by James Spurr
Oliver insisted, “Surely, this will be viewed by all as a mistake! Why, the handbill recounted the darkness, the failure to identify, the first shot making little real sense or giving cause for a pitched battle! There must be a way for men to step back from the line with honor, with respect?”
It was difficult to discern if Oliver was advocating a position he hoped was true, asserting fact he hoped would be recognized, asking a question of his companions who knew more about the sea, or pleading for grace. In the end, even he realized the uncertainty of his position and fell into a despairing look as his Captain and Mate stared at him, nearly incredulous. James shook his head in the negative. William showed more restraint.
Oliver finally confessed, “Let us pray at least, to the Almighty for peace, and for ourselves, restraint.” Oliver was shaken, visibly upset. William bowed his head for an instant, sincerely joining Oliver in prayer. James bowed his out of mere respect and instead thought only about his shipmates: those alive on Chesapeake, to whom he recently bade, “Fare Well!” and those of four years before who, after meeting with a much larger ship, H.M.S. Leopard, he had witnessed slide from between his nation’s flag and a plank, into the deep.
At that moment, Trove rang five bells. A spare moment later he vaulted down the companionway hatch, announced he had left a particularly talented ten year old girl with the helm, and, after asking for dinner, explained to Oliver, “You had best take the helm as soon as your confidence wanes. As for me, I need my strength if we are going to fight the Brits at Fort Malden before landing in Detroit!” Oliver shot him daggers, James was up the companionway in an instant to confirm that the girl’s father and mother were standing at her side, doing a credible job in the easy conditions, while Captain Lee affirmed most bluntly that while this may be the maiden voyage, he would insist on far more professionalism and could abide far fewer pranks than that just played by Trove upon them all.
Trove’s announcement cleared the wardroom. He was left alone to scoop out his dinner and contemplate his extra chores assigned by Captain Lee as punishment. Trove wondered why upon such good news as an impeding free-for-all with the Canadians no one on board was in the finest of spirits with all the opportunity on the near horizon.
Chores completed, Trove and all others were on deck enjoying a beautiful evening by 1900 hours. The first dog watch was relieved and the last, manned by Oliver and James, was on duty. The wind was freshening, now about ten knots, but the deck was organized, the passengers relaxed, and all were invigorated by Friends Good Will seeming to lunge forward, eager in the puffs, like a thoroughbred restrained and in a grand mood to gallop.
The waning light this time of day was typically soothing and often made seamen quiet and reflective. The beauty was imposing and all knew as the sunset approached with the awe and predictability of high ceremony, that the passage had begun well, with all signs, wind, sky and seas, entirely positive.
The shore was a faint haze, indistinct and a mere smudge of occasional vague color on the quarters. The implications of the handbill seemed barely real and now largely irrelevant. Anxieties would return, as they often did, in the inevitable darkness.
Oliver slowly made his way to the leeward shrouds where William was leaning in one of his favorite stations. From the pinrail he often braced himself on the many taught lines leading to the pins which gave way just enough to form naturally to the shape of his shoulders and back. Here he could scan the weather horizon, study the helmsman on the quarterdeck and adjudge the performance of his command as he sighted up the slots of the headsails. Oliver studied William’s reaction as he approached, breaking his concentration, and read instinctively that his presence was welcome. Oliver smiled, sighed and relaxed as he leaned against the boom. There were few tasks for he and James then on watch to attend.
“Pray, Captain Lee, what are your thoughts?”
William was not quite certain which of several topics Oliver was suggesting he address, so naturally chose his favorite.
“I am very pleased. No, really quite impressed. Eckert knows his business, Oliver, and has built for you a very able, very quick sloop. Her lines are finer at the bow, in the modern style, her quarter much hollowed, which while making for close quarters in the wardroom, leaves a nice, fine run aft and effortless movement over the rudder. We are making very good time.”
“You seem to suggest she is different from your other commands.”
