounging in the carriage when she went in somewhere. More than one person had changed his direction when they’d come too close to suit Sam. He’d rise up and give a low deep growl and all of a sudden the individual would find an alternate route. Sam had never actually bitten anyone…well, only one rogue. Faith’s deranged Uncle Montague. He had shot Lum and was intending to have his way with Faith when Sam tore a door down and killed the man. The dog loved Faith and little James. He tolerated Gabe. Faith would hug the big brute and let him kiss, Gabe called it “lick”, her face.
Once, after Sam had given her a big lick, she held her face for Gabe to kiss. “You want me to kiss you after what he just did?” Gabe asked incredibly.
“Humph” Faith snorted. “He doesn’t seem to mind after you’ve kissed me.” Gabe leaned over and kissed the air next to her face. “Well! I see who really loves me. Come on, Sam.” The big dog got up, shook, and gave Gabe a look that said, “You see who she loves.”
He could hear noises from the kitchen. Lum was probably building a fire in the stove for Nanny to make coffee. No matter how early he had to leave, Nanny would, at least, have coffee and a pastry ready for him. He suddenly wondered if Hex and Dagan were stirring yet.
“Whatcha thinkin’, Cap’n?” Faith asked, mimicking one of his sailors.
“I was thinking how beautiful you are and how much I enjoy loving you.”
Faith gave him a passionate kiss, and then pulling the gown over her shoulders, whispered, “Then prove it, sailor.” Gabe proved it.
CHAPTER THREE
THE EARLY DAWN SEEMED to last forever. When the sun finally did rise above the horizon, low dark clouds were overhead. In the distance, the dark clouds and the sea seemed to merge. Rain started to spatter down, just a few drops to start with, and then they increased. Lieutenant Con Vallin had the watch. He had just recently arrived in Barbados. Admiral Anthony had sent him to HMS Trident as a temporary assignment. Not a bad assignment, a trip to Antigua and then back aboard Bulldog. Trident only had a crew large enough to sail the wounded ship to the dockyard. Of course, nothing had been said that they had to rush back. A night or two in Antigua would not be amiss.
Vallin liked the Caribbean. He didn’t feel the looks and stares here that he felt in England or Scotland. His father had been the wayward first son of a Scottish lord. He’d traveled to the colonies, which was nothing out of the way in his father’s eyes, but he then did the unthinkable and married a Creek Indian princess. It didn’t end there.
When the wife died in childbirth, the father, instead of leaving the lad with his mother’s people, had brought him home with him to Glasgow. As a child, Con’s life was that of any boy. It was when he was older that his life changed. His complexion was darker than his Scottish relatives and while his hair was black as a raven, his father and other male Vallins had red hair. He was faster, stronger, a better marksman, and with time, a better fighter. He had to be. There was always some bully who wanted to try him.
Once his grandfather died, his father became lord of the manor and soon took a bride. Con was sure it was the new bride who pushed his father into sending him to the navy. Con had grown up near the sea, and enjoyed it, so at the age of fourteen he was sent aboard his first ship. His first captain was surprised that the son of a Scottish lord was as dark as he was and had probably guessed why he was sent to sea. At any rate, he felt affection for the boy and while Con received no special favors, he was always assigned duties where an old hand taught him well.
That was seven years ago. Most of his time had been spent in the Caribbean and Indian Ocean. He had always hoped he’d find a way to the colonies to see his mother’s people, but thus far, that hadn’t happened. He’d only returned home to Scotland one time. While his father welcomed him, his wife had been cordial at best. He had two brothers, both redheaded and very white. They seemed happy being around their half Indian brother, but Con knew it would be a relief to his father’s wife when he left. His father had always been generous and Con was given an allowance that afforded him more freedom than some. His life aboard ship had been good. It took a while for a new officer or captain to accept him. However, his abilities as a seaman always won them over. He’d been a lieutenant for just over three years now. His last ship was headed to England, so he asked for and received a transfer to HMS Seahorse. Now that he was assigned to temporary duty, he felt a sense of freedom not felt on the flagship.
