Thunder On the Sea: A Tim Phillips novel (War at Sea Book 11)

by Richard Testrake

  Instead, the ship would remain at sea, far enough out where she could not be spotted by land-based telescopes. Her boats would be manned with all the armed people they could get in them, just leaving a small crew aboard the brig to take her back in case of misfortune.

  The boats would proceed to the estuary in which the frigate lay. Assuming she had only a small crew to actually sail the ship, Phillips thought if they could take the ship by surprise, they might be able to get her out to sea before they were discovered.

  It was still very early when the ship came to off the mouth of the estuary. The hands had already been told off and issued their weapons, so it was only a few minutes delay for them to pile into the boats.

  There was some trouble finding the proper channel of the estuary. Their initial trial ended up at a mud flat. They had to retrace their course and try another route. This did lead to the ship, but the raiding party knew they could never take the ship out by way of that channel, it being too narrow and shallow.

  Nevertheless, dawn was about to break, and there was no more time to explore more routes. As they approached the frigate, the first noticeable impression the men had of it, was the stench.

  Although other slave ships they had captured had the same distinctive odor, this one was far and away the strongest. As they closed in, they could hear the chorus of groans and cries from the ship.

  There seem to be no activity on the upper deck though and Phillips thought the ship's anchor watch might be asleep.

  Accordingly, the attacking boats eased carefully toward the dark hull. The sun was now creeping up and although their target was moored under a canopy of tall trees growing from the nearby bank, there was enough light to see the ship they were seeking. It was indeed the former French Minerve class frigate they had pursued weeks before.

  Now close to shore, they could see fires back in the jungle and could hear the sounds of a celebration. Drums were beating and men were shouting to the beat.

  Phillips had his boat pull around to the side closest the shore. The frigate was moored fore and aft between two large trees on the bank, but there should be no trouble cutting the cable. He had three boats full of men with him. He delegated his own boat crew to remain in the boat and help tow the ship out into the channel to make it more difficult for reinforcements from shore to assist the frigate's crew remaining on board. He himself, would attempt to board the ship to direct activities there.

  All others, including the armed passengers on his own boat were to swarm aboard and secure the price. At his word, men in the boats began sawing away at the mooring cables. Before they were finished, his own boat closed the ship and the bowman reached out with his boat hook and snagged the fore chains.

  There were a few lubberly looking lines hanging down from the head. Apparently a work crew had been making some repair there and had not properly secured their gear.

  It was only after the first men began to climb aboard that the ship's anchor watch wakened. There were only five of them, and for a few moments it was an even fight between the slavers man and the attackers. Momentarily though, more men swarmed aboard and soon that anchor watch was overwhelmed.

  Now the people chained below began adding their cries and screams to the commotion. Phillips felt the ship’s head come around as the single boat began to pull. The ship was not prepared to sail. Her canvas was all in a sail locker below. With tumult erupting onshore and a few members of the ship’s crew aboard secured, Phillips ordered many of his men back into the boats to help pull. They got her out into the fairway, but then canoes were noticed loading with natives.

  He had men searching in the sail locker for the appropriate canvas, while others are searching for charges for the guns on deck.

  This former 40 gun frigate, was now armed with eight, eight pounder long guns, and a dozen swivels. She had a pair of 8-pounders up forward and a pair on the quarterdeck. More guns on each beam were trained outboard. Swivels were also mounted on strategic places on each beam. There was instant commotion as men were called away from other necessary tasks to locate ammunition for the guns, but finally, as canoes were closing on the ship, a couple of guns were readied.

  The first gun emitted not the ear-splitting crash one might expect but instead a dull ‘whump’ and a cloud of brown powder smoke. The charge of grape barely made it to the first canoe. Phillips suspected some of the crewmen of the canoes might have sore heads tonight from the heavy grapeshot falling on them, but there were probably no fatalities. The second gun gained them a little respect though. It fired with the normal enthusiasm expected and the charge beat in the side of one craft and eliminated half its crew.

  Swivels mounted on the rails began barking, adding their carnage to the total. Now, some canvas had been hoisted from the hatch and some headsails raised. Mister Davis was managing this task and soon the frigate was on her way out into the harbor away from the menace of the people on shore.

  As they gained a little respite and matters became better organized on deck, a boat crew was sent out to locate the proper channel to escape to the sea. At length, the bosun reported with a glum look on his face. “Sir, it looks like all the channels are too shallow. They must have brought her in on a high tide and were just waiting for another high tide to take her out.”

  “Have you any recommendations, Mister Ornsby?”

  “Hard to say, sir. One channel is marked with blazes on some of the trees ashore, and might be the one they used to bring her in. There is barely depth enough for most of the length, but there is one spot of shallow water. The bottom there is pure mud and maybe we could pull her out with the capstan, but what would we use for hands? We don’t have near enough to draw out a ship this size.”

  “Let’s try getting some of the Blacks up on deck. Maybe we can show them what we are up against. Maybe some of them will help us with the capstan.”

