by Michael Aye
“He went topside to have a stretch. He spent the night in yonder chair.”
“He stayed here all night long?”
“Aye, cap’n.”
“There was no need of that. He should have rested in his own hammock.”
“Begging the Cap’n’s pardon, but who was gonna tell him to leave. Not me or anyone else what’s got a brain.”
A knock at the door and the sentry announced, “Mr. Davy, sir.”
“Come in, Mr. Davy. How are we this fine Navy day?”
“I’m well, cap’n. How are you this morning? You put a scare in us last evening.”
‘I’m fine, sir, but is that why you’re here, to inquire as to my health?” Gabe asked.
“Oh no, sir, the first lieutenant’s respects, sir, but are you coming on deck or should he present himself to your cabin, sir.”
This caused Gabe to stop. “Is there an emergency, Mr. Davy?”
“Nay sir, but I believe they’ve sighted land and several sails. Dagan has gone aloft.”
“Very well, Mr. Davy. Tell the first lieutenant I’ll be topside directly.”
“Aye, sir.”
Once on deck, Gabe found both Lieutenant Hazard, Lieutenant Lavery and the master amidships. Mr. Hazard held a glass to his eye. The master was first to spot him.
“Morning, cap’n.”
“Mr. Blake, Mr. Hazard, Mr. Lavery,” Gabe addressed each, as was his morning ritual.
“The look-out has spotted land, sir. It appears we’re a little off course,” Hazard reported.
Hearing this Gabe turned to the master. “Mr. Blake, what’s your calculations?”
“We’ve been pushed south by the gale, sir. I believe we are just off the coast of South Carolina but instead of Charlestown sir, I think we are about sixty miles south, possibly Port Royal or one of the barrier islands. There are several of them.”
Dagan had made his way down from the masthead. “There are three strange sails, two appear to be schooners and the other larger. About the size of a brig. Turtle’s still about ten miles ahead and from the looks of things I’d say they’ve spotted her.”
“Privateers you think?” Hazard asked.
“That’d be my guess,” Gabe answered.
“But I thought they’d be bottled up by our blockade and lazing by the fire,” Lavery commented.
“I’m sure they used the gale as a means of running the blockade,” Gabe answered. “I’m not sure I’d risk broaching my ship in such a gale just to run down a bunch of privateers I probably couldn’t catch and that’d likely end up on a lee shore anyway.”
Then Gabe asked, “What about the rest of the convoy?”
“They’re on station sir, including Wild Goose and Lancaster. I fired the flares as you ordered before you took ill,” Hazard continued, “but Turtle never responded.”
“I didn’t expect her captain would,” Gabe answered. “The arrogant son of a bitch is probably going to cost us a lot before this day’s over, gentlemen, especially with those privateers lurking. Did you log his failure to respond, Mr. Hazard?”
“Aye, cap’n, last night and this morning.”
“Very well, the wind is almost directly astern so have Mr. Druett fire one of the forward guns. He’s bound to hear it. I know he’s not deaf.”
“Think we should signal for him to take up station, sir?”
“It wouldn’t hurt; however, he didn’t answer the flares so I doubt he’ll answer the signal.”
Feeling his stomach growl, Gabe realized he hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. “Dagan, let’s go below. Mr. Hazard let me know if there’s any change.”
Once below, Dagan spoke, “You think he’s ignoring the signals on purpose, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Gabe answered, “I think he’s got a rendezvous set up with the privateers. Why else would a man be in such a hurry to risk himself and a load of gunpowder.”
***
After a fitting breakfast and two cups of coffee Gabe returned back on deck. Lieutenant Hazard reported, “I was just about to send for you, sir. The Turtle has taken a more southerly course and the privateers seem to be ignoring her and headed toward us.”
Gabe pounded the bulwark with his fist, ‘I knew it.” Then he explained his theory to his first lieutenant. “Signal Lancaster to come abeam on the weather side. Then have Estes to position Wild Goose behind Lancaster about midway through the convoy. If one of the privateers get through it’s up to him to protect the convoy.”
