Where The Flag Floats

by Grant, D C

  “I hear we’re heading for the Manookoo Bar,” said Pat.

  “Manukau,” Fred corrected him. “And I hope the master is not intending to take us over it.”

  “Why? What do you know?”

  “I was quartermaster on the Harrier and I’ve taken her over the Manukau Bar. It’s a dirty piece of water. The bar is always shifting and we’ll need the latest charts.”

  “The Admiralty won’t give us old charts,” Pat said with confidence. “And there’s a signal station anyway.”

  “Yes, but it’s in a state of disrepair,” said Fred. “And last I heard, the signalman had left.”

  “You’re full of tales for someone who’s been on the run for almost a year.”

  “It doesn’t mean I don’t get to hear things,” Fred said.

  Pat took a pull on his pipe and then used the stem to point in my direction. “The boy’s here.”

  Fred nodded to the men and they sidled towards me. The other men averted their eyes and maybe their ears as well, for if they did not hear, then they could not be witness to whatever plan Fred was hatching. Fred, John and Pat all sat down on the deck around me as if they had come for a friendly chat.

  “We think you should have a chance at getting your watch back, but first let’s get one thing straight: if you get caught, you’ll deny we had anything to do with it. Agreed?”

  I stared into Fred’s eyes. He knew, as I did, if I was caught in another attempt, my punishment could be worse than before and yet I did not hesitate.

  “Yes, agreed,” I said.

  “Good. Now, can you pick a lock?”

  “If I have a picklock.”

  Fred put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a picklock. “One of the boys had this and we confiscated it. Put it away quick before anyone sees it.”

  I pushed it into my trouser pocket.

  “Tomorrow we should see the coast and more than likely try for the Manukau Bar. All the officers will be on the bridge, including the commodore, and his eyes will be on the water, not on the ship. While we keep the sentry busy, you can pick the lock on his door, get into his cabin and get the watch back.”

  “How will …” I started to ask.

  “Sssh. The less you know, the less you’ll be able to reveal. Just be aware that when I tell you, you must get below and start for the commodore’s cabin. Leave the rest to us.”

  “Won’t you get in trouble?” It concerned me that Fred and his friends were endangering themselves – for me.

  “Only if I get caught,” Fred said with a chuckle. “And besides, they can only hang me once, you know.”

  The men around me did not smile at this and neither did I. The ship’s bell rang out to indicate that the next watch was about to start and the men drifted away to their posts. As the first watch settled into their duties, I stood up and walked towards the middle of the ship, so distracted by what the men had said that I almost walked into Lieutenant Amphlett who put a heavy hand on my shoulder.

  “I saw you talking with the men,” he said. “Is that man Butler inciting the men to mutiny?”

  I had to think quickly. “No, sir, they’re just concerned for my welfare after my punishment.”

  “A punishment well deserved. I hope you’ve learnt your lesson.”

  If only he knew what we were planning. “Yes, sir, of course, sir.”

  “Then on your way,” he said, and he stalked off.

  I gave a sigh of relief and went down below.

  7 February 1863

  8am

  “Land ho!” The cry carried through the ship. I wanted to go on deck but there were dishes to clean, pots to scour and water to be boiled. I had to stay in the galley until all my chores had been completed, but I could not help but feel a small knot of excitement in my stomach. I checked for the hundredth time that the picklock was still in my pocket.

  As soon as I could, I slipped away so that I could see this new land for myself, but I was to be disappointed. I could see nothing but ocean when I reached the deck – not even when I climbed on top of one of the guns and held onto the shrouds.

  “You’ll not see land from there,” John said as he jogged past me and onto the shrouds, hanging on the outside of the ship for a moment before beginning to climb. “You’ll only see it from up here.”

  “I’m not going up there,” I said, tightening my grip on the shrouds as the ship swung off course.

  “Scaredy cat,” John called as he continued to the apex of the shrouds and then, alarmingly, he scrambled upside down along the underside of the top before reaching the edge and hauling himself on to the wooden platform. I had to tilt my head back to watch him; the top seemed so far away.

  “Are you going up?” Fred asked me as he hopped onto the gunwale beside me.

  “You won’t catch me up there,” I said.

  “Always the landlubber, ey?”

  “Maybe,” I said, looking up at the sails.

  The truth was, I was beginning to enjoy being at sea. In spite of the hard work and the rough justice, it was the first time I had been out of Sydney, and the first time I’d not had to fight or steal for every scrap of food, or shelter. Maybe I should become a seaman. I looked over at the wheel. I wanted to be the man at the wheel, or the man behind the wheel: the quartermaster. Or even, I thought as my eyes focused on the officer on the bridge, a lieutenant …

  I shook my head. It was just a dream.

  10am

  The men were to be given their dinner early, I found out when I returned to the galley, as all hands were required on deck in preparation for the crossing of the bar. It confirmed what Fred had told me – that most of the officers would be on the deck or on the bridge.

  The steam pressure to the engines had been increased and the engines thundered below the decks which vibrated beneath me as I stood at the stove, sweating. The hatch above my head was open but the breeze was not enough to cool me. As soon as dinner was done and cleared away, all the hatches would be closed and that would make the galley stifling. I hoped to be out and on the deck when that happened.