  As a confused group were brought up on deck, still in their chains, the frigate sailed to the entrance of the selected channel. Ashore, the people there had begun to get themselves in order and some were firing muskets at the ship. It was long range and so far nobody had suffered any ill effects, but it was still early days yet.

  The group just brought up were looking outboard in alarm at the musketry. One of the boats took an anchor cable ashore and fastened it to a stout tree. This cable must be defended by the two starboard eight-pounder guns up forward.

  When all was secure ashore, the cable was nipped to the ship’s messenger cable. This was an endless loop running from the ship’s capstan forward to a large block. At the bosun’s word, men inserted the capstan bars into the capstan’s head. After ‘swifting’ the bars to keep them from coming out, the crew members available put their chests to the bars and began pushing.

  It was then someone on shore got a gun working. It was only a small one, probably four pounds or so, but it was unpleasant to have the shot falling around them.

  By now, some of the African brought up from below got the idea this new crop of evil whites might be trying to get them away from the others. Individually, these men began drifting over to the capstan and lending their brawn to the work. More hands were brought up from below and some of them also voluntarily bent to the task.

  A number of the captives though, decided to avenge themselves on these people right in front of them. One individual, taking his chance, seized a crow bar from the nearby gun and began laying about with the heavy steel rod. As other Blacks joined in the fray, the ship came to a halt as the party at the capstan was called into the fight.

  It was then that the ball from the gun ashore took one of the former captives right in the chest and nearly cut him in two. All but the most obstinate stopped their resistance. Those who did not were taken up and dropped overboard. Although they would probably not drown, they would soon be back in the hands of their former masters. As the ship, freed from a few hundred pounds of human weight began to free itself, some of those floundering in the water were seen to beckon the ship to come
back for them.

  No time for that now. All hands back on the capstan, the ship began to leave a slight wake as she slipped through the water. All went well until she came to a slight bend in the estuary, when she slid silently into the mud at the bottom. Boats with armed crewmen had to go back to retrieve their cable, which luckily had not been taken by the people on shore.

  More people were brought up on deck. Most of them were aware of what was happening and knew the approximate reason. Little resistance was made now as they heaved at the capstan. When it became obvious the ship was not going any farther, Phillips bade the water casks opened. Men on the capstan were told to rest, while others were put to work on the pumps. Soon, much of the water that was meant to sustain the crew and cargo across the middle passage was flowing out of the scuppers. After tons of the precious fluid had been pumped overboard, the men on the capstan were ordered back to work.

  At first, they strained to no avail. With sweat pouring from the straining bodies, the ship remained immobile. It moved not a fraction of an inch. Then, one of the quarterdeck guns fired at the little four pounder that was becoming such a nuisance. At its recoil, everyone felt the ship slip forward a bit. Probably not more than six inches, but at least they had made a tiny gain.

  Phillips ordered all four guns aft loaded with double charges. When ready, he had the men at the capstan take a good strain on the cable and ordered the guns to fire. This time, the ship lurched forward, travelling a good twenty feet before slowing to a halt.

  Mister Davis reset his head sails that had originally pulled them out into the harbor. This time, when the guns fired, the ship kept moving. She slowed as she came onto another shallow muddy spot, but those head sails pulled them through.

  Not wishing to stop to retrieve his cable, Phillips ordered it cut. The big frigate, now free of the land, continued out to sea.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  It took several weeks for the brig and her prize to make their way up the coast to Freetown. There had been continual problems with the former captives all the way back. With no one on board who could communicate with the Africans, there was constant tension. After so many had been freed of their restraints, there was no practical means to restrain them now.

  Many, having suffered hideous atrocities over a period of months, were deeply suspicious. With none of them speaking a language that was understood by the ship’s crew there was much misunderstanding.

  Eventually, many of the Africans decided they wished to land. With matters threatening to become ugly, Phillips decided he must allow the people to do as they wished. Fellowes privately counseled against this, advising that a powerful tribe held sway on this little section of the African continent. Fiercely independent, he was sure the locals would fall upon any small, unarmed group landing on their shores. Those that survived would find themselves back in a slave pen for sale to the next slaver that came along.

  Bowing to the inevitable, the captain ordered the boat launched. He intended to have its regular boat crew pull the impatient passengers ashore. Before they could load into the boat though, impatient Africans began dropping in. Apparently these were a people with little experience with boats, since the over-crowded launch was about ready to swamp. Panicked men began fighting each other, with several being thrown out of the boat.

  The flawed endeavor turned deadly when a huge shark slashed by and had the arm off one of the men floundering in the sea. Phillips, unable to communicate with the unreasoning crowd in the boat, ordered the cutter launched, its crew tasked to save as many people in the launch as possible. By the time this boat was in the water, more men had been thrown in the water, and another man killed by shark attack. The cutter’s cox’n got a line attached to the boat and pulled her over to Mastiff. Not wanting to become involved with the physical conflict still going on in the boat, the cox’n merely threw the line to a seaman on the ship’s deck and the launch went in tow behind the brig. The Africans in the boat soon found their best strategy was to remain still on their seats. After being towed for an hour, the boat’s seasick passengers readily accepted being hoisted up on deck by bosun’s chair.