“Deck there,” the lookout called down, “The ships be ‘seprating, sir. Ones ship rigged sir, she be about eight miles off the starboard bow. The schooners, sir, one going to windward and ‘tother to leeward.”
“Separating to get amongst the convoy,” the master said while holding a ship’s glass to his eye. “I can see the t’gallants of one.”
“Signal Wild Goose to be ready, Mr. Hazard, but tell him to stay on station for now. Let’s see what their next move is.”
“Aye, cap’n.”
“Damn, sir,” the master called, “That ‘un looks like she might be a French corvette.”
“I’ll go aloft,” Dagan volunteered.
“Beat to quarters, Mr. Hazard.”
“Aye, cap’n.”
Dagan was down on the deck before Gabe realized it. “She’s a corvette right enough and appears to be a twenty-four.”
“ Damme,” Gabe exclaimed. “I bet she’s got a crew of a hundred and fifty or more.” Sensing there was more, Gabe stopped talking and looked at Dagan. “What else?”
“She’s flying the same company flag as that prize we took on the way to Barbados.”
“So they’re after blood as well as the convoy,” Gabe muttered to himself.
“The wolves will be in firing distance in ten minutes or so, cap’n,” Mr. Hazard said, “She’s under full sail.”
“In a hurry that one, ‘ain’t she,” the master said.
“Deck there…The schooner to leeward has dropped back and appears to be taking the weather gage.”
“I didn’t think she’d keep her previous station,” Gabe stated, “That was just a ploy to see how we responded.”
“Deck there,” the lookout howled down, “She’s run out her larboard guns!”
“Deck there,” the lookout called again, “The furthest schooner, she be sailing wide and putting on more sail.”
“A wolf trying to get among the cows.”
“Sheep, Mr. Lavery, ‘a wolf among the sheep,” Gabe replied archly.
Lavery was intent on calling the convoy a herd of cows. Several anxious minutes passed then, “She’s firing, sir,” the lookout bellowed down, “She’s firing.”
Gabe winced as balls moaned through the air.
“He fired too high,” Dagan commented, used to taking prizes not fighting ship to ship.
“Well, his next one won’t be too high, I bet,” Gabe replied. “Mr. Hazard, prepare to fire, sir.” Gabe stood up on the small poop deck. The corvette was now not two hundred yards away. “Fire! Give him what for lads, fire.”
SeaWolf’s six-pounders spoke as one. Hours of gun drill had paid off.
“She’s hit,” Dagan replied.
“Down, down everyone,” Hazard called and as he did the corvette fired again. Raising himself from the deck, Gabe was stupefied. Twelve guns had fired from the corvette, an entire broadside but with little damage.
“Grape,” the master replied, “She’s fired with grape.”
BOOM! …
SeaWolf gave a shudder; Druett had her guns in action again.
“We’re hitting her, cap’n,” Hazard was saying, “She got gaps in her bulwark, spars and rigging are dangling from aloft and at least two guns are out of order.”
Before Hazard had finished his comments the corvette fired again. This time the blast was thunderous. Some of the balls hit the sea and caused fountains of water to gush up on SeaWolf’s deck. However, some were more effective. Pieces of bulwark were gone, the corner
of the small poop deck over Gabe’s cabin was blasted away and the gaff boom was shot into. Surveying the damage, Gabe saw Hazard trying to raise humself. Several large splinters had penetrated his coat and were sticking out of his arm. His blue coat turning dark, then red from the shoulder down his sleeve.
BOOM! …
Druett’s gunners were still at work. “We’ve opened up her gallery, sir.”
“Dagan, see to Everette. Mr. Lavery, take over for the first lieutenant and prepare to come about.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Mr. Graf, how are things going with the Lancaster and Wild Goose?”
“Lancaster’s holding her own, sir, but the corvette seems to be on a course to give Wild Goose what for. They beat off the other schooner.”
“Well, we’ll be there to help directly. Signal the Lancaster to maintain her station.”
“Mr. Dover!”
“Here, cap’n.”
“What’s the damage?
“Nothing below decks, sir, me mates double checking. Most appears to be about the poop and gaff and that don’t hinder our sailing. A few shot holes in the sails.”