After reporting on board, he’d met Lieutenant Laqua with his shiny new uniform and the two became friends. Of course, Laqua told him about Sir Gabe’s exploits and how he now was under a cloud. He’d met the captain two days ago and, while he was friendly and receptive, Vallin could tell his mind was elsewhere. At quarters that morning, he’d come on deck, made sure HMS Bulldog was on station and that the horizon was clear, and then he went back below.
The deck pumps were still rigged and had to be manned, one hour out of four. Not bad, but certainly not good.
The cry from the lookout startled Vallin as he’d been deep in his own thoughts. “Looks like flotsam in the water, two points to larboard,” he called down. Vallin walked over to the larboard side and looked over the rail. The clouds and rain made it hard to see but sure enough there was debris floating on the ocean.
At first, just a piece of bulwark, and then the stump of a yardarm, a large chuck of grating, a section of a longboat, some rope, and half-submerged barrels. Vallin was about to send for the captain when he realized Sir Gabe was on deck.
“Have somebody see if they can hook a piece of the debris and see if we can get an idea of what ship it might be from,” Gabe said.
“It’s probably from one of the ships in the convoy that sailed earlier in the week,” Hex volunteered.
“Might be,” Gabe grunted. “Signal Bulldog to close,” Gabe ordered.
When the ship was within hailing distance, Gabe picked up the speaking trumpet and ordered Captain Kirk to sail back and forth, looking for more flotsam or maybe even a body. After an hour of searching, a body was found clinging to a partially submerged hatch cover, and then there were more bodies. Sharks were also spotted.
“Deck thar! Ship just off the larboard bow, just off the horizon,” the lookout advised.
“Signal Bulldog to investigate,” Gabe ordered. Vallin curiously climbed up the shrouds a few feet trying for a better view. After a moment or so, Gabe asked, “Can you tell anything of her?”
“Not much, Captain,” Vallin replied. “She appears jury-rigged, not under full sail.”
As soon as Vallin was back on deck, Gabe ordered, “Alter course, Mr. Vallin, so that we may close with this ship.”
“Aye, Captain.”
A few minutes later, the lookout called again, “She’s jury-rigged right enough, sir. Only a stump of a mast standing with sail.”
Within the hour, Trident had closed with the wounded ship. She was the Leopard…HMS Leopard of fifty guns. A new two decker who had been the main escort for the convoy who’d anchored in Carlisle Bay, not a week before. The convoy must have been attacked, and one of the enemies’ ships must have carried some weight for Leopard to look so beaten. Gabe could see but one officer on deck as Trident closed.
“We will cross, I think,” Gabe advised Laqua. “Roust out the surgeon, Jake,” Gabe said to his cox’n.
Soon they were on board the battered ship. The only standing officer was a young lieutenant. He had been the third lieutenant on the ship. “It was a surprise attack, Sir Gabe,” Lieutenant To
lbert explained. “We didn’t know the Dons had joined in the war as allies with the colonials. There were three ships in a line, and as they closed they opened up their gunports and cut loose. The captain was struck down, the first and second lieutenant, and a helmsman were all killed with the first broadside. The next two Dons passed in succession with guns blazing, blasting us to hell. We were dead in the water. The convoy and the other escorts scattered as the captain had ordered, with instructions to rendezvous in English Harbour.”
Doctor Cornish returned on deck to report on the captain’s condition. “He has a splinter in his face and may lose an eye. His left arm will have to be removed as it has been shattered in several places. How soon will we be in Antigua?” Cornish asked.
“Two, maybe three, days sailing, slow as we are,” Gabe answered.
“I will remove the arm now, then. To wait much longer will only result in gangrene,” Cornish said.
“Alright,” Gabe said. “We will try to lie hove to while you do what you can for the captain. We will also effect what repairs we can. Lieutenant Vallin, cross over to Trident and have the bosun and the carpenter return with their mates.” Seeing an overturned gun carriage, he added, “Have the gunner come over as well.”
With the combination of Leopard’s and Trident’s surviving professional men, repairs could be done more effectively and hopefully before anymore enemy ships showed up.