“Indeed. Contractor, my latest, was built more than ten years ago. So while this model is quite new to me, I suspect more of such vessels will be appearing on the Lakes in the near future. The day of mackerel heads, or bluff bows and full, rounded midsections, is past, at least for those vessels desiring speed.”
“Greater speed means more voyages, more goods, healthy profits and faster growth.”
“I certainly cannot contest that, although from my point of view, as a merchant master, the additional speed is also safer, allowing for greater maneuvering and the ability to handle herself more capably in rough weather and more likely to avoid dangerous conditions.”
“This, as you know, is my first real voyage on the Lakes. I have little with which to compare or contrast. The sailing I did back in Boston was long ago and just about Massachusetts Bay, really.”
“We will continue to tweak the rigging and get more out of her over the course of the summer, to be sure. But, Oliver, really, having made Detroit to Black Rock in little more than two days on her maiden voyage was well beyond my expectations.” William smiled as he confessed his optimism and excitement.
James rang 8 bells and the short dog watch of just two hours was behind them. “I bid you a good watch, William. I will turn in and get a couple of hours. Thank you for your impressions. Your views reassure me and offer hope on what has otherwise been a difficult day.”
Captain Lee nodded, though both men said nothing more that day of the handbill. Neither had answers and both much preferred to celebrate the optimism and hope brought by Friends Good Will.
Later, with Friends Good Will moving more quickly headlong into the night, the once brilliant moon now striped by fast moving narrow bands of dense clouds, Oliver noticed the ship heeling more than she had since her launch. James had returned on deck and the heeling was more than could be attributed to his novice touch on the helm.
James strode to the compass, noted the heading was a point more to the west than the course given to Presque Isle. He interpreted the signs—taut sails, angle of the waves, now more from the north—and concluded that the wind had suddenly, since their watch had begun just one half hour before, veered some 30 degrees and had increased in velocity.
James asked, “Oliver make one bell, then ease the sheets on each of the headsails to my call. We shall trim the topsail together.” He looked to the moon, assured the clouds would afford them some fair lighting and gestured for Oliver to give over the helm and begin his tasks on the foredeck.
As Oliver rang the bell, James studied the mainsail, reached for a tiller tackle, attached one end to a deck padeye to starboard on the quarterdeck, the other to the grommet on the tiller, and cleated off the line to a slender, carved wooden cleat just below the becket seized on to the line itself. Allowing the increasing weather helm to steer the vessel momentarily, he took three steps aft and eased the mainsheet. With a fuller, more curved shape to the main, the angle of heel eased somewhat and the speed of the vessel increased instantly. Oliver eased the staysail sheet at just that moment and James called, “That’s well.” Oliver eased the jib and outer jib sheet accordingly and the graceful foils, now curved in a beautiful, geometric symmetry, contributed to the power of the large mainsail. Friends Good Will responded eagerly and stretched out her legs for her first time in 13 knots of breeze. She was well balanced and charging ahead.
Oliver rejoined James on the quarterdeck and, at his suggestion, threw the log over the taffrail to which was tied small line, periodically knotted and wound round a spool on handles. The small glass was turne
d, the line ran out and when the sand had run, some 28 seconds later, Oliver confirmed, counting the knots which had run through his hand, “Just more than six!”
James nodded, smiled and took up on the tiller tackle, once again adjusting to the new correct course to Presque Isle, now much easier to keep with the sheets eased. He and Oliver remained at the helm for some seconds thereafter. Oliver was not quite sure of the purpose for their apparent inactivity, as he recalled that James said they must still trim the topsail. Then Oliver noticed that James was not steering, but rather just standing and watching the course and behavior of the ship and of the compass. Friends Good Will steered herself through the night. While the look on James face betrayed the good fun he was having, it also revealed a concentration and employment of skills of seamanship learned over several years and across the world’s oceans.