  But first the midday meal had to be served half an hour early. I worked quickly, the cook’s hand never far from my ear as I dropped utensils and almost burnt the meat. In the end he sent me out with the pig’s swill. It was probably that or cut my throat, judging from the expression on his face.

  I was glad to be on the deck where the breeze cooled my skin. I glanced over to the east and could see the land ahead. There was no gentle beach sloping to a calm sea, but what looked like a solid line of cliffs at which the waves beat, sending up sprays of seawater that misted the air around the land. How could we pass through that? It looked like there was no way across.

  The commodore was already on the bridge, together with the commander and the master. Lieutenant Amphlett stood there too, and he turned and looked at me as though he felt my eyes on him. I lowered my eyes and carried on to the throw the pigs their slops.

  Fred caught me on the way back.

  “You ready, Sam?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. The knot in my stomach tightened as I thought of what I was going to do. I could not contemplate what would happen if I was caught. “Won’t he notice the watch is gone?”

  “Maybe, but perhaps after we have entered the harbour and reached the Onehunga Wharf. You must make sure you get away as quick as you can before he has a chance to think about it. This may be the only chance we have to get you into the cabin.”

  “Can you keep the sentry away for long enough?”

  “We’ll do what we can, Sam, I promise you.”

  He turned to go.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked him.

  “I got you into this, Sam. I should’ve believed you from the beginning, given you the watch back and sent you on your way. Then neither you nor I would be here. I suppose this is my way of trying to make amends.”

  I couldn’t say anything to this so I just nodded, grateful that finally I had a friend amongst t
he crew.

  As I made my way back to the galley I lifted my eyes to the bridge and saw Lieutenant Amphlett watching me still.

  12pm

  ”So what did the signal say, Bill?” asked one of the men, as the signalman returned to the table where I was handing out the freshly baked bread.

  “Take the bar,” the man replied as he took the bread and wiped his bowl with it. “But it’s going to be tricky, I can tell. The signal is hard to see and there’s no pilot to guide us in.”

  “Aye, it’s tricky all right,” said Fred from the next table. “We’d be better waiting for Mr Wing to come out in the pilot boat and take us in.”

  As I stood alongside Fred at the next table, he whispered so only I could hear. “We’re all set, Sam, are you ready?” I nodded. “Then I’ll give you the signal once we’re on deck.”

  I strove to finish my tasks quickly; it helped that the cook was in a hurry too, as we had to square away all the pots and utensils as well as dampen down the fire in preparation for the crossing.

  One bell marked the first half hour of the afternoon watch. I made my way up the ladder to the deck to find most of the men assembled there, the officers lined up either on the bridge or on the quarterdeck with the marines in a row just under the bridge, and men in the shrouds or in the tops ready to shorten sail if necessary. I steadied myself as a rough wind squall hit the ship and she shuddered. The wind was coming from over my left shoulder as I faced forward and she was leaning over to her starboard.

  Ahead I could see the headland through which we had to enter. The hills rose up from the sea in a broad expanse of green in which I could see no break, and I doubted that an entrance could be found in what looked like an impregnable fortress. Yet there had to be – Fred had come through it before, and the officers on the ship would sure have maps that would show them where to go.

  Another bump as the wind gusted through, ruffling the sea ahead of us. It was rougher up ahead, the sea boiling as though a huge hand stirred it. I could not see the banks that Fred talked about, but I knew that they were there, as did everyone else.

  Up in the bow there was a leadsman in either side, in the chains with the leadlines, ready to call out the depth when ordered. Back at the stern of the ship, the spare tiller had been shipped with block and tackle and six men were ready to jump into action if the main gear gave way while we made the crossing. Three helmsmen were stationed around the wheel itself with the quartermasters all behind them, waiting to give orders.

  There was an air of tension and anticipation on the deck. The men were mostly quiet as if in awe of this stretch of water, a stretch that most of them had not seen before. It certainly looked menacing, with the sea dark before us, the lumpy waves throwing the ship around, the full set of sails above us casting shadows on the deck and the ship surging as the swell rolled beneath her. The wood beneath my bare feet juddered as the steam engines pulsed in the hold, driving the ship forward together with the force of the wind in the sails.

  The crossing would be over quickly, I thought, and I did not have much time. I glanced up at the bridge again and saw that Lieutenant Amphlett, like all the other officers, was staring at the way ahead. None of them had eyes for the deck. Fred had been right: this was the time to retrieve my watch. I patted the picklock in my pocket and looked around for Fred.

  “There’s the signal station there,” Fred said as I approached him. “Can you see it?” I shaded my eyes and peered ahead, but all I could see was what looked like a bare tree on top of a promontory. “You should be able to see the signals – look, two squares. That means take the bar.”

  I could not see that and anyway, I was anxious to get our plan underway. My stomach was tight and the scabs on my back tightened as if to warn me that they would be reopened by another flogging if I got caught again. I wriggled a little to ease the tingle running down my back. This was no time to be faint of heart.

  Fred nodded towards the stern of the ship.