“Deck there, Wild Goose just took a broadside from the corvette but then cut across her stern and give her a load up the arse.”
“Hell’s fire, damned if Estes don’t know his business. How are we, Mr. Blake?”
“We’re over-hauling fast, cap’n.”
“Mr. Druett, soon as you think reasonable see if you can get one of the forward guns in action.”
“Aye, sir.”
“How’s the Lancaster?”
“She don’t look as bad as the schooner, sir. She looks like she’s lost her bowspirit and foretopsail.
BOOM! …
“Druett’s got a gun in action, sir.”
“Deck there, the corvette’s hauling her wind, sir. So has the schooner.”
“Wear ship, Mr. Lavery, let’s see about that other schooner.”
“Aye, sir, bosun hands to braces.”
“Dagan, how is Mr. Hazard?”
“Caleb’s taking care of him. Mr. Davy helped me get him below deck and he said to the first lieutenant, “don’t worry, Mr. Hazard, the surgeons got plenty of experience with splinters, see here”, then the bugger pulled up his shirt and showed Lieutenant Hazard his scar. When he did, Mr. Hazard fainted. I wondered if it was from his wound or the scare Davy gave him.”
“Cap’n,” Lavery was calling, “We’re almost on the schooner. She’s trying to change tack, but her rigging is in disarray and she’s having a hard time of it.”
“Where’s Lancaster?”
“She’s on station with the convoy but has requested to give chase.”
“Signal stay on station, then signal convoy to heave to. Signal Wild Goose to take station to leeward.”
“Aye, cap’n.”
“Mr. Lavery, put up a flag of truce but have the larboard guns manned and ready. Dagan get my gig ready. Mr. Graf, prepare a boarding party, please.”
“Aye, cap’n.”
“Mr. Lavery, I intend to board the schooner alone under a flag of truce but if you smell a rat, let loose with a broadside. I’ll not endanger any more of our people.”
***
The schooner struck her colors without another shot being fired which was the sensible thing to do. After a thorough search of the prize, Graf said, "Cap'n, she 'ain't got enough powder to blow fleas ‘offen a cat’s arse and very few balls left."
"That's the answer," Gabe replied. "That's why we didn't take much of a beating from the corvette. She didn't have enough powder and ball to take the convoy."
"Then why attack it," Lavery asked.
"A ruse, sir, something to keep us occupied while that damn Patrick got away with the thing they needed most, powder and shot. I'm sure it was only by accident the schooner was disabled. However, she's a small price to pay if we don't get the Turtle back with all she carries."
Gabe then called Captain Bruce and being prudent, had the master come along as well as Estes and his first lieutenant for a conference on board SeaWolf. He had set Dover to work repairing the schooner.
"We'll divide the prisoners up between our three ships," Gabe told his audience. "Captain Estes, since your lieutenant is the most experienced we'll put him in temporary command of the Swan, as nice a prize as we could hope for. He should make do with thirty men and we'll divide those from among each of us. Once the Swan is ready to sail I want you, Captain Estes, to take the convoy into Charlestown and unless otherwise ordered wait on me then we'll proceed on as ordered."
"Oh…ah…Captain Estes, unless it's put directly to you, say as little as possible about the Swan. Have her anchor as close to seaward as possible. Use her boats to unload prisoners if need be."
"Is there a reason for this?" Estes asked.
"Yes, to be quite frank with you. We need her and I'd rather Lord Anthony have first dibs on her before some other admiral snares her."
"I see," Estes said, "But where are you heading that makes it necessary for me to go on with the convoy?"
"I'm going after the Turtle, sir. We need that gunpowder and I aim to see we get it back or destroy it and if possible make her captain pay for his treachery."
After Gabe bid his fellow captains farewell, Dagan asked, "Is the schooner, Swan, for his lordship or Markham?"
"Are they not one and the same," Gabe replied raising his eyebrows and giving a hint of a smile.
"Mr. Blake, Mr. Lavery."
"Aye, cap'n."
"Attend me in my cabin if you will."