James adjusted the tiller tackle once more, easing it about two inches, then directed Oliver, “Alright, if you please, ease the outer jib sheet a couple of more inches and I will meet you at the starboard braces.” James was speaking more loudly now, over the rush of the hull through the waves and the water past her sides. Even the wake was excited and the time for hushed murmurs this night was passed.
Oliver eased the outer jib sheet as instructed and crossed from larboard to starboard, stepping carefully over the bowsprit just forward of the windlass. James met him at the pins for the braces. With a square topsail sloop, the braces were led to the tip of the jibboom; hence, the tension was borne by the leeward braces, this night to larboard, keeping the yards from swinging further aft, as they were so prone with the wind on the starboard quarter. James explained this to Oliver and described how they must first haul on the leeward braces, taking advantage of the clear view of the topsail available only from starboard as the staysail obstructed their view from larboard. Pointing up, he explained that the larboard side of the yards must be brought forward. This would cause the starboard braces to go temporarily slack and they would be trimmed last.
James motioned to the larboard topsail yard brace belaying pin, and called, “Now its time go to work! I will take it down to just one turn. You help take the tension as a precaution and when I direct, you put all of your weight and effort to sweating that line, do you understand?”
Oliver replied, “Aye”, and knew that what James undertook required experience, just as what Oliver would attend to required bulk, mass and strength.
“Alright,” called James, “with a will now!”
Oliver grabbed the line leading forward from the pin extending out to the jibboom, leaned forward and down with all his weight, stiff armed, and using the resistance of the line itself allowed himself to be propelled backward and upward. He encouraged the motion with all the muscles of his legs as he rocked back on his feet. The dual motion gained at least a foot and a half of extra line, which James took in quickly from under the pin as Oliver’s mass made it available.
James called, “Very well for a start; now again.”
Encouraged, Oliver gave it all he had, gaining at least the same on the second attempt. Still James demanded a third. This last effort, though sending Oliver off his feet for a moment, all of his body weight at the end of his pull, gained but an inch or two.
James stared at the yard, seemed pleased, and just as Oliver thought that was enough physical labor for an entire watch, though barely one bell into eight, James reminded, “Well enough; now for the main yard!”
Oliver’s hands ached, his chest muscles screamed, but his pride held fast and he pretended to have remembered the main yard all along. The same effort yielded roughly the same result. Next, they stepped over the bowsprit, forward of the windlass and took up the slack on the weather topsail braces far more easily until both were taut. Oliver was most pleased to hear James announce, “Very well. If you could keep watch in the waist, I will check our course and you may join me on the quarterdeck at two bells, in a few minutes.”
Oliver had forgotten that no one was at the helm! But James had balanced the forces well, the tiller tackle kept a fair course for these many lengths and as James checked the course against the compass, was pleased to see Friends Good Will had balanced herself between the weather helm and the waves punching her to leeward. The large powerful main had been eased such that the tendency to round up into the wind was offset by the natural inclination of the smaller headsails to pay off. When combined with the forces of the wind and waves themselves, the weather helm on the tiller was minimized and kept in check by just the single tiller tackle. Indeed, she was through those five minutes only half a point higher than her given course.
A small price to pay so in order not to have to arouse your mates on a night watch, thought James, and he easily corrected the course and congratulated himself while standing proud at the binnacle.
While James was still smirking, Captain Lee poked his head up through the companionway. He checked the new trim, less heel, greater speed, looked at James and said, “Well, done, James. I gather you have no need for assistance?” James shook his head, appeared nonchalant while reveling in the complient. His father replied before ducking below, “Very well. If it kicks up anymore, strike the topsail and outer jib.”
Sometimes, James thought, it was nice to sail with hundreds on the crew, as on a United States frigate, but he only replied with a simple “Aye,” likely committing his watch mate, Oliver, to still more hard effort in the near future.
