“A mate in charge of a cutter, therefore an officer, not a good enough reason.”
The man held out a sheet of paper.
“Who sent this to Fabron?”
He looked at it. It was the letter Fabron showed him when he was asked to go along on this trip.
“It came from an Englishman who he bought information from.”
“What was his name, this Englishman?”
“I don’t know,”
The man looked angry at that and moved forward as if he would strike him.
“I don’t know his name but Fabron told me he was highly placed at English Harbour.”
‘Got him!’ thought Marty jubilantly, but kept a straight face and continued to ask questions about where they had come from and where would they dispose of the prizes. He finally asked him whether he knew the American, de Faux. Travers almost spat on the deck.
“That pig! He is no more an American than I am. He tries to talk like he comes from New Orleans, but he says some words like he comes from Nantes. He is as fake as his name”
That’s what I heard” Marty exalted silently.
“Is he still crippled?”
“He was walking with sticks the last time I saw him.”
“And his ship?”
“The one he commandeered? Looked like it had gone to war with a first rate, it will take months to repair.”
“My friend you just made me happy,” Marty smiled at him.
Chapter 16: Full Circle
They sailed West towards Aruba, Marty and James were invited to dine with the merchant captains the next evening when they shortened sail for the night and were well fed and more than a little drunk by the time they got back to their respective ships.
The convoy got underway in the morning without the direct intervention of either of them as they both slept late and woke with hangovers. The day passed without incident, but the next was spent in watchful anticipation as they were passing first Bonaire and then Curaçao.
They were, however, left alone and they made port in Aruba without further drama. They sold the two prizes to the agent there and offered the crews the same deal they had those of the Falcon. A dozen joined them, and the rest were put on a boat to Venezuela.
The trip west was relatively easy as the prevailing current ran from Bonaire to Aruba and was quite strong. The trip back would be a different matter. Neither the wind nor the current would help them, and one man told Marty that you could tack all day and make just two miles of seaway on a bad day.
He decided that they would take the long way around following the current up to Jamaica then loop around and patrol the northern Caribbean looking for prizes.
By the time they had re-provisioned it was the third week in March and the weather was fair. But it didn’t last, they got hit by a storm and blown West almost to the coast of Nicaragua. They got split up too and Marty thought that it would be the last they saw of the Falcon.
Once the storm had died down The Tempest turned her bow to the North and headed for Jamaica. If James and the Eagle had survived, he expected to rendezvous with him there.
They sailed into Port Royal to find not only the Eagle but also the Falcon moored up waiting for them. As soon as they anchored a boat left the Eagle and headed over to them. Blaez was at the side with his forelegs on the rail, tail wagging furiously and gently whining in anticipation. Marty stood beside him and immediately picked out the shine of her Auburn hair.
The crews were tired after fighting the storm, so Marty decided to give them some shore leave and have the Eagle’s bottom cleaned as the careenage was empty. At least that is what he told himself, but the chance to spend some time with Caroline was the real one. It was the end of March and the island was beautiful that time of year and not too hot. He told her about the Spanish treasure shipment and she in turn told him about her idea for a private security force. To her surprise he agreed and said that he would leave the Eagle there when they returned to England.
They enjoyed several pleasant days until Marty got a message telling him the careening yard had done their work and their cannon and stores were being reloaded. He returned to the Tempest and called James and Pieter to a conference.
“My thought is to run down past Cuba and Puerto Rico and pick up any Spanish ships we come across. We can cover a lot of sea between the three of us and we should be able to find a prize of two.”
“Sell them at St John’s like before and then drift by Guadeloupe and Martinique?” James asked.
“That was my thought. What do you think of that Pieter?” Marty asked his new ally.
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” he stated, “we may get picked on by a