"Aye, sir."
As they entered the cabin, Dawkins asked, "A glass of wine, sir?"
"Yes, Dawkins, I believe we owe ourselves a bit of refreshment."
"Would you like the wine before or after you tea, sir?"
"Damn you, Dawkins, don't you forget anything? I should have left you ashore. Why don't you take that damnable stuff?"
"Cause, sir, the doctor said it was for you and who am I, poor sailor that I be, to argue with the good doctor?"
"You're a damned old rich skin flint, that's what you are. You got more prize money than you know what to do with. Poor - huh."
"Before or after, sir?"
"After, after, damn your eyes, after. Maybe the wine will help wash away the bitterness."
"That's possible, sir, aye, that's possible."
After Gabe took his tea and chased it with half a glass of wine he said, "Not a word from either of you or you'll have it daily instead of your rum ration, now let's get to business. I want to catch the Turtle and she's already got a good hour on us. Now, we last saw her heading in a southerly direction. What are your recommendations, Mr. Blake?"
Chapter Seven
By two bells in the first dog watch repairs had been made to the prize, and the convoy was away on a northerly heading for Charlestown. SeaWolf had sailed west-sou-west. The light was going fast and visibility was low when Dagan came down from the masthead lookout. He'd been perched there for an hour now scanning the horizon, occasionally putting the glass to his eye for a clearer picture. The regular lookout had tried to engage Dagan in conversation for the first several minutes they shared the platform. These attempts stopped suddenly when Dagan gave the man a stern look and said, "I'm looking for a ship, not conversation, now put your glass to work."
Gabe had just about given up on sighting his quarry when Dagan approached him. "I found her." Gabe had the master, Blake, and Lieutenant Hazard meet with him in his cabin to go over Dagan's finding on the chart.
"There're some small islands here with a small inlet between them. The Turtle is about here."
"That's Hunting Islands," the master offered. "There're about five little islands that make up the Huntings. The Turtle, if it's between this northern most small island and larger one, the main Hunting Island, then she's in the Warsaw Sound."
"The Hunting Islands down to Jenkins Island," Blake pointed to a small island just off the entrance to Port Royal Harbour
, "along with the sound are greatly affected by the tide. When the tide is out there's mud flats and saw grass all the way to Port Royal. There're a few channels that can be made with a shallow draft barge or ship's boat and I expect that's how they unload such vessels."
"Just how far could a body make it overland?" Hazard asked the master as he peered at the charts.
"At low tide?"
"Aye," Hazard replied, "At low tide."
"If you didn't stick up to arse-hole and elbows in the mud you could walk from the beach at Hunting all the way to Port Royal. Course there are gators and moccasins and varmints that if they don't eat ya or 'pison ya they'll sting you to death. No, don't be thinking of no land action. It's a boat action or naught," the master stated definitely.
""What do we know about location and depths of the channels?" Gabe asked the master.
"Next to nothing, sir. I know they exist and that's about it."
"Well," Gabe responded, "We don't want to go to Port Royal, just to the inlet here."
"My recommendation," Blake said, "is to wait till it's dark and send a couple boats and cut her out if need be but I'd rather just go within cannon ball range and blast her."
"The master’s got a point," Dagan volunteered.
"But we need that powder, don't we, sir," Hazard interjected.
This brought looks from both Dagan and the master. Seeing the looks, Gabe came to the young lieutenant's aid, "We do need the powder so here's what we'll do."
***
The boats were put over the side. Mr. Davy with the marine sergeant and a squad of his marines, Lieutenant Lavery with his party; then Gabe and Dagan with a group in his gig. Before leaving, Gabe talked with his first lieutenant.
“I know you feel it’s your place to go, Everette, but with your arm the way it is that’s an impossibility. Besides I need someone here who can handle SeaWolf if something goes amiss. I’m not going to sacrifice all those men for one renegade. If I can cut Turtle out , I will. If not I’ll make an attempt to blow her up. If that’s not feasible, I’ll send up a flare. That’s your cue to come in and pick us up. Then we’ll let Mr. Druett and his bunch have some target practice.”