  “They’re all on the bridge, so this is your chance. You go down the companionway nearest the galley; we’ll go down this one. When you hear us, make for the commodore’s cabin.”

  I didn’t have time to ask what it was I had to listen out for as John and Pat quickly followed Fred towards the forward hatch. I made my way aft, glancing up at the bridge as I neared the companionway and assuring myself that all the officers had their eyes on the water. They took no notice of me. I scampered down the ladder to the deck below and made my way towards the gunroom where the midshipmen had their mess, but the large cabin was empty as was the rest of the passageway. I hid around the corner, out of sight of the marine sentry as I waited for the signal or some sort of sound that would indicate that Fred and the others had enacted their plan. The ship creaked as she always did when she moved on the water but the sound had a tone of anticipation in it, as if she knew she would soon be in the harbour and at anchor. I heard the sentry cough, but, apart from the creaks and groans of the ship, that was all. How long would it be before I could make my move? I sensed that we were closing in on the bar now and would soon be over it, and then it would be too late.

  I heard shouts forward and I tensed as the yells grew louder. I recognised Fred’s voice.

  “I’ll teach you …” he roared. There was a loud thump and a man cried out. I heard the sentry shuffle forward and I threw myself against the side of the cabin, trying to make myself as small as possible. The smacks of the fight became louder as the men threw punches and swore; I could hear the sentry draw level with me in an effort to see the men. If he glanced to the right, he would spot me instantly ...

  “Hey, you there!” he shouted as he went past me, his rifle in his hands, making off down the length of the gangway to where Fred and the others must be staging their fight.

  I slipped out from alongside the gunroom, headed towards the commodore’s cabin and tried the door, expecting it to be locked. It was not – my luck was in. I hesitated as I pushed it open, listening to the sounds of the men fighting and the sentry screaming for order above the noise.

  The table was covered with maps and books, one of which stood open with a page half-filled, but I only glanced at them. I went straight to the locker in which my watch had been deposited and took the picklock out of my pocket. Hands trembling, I put it in the lock and felt for the tumblers. A noise nearby startled me and I dropped the picklock in fright. Then I stood still for eons, expecting someone to burst into the cabin, but again my luck held and the door remained closed. Taking a deep breath, I lifted the picklock from the deck and re-inserted it into the lock, setting to work on the tumblers. The mechanism was simple and within seconds, the locker opened.

  My watch lay beside a wooden box on top of more papers, and I reached in gingerly and drew it out. I let it hang from my fingers, and it swung with the momentum of the ship with the light coming through the stern windows reflected upon it, flashing into my eyes. The words on the back taunted me with knowledge I did not possess, and could not have unless someone read them to me.

  Suddenly there was a heavy footfall outside the cabin and I started out of my reverie, hastily shoving the watch into my pocket while I sought a place to hide within the cabin. There was a door to the right of the one through which I had entered and I had just begun to make my way towards it when the door swung open and Lieutenant Amphlett strode in.

  “What? Why, you little thief!” he roared as he came towards me. I skittered to the other side, evading him, but he quickly made his way towards me. “The commodore will hang you for this!”

  I bolted towards the open door just as the sentry appeared, his hand out to catch me, but I slipped away and made for the gangway beyond. With the two men close behind, I clambered up the companionway, reaching up to pull myself through the hatch, but one of the men grabbed my foot as I reached the top. I kicked out and my foot connected; I heard a yell and a thump as the man fell back. I did not wait to see who it was but clambered out of the hatch and onto the deck, blinking i
n the sudden bright light. A few men turned round to look at me and a marine stepped towards me, but I veered around him.

  “Stop him!” Lieutenant Amphlett shouted from below. “He’s been in the commodore’s cabin.”

  I evaded the next marine but one behind him grabbed the collar of my shirt. I pulled away, leaving the torn collar in his hand. Ducking away from another out-stretched hand, I climbed on top of a gun where it was difficult for the men to reach me. I could hear shouts and the ominous click of a firearm being loaded and cocked, but I jumped onto a pile of stores nestled between the guns, and then onto the next, jumping from gun to gun and scrambling over the piles of munitions and stores where I could not be reached by the marines.

  Breathless, I reached the forecastle where most of the seamen had gathered. I thought it would be safe but they too tried to grab me. For a moment I considered heading out on to the bowsprit, but I knew that was a dead end so I doubled back … but did not get much further.

  My way was blocked.

  The marines had spread out along the width of the deck and most of them had their rifles raised and aimed at me. There was nowhere for me to go. I searched for a friendly face amongst the seamen but they had moved away, as if I were a leper. Even John avoided my gaze as I tried to catch his eye. Beyond the line of marines, I saw Fred, with a bloodied nose, sidling into place alongside some of the seamen.

  “Come here, lad,” Lieutenant Amphlett said as he stepped forward.

  I took one more look at the sea just behind me and at the muzzles of the rifle, and then walked forward with my head down. Again I had been caught, and my punishment this time would be worse than my first – possibly even fatal.

  Lieutenant Amphlett grabbed me by the ear as I came close and twisted it so hard that I yelped. “What were you doing in the commodore’s cabin?”