Damn, we are near helpless, Gabe thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE ECHO OF THE salute had not cleared the harbor when the signal for ‘captain, repair on board’ was hoisted. Anticipating this, Gabe had made provisions and had Lieutenant Tolbert aboard Trident prior to land fall. Rear Admiral Dutch Moffett was in command of British Naval Forces in Antigua. He had been Lord Anthony’s flag captain some years before, so Gabe didn’t feel the apprehension he usually felt when reporting to an admiral.
Moffett’s flag lieutenant was waiting at the entrance when Gabe crossed through the flagship’s entry ports. “The admiral will see you below, Sir Gabe,” the lieutenant announced, letting Captain Kirk and Lieutenant Tolbert know they’d have to wait. The flag captain must have been ashore as it was the first lieutenant who invited them down to the wardroom for a quick glass.
Once announced, Admiral Moffett called Gabe in using his first name. He’d known Gabe since he was little more than a boy, so titles and rank were not used. Moffett asked about the family and inquired about Lord Anthony, Lady Deborah, and Macayla. He then surprised Gabe. “I congratulate you on your recent victories.” Lifting a glass in a toast, he said, “It’s bad business, this thing with Kirkstatter, bad business. Has influence, I’m told. Otherwise, war or not, he’d be on the beach. Not sure what the Admiralty was thinking.”
Gabe reported their finding the Leopard, barely making way under jury-rig. After he finished his narrative, Moffet leaned back. “I’d just gotten word our ground troops were finally making a show of it with the tide turning in our favor. Now the Dons are out. Spain doesn’t care what the colonies do. This is just a chance to get a knife in us. Maybe win some leverage that will pry us out of Florida or somewhere similar.” Sitting forward in his chair, Moffett asked about Captain Price, Leopard’s captain.
“Doctor Cornish feels he should be able to fully recover, given time. Of course, he’s lost his arm but that should not prevent him from returning to sea.”
“And Leopard?” Moffett inquired. “You said you’d been able to repair her so that she’s serviceable.”
“Aye, sir. Paint and provisions and she’d be ready to sail,” Gabe replied. “Of course, she is in need of officers and men.”
Moffett nodded, his hands together making a steeple under his chin. He leaned back and then as if making decision, he said, “The men you have on Trident, if you added those to Leopard, would that give you a full complement?”
“Close, sir,” Gabe replied.
“And you have two lieutenants with you?” Moffett asked.
“Aye, sir, one of them was just promoted from a master’s mate.”
“Do you trust him, Gabe?”
“I do, sir. I made him an acting lieutenant while in the Indian Ocean. He was in temporary command of Trident and brought her home.”
“Hmm, young but an officer you trust. Of course, I’d have to loan you an officer so that you’d have someone to help stand watch,” Moffett said.
“I’m not sure I understand, Admiral,” Gabe replied.
“Gil has to be made aware the Dons are out. I got his dispatch about the privateers. He will be close in to Spanish waters. I don’t want him surprised by some fleet out of Havana or San Juan. I’m going to put you in temporary command of Leopard. Your orders are simple. Find Lord Anthony and make him aware that Spain has joined the war. You will then be under his orders. Bulldog will sail along with you.” Moffett then paused again as if in thought. “Have you ever met a black British naval officer, Gabe?”
“No sir. I have heard of John Perkins though. He is, or was, one of Admiral Rodney’s officers.”
As if not hearing Gabe’s reply, the admiral spoke again, “I have the addition of a new sloop, the Lynx of fourteen guns.” Moffett continued, “Her commander is Lieutenant Leonard Montgomery. He is a pleasant man, a fine seaman; well spoken and he is black. I’m thinking his Lynx would be just the type of shallow draft vessel Lord Anthony could use in his search for privateers.”
Gabe let his mind absorb this. “May I speak openly, sir?”
“Of course, Gabe, there’s just the two of us here.”
“You are not just sending him away due to his race, are you?” Gabe asked.
Moffett, who had stood up, sat back down. After a moment, he spoke, “Maybe, in part, his race does enter the picture. I don’t have enough for his ship to do to keep him busy. Even sending him out on patrol with a couple of frigates as a tender, he’d still be in port much of the time. In truth, Gabe, I don’t want him ostracized. I think if he is left here on this small island it would not be beneficial to anyone.”