James checked the larger glass, watched it run, turned it and rang two bells. Oliver joined him on the quarterdeck within moments, a dark murky figure weaving between halyards and lifts, sheets and shadows, and swaying as in a dance only seamen come to love. A dance with the ship herself, swaying on the most expansive and diverse ballroom of them all, the world’s watered surface.
The miles slid by. The striped moon and playful clouds, the rising wind and occasional spray kept the watch entertained, awake and inspired. Well into the trick, however, as fears moved to the forefront and silence demanded thought, Oliver knew he must approach his nephew and delve further into topics involving loyalty, service, patriotism and war. He had known James his entire life, but circumstances had allowed them precious little time together. Still, Oliver reminded himself, he had enjoyed more time with James than had William, James’ own father. For that reason, and many others stemming from familial love to the avoidance of misunderstanding, Oliver, with some trepidation, knew he may not have as good an opportunity for many days. The moon was nearly totally lost to them now and few stars remained. The candle light of the binnacle shone upon a strong, youthful face in his prime.
Oliver began with a question. He believed firmly in that which business had taught him well. Fruitful discussions begin with understanding and on these points he held much too little. “James, tell me, what occurred between Leopard and Chesapeake?”
James looked at him somewhat startled with the break in the silence, and shifted his thoughts from a lass yet haunting him since he had bade her farewell in Baltimore. After concluding the question was not a trick of his imagination, as sometimes occurred in the deep troughs of a night watch, he grappled with how to begin.
“After years of replaying those moments in my mind, there was simply no reason, none at all… Three broadsides, with Chesapeake not properly cleared for action! Where is the honor?” James was barely whispering, the pain was still fresh and the bitterness deep. “You must recall,” James reminded, looking at Oliver, “we were not at war with England, nor any of her allies.”
Oliver nodded, but confessed, “I recall little, frankly of the news reports. It seemed to us you had only recently left Philadelphia. Why,” Oliver smiled, “do you recall our sending you off?”
James nodded. “I had just joined Chesapeake in Norfolk, 12 June, ‘07, proud as a cock on a wall and far more pleased than I had any right to be. By what stroke of luck, I wondered, caused me to be assigned to a frigate! Luck indeed, as fate would have it…”
“You were just eleven
years old, but your father insisted it was a great opportunity and called in some favors to arrange for your berth.”
“And it was that, for certain.” Shaking his head, James admitted, “I was so green and really had no basis in those days to adjudge anything I witnessed or experienced, but I will tell you now exactly what happened. Despite my young age, I swear I will never forget.”
A large wave, at just the wrong angle, smashed into the bow and sent spray over the foredeck and waist. Both James and Oliver were left dry, however, at the binnacle. James adjusted the tiller slightly to account for the wave’s action on the bow, brought her up and then back just a touch and he resolved to concentrate better despite the resurgence in conversation, welcome really, near the end of the watch.
“I took my berth on the starboard watch, quarterdeck division, just days before our departure. We were less than full compliment, which might explain the Navy’s willingness to take me. Still, father had taught me well how to sail, but of course the size and complexity of Chesapeake was overwhelming those first days. I had just begun to learn the layout of the decks below and could recognize a few faces; those to trust, those to stay away from, and how to get through the day, barely, without making a hash of things. We sailed from our mooring amid what seemed to me great confusion.”
Oliver listened intently, watching James’ face, expressions, eyes in the dim light. While James concentrated on steering while relating his tale, Oliver was at leisure, with the sloop well balanced and trimmed, and could concentrate solely on his nephew.
“Chesapeake was the flag, with an entire squadron sailing under Captain Barron, bound for the Med. to relieve Constitution. Many hands were new and either green to the sea or at least to our ship, like me. We were standing down Thimble Shoals Channel and passed the British squadron anchored in Lynnhaven Roads. Leopard weighed and sailed alongside us for more than 40 miles, waiting until well into international waters. I recall observing to my messmate, Nathan, just 16, from Barnstable, that a 50 gun fourth rate to larboard presented an awfully pretty sight.”