  Phillips had rarely been as glad to enter port as he was this time. The colony authorities took the rescued slaves off his hands and he regained the people that had sailed the last prize to Freetown. Another ship was in port to begin its anti-slavery patrol and HMS Mastiff found herself ordered to escort the latest prize back home.

  This was welcome news to Mastiff’s captain. He was anxious to return to his estate and spend time with his new wife and family. There were reports to file and a complete evaluation made of the prize before she sailed.

  Almost immediately, a problem arose. The dockyard superintendent was a young Scot who took no nonsense from anyone. When Phillips returned to the dockyard early the next morning, he was expecting to learn when the frigate would be ready to sail. Instead, he was handed a message to visit the ship at the receiving quay.

  Mister Gregor met him there, a frown on his face. “Ah, Captain Phillips. I presume you are here to learn when you may collect your ship?”

  “That I am, Mister Gregor. My wife and children are waiting for me back home and I would like to sail as soon as possible.”

  “Well, Captain, we will do our best. In ten or twelve weeks, I think your ship will be ready to proceed. Perhaps another few weeks if unforeseen problems come to light.”

  Phillips was astonished. “Mister Gregor, I came here expecting to be told I could have her in a few days or a week.”

  “Captain, when was the last time you were aboard the prize?”

  Considering, Phillips recalled he had not been aboard since after the initial capture. The ship had been too foul for a man to bear for any length of time. He had put prize crews aboard on a rotating basis, each changing every two days, with an extra rum ration to make the duty more palatable.

  Gregor smiled when he saw his guest considering. “Why do we not go aboard the ship? We may get a better idea of her prospects for sailing.”

  As they neared the ship tied up at the quay, Phillips began to understand. He had experienced the stench of this vessel before but that was some time ago in the heat of battle. Here, moored in a safe location, the ship’s stink was overpowering.

  Gregor wondered, “Would you care to board her and inspect more closely, below decks, perhaps?”

  Declining, Phillips asked, “Just what are we to do with this frigate, Mister Gregor?”

  “It would be very difficult to find a crew to sail this ship, as she is, to Britain, even under the most severe compulsion. Even after reaching home, you may be assured the only buyers for the ship would be those intending to put her back into use as a slaver, again.”

  “Well, just what is it you suggest, Mister Gregor?”

  “Captain, I intend to tow her to a nearby tidal inlet. Every piece of gear that can be removed, will be. We will caulk her hull and decks tightly and close any openings. Then we will sink her at a location where her decks will be above water at low tide. At high tide, of course, she will be completely submerged. After about two months underwater, we will begin pumping her out. Hopefully, she will begin to float before the tide comes back in. Once we have her pumped out, we will leave her open to dry out. I expect the slave stink will be gone once we raise her.

  Phillips went back to Government House to give the governor the news. Governor MacCarthy was already familiar with the new plan and released Phillips from the duty of escorting the prize back home. Instead, he was free to sail as soon as HMS Mastiff was ready.

  The voyage back home was uneventful and ended in Portsmouth about the time of the prize’s expected raising from her watery berth. Mary was now living at the London town house with the children, waiting for his return. They had an ecstatic meeting, interrupted only when he had to make a visit to the Admiralty to advise them of his arrival. He spent a full day there explaining his activities on the Spanish expedition to various officials and giving them full deta
ils of the action with the Spanish frigate.

  He learned that frigate had survived and reached port, but never went to sea again. The damage to the ship was explained by the Spanish authorities to their own people as caused by a hurricane, but those authorities made it clear to their British counterparts they knew perfectly well what had happened and intended to do what they could to bring Captain Phillips and his officers to trial in a Spanish court.

  This news did not concern Phillips greatly. He had no immediate plans for visiting any Spanish lands for the near future.

  After he had satisfied his superiors with his reports and was expecting to return back to the house to spend the rest of the day with Mary, he received a summons from Lord Melville, himself. The First Sea Lord did not keep him waiting, but called him into his office at once. “Ah, Captain Phillips. Much has transpired since last we met. I thought it best if I myself discussed the implications with you rather than delegating the task to someone else.”

  Phillips thought to himself, “This is where he pulls out the knife!”

  “First of all, I am completely satisfied with your reports concerning Spanish America. It was a bad situation you were put into, and you did your duty. I must say, it was not anticipated the Spanish would bring your ship to action. You, of course, did the expected, prevailing over a more powerful ship with your little brig. The Foreign Office has sent a stiff note to the Spanish government protesting the unprovoked attack on your brig. I would hope that this sort of thing will not become prevalent.”

  “The Royal Navy finds itself in a dilemma. Spain has demanded your head for embarrassing them as you did. You did as you were expected and HM Government can find no fault in your actions. We have been warned by the Spanish Ambassador that you are expected to surrender yourself to his authority immediately upon your return to Britain.”

  “Of course, this will not happen. Normally, we would warn you of the inadvisability of, visiting any Spanish territories, and send you home.”