Gabe nodded. It had cost the admiral to be truthful. He might not have been to someone else. “I, of course, will be glad to have Lynx with us.”
Moffett stood up and shook Gabe’s hand. “I will have your orders drawn up. I will also put a crew aboard Trident to see her over to the dockyard. Be prepared to take on provisions in the morning.”
As Gabe started to depart, Moffett stopped him again. “Dine with me tonight, Gabe. If you like I’ll send invitations to Kirk and Montgomery.”
“Thank you, sir. I think that would be good. We can all get acquainted,” Gabe replied.
“Right you are. Having a small squadron under your command will show the Admiralty what we think of you, Gabe. You’ll come out from under this cloud. I have faith in you, Gabe.” Looking at the admiral, Gabe realized he meant it.
***
ABOARD SHIP, THE SUN was finding holes in the clouds and the deck was starting to heat up. The breeze was enough to keep the sails filled but not much more. Gabe had spent the last hour going over journals, signing papers for the purser and the carpenter, and God only knew who all else. Wiping the previous captain’s pen thoroughly, he put it in the desk drawer. He could hear Josh Nesbit puttering in the pantry. He and Jake Hex had taken a boat ashore and purchased enough supplies to last a month. The quick decision to put a crew together, replenish the ship, fill her holds with water and put her to sea in under three days was something of a minor miracle. At one point, a body could have walked to shore using water hoys and small crafts of every type that were waiting to come alongside of HMS Leopard.
Up on deck, Laqua and Vallin were talking to the new Lieutenant Bufford. From the sounds of the voices they were getting along well. Tolbert was in the hole with Cornish making sure the supplies had been loaded so as to prevent spoilage as much as possible. The dinner with Admiral Moffett had turned out well. Before the evening was over, Kirk and Montgomery were visualizing how their ships could be sent into
cays and shallow waters after the privateers. Minds on prize money most likely, Gabe surmised. But why not, he’d done the same.
CHAPTER FIVE
GABE WALKED UP ON deck, Dagan and Hex followed. It was not hot and without Gabe’s coat it would have been chilly. However, in an hour or so after the sun had risen, the deck planks would be hot. More than one had already seen the surgeon for blisters on their feet where they’d stepped on a deck seam where the tar was bubbling up.
As the sun started to break the horizon, Gabe could distinguish the binnacle box, the faint light inside illuminating the compass so that it could be read. Laqua had the watch and was speaking to a helmsman. Seeing the captain, the helmsman suddenly rubbed his nose with his index finger pointing. A private signal but done in such an obvious manner, Dagan had to stifle a laugh, but that was alright. The man cared enough for the lieutenant that he had tried to warn him the captain was on deck. Gabe wondered if newly made Lieutenant Laqua had thought six months ago he’d be standing watch on a warship as a lieutenant.
After all the lieutenants had gathered together, Vallin turned out to be the senior so he was now the first lieutenant. Lieutenant Bufford was only a few months Vallin’s junior, so he was second lieutenant. Tolbert, who was third lieutenant, previous to the Don’s attack, was still third and Laqua was the fourth lieutenant. A full complement of officers, a good surgeon, and close to a full crew, Gabe knew Moffett had been generous.
The sun continued to push the gray dawn westward, but soon it would be full day. If the horizon was clear the guns would be secured and the daily routine would start. It would be the same routine every day, barring inclement weather or an enemy in sight. The pumps would be rigged, the decks scrubbed and holystoned, then flagged dry, brass might be polished with brick dust. It would then be sail drill, gun drill, fire drill, or any other drill or combination of drills that came to the captain’s mind.
The first day at sea, Gabe had run both sail and gun drills. He was satisfied with neither. He had a lot of men but as yet they had not molded into a crew. Each drill showed improvement but when it came to ship handling and gun drill, Gabe was a hard task master. Most of the men that came over today were alive because of it. Vallin must have had a difficult task master at some point, as his views had been the same as his captain. He’d quickly put new divisions together, sprinkling the new hands in messes with the old. Every gun crew had a very experienced gun captain to train members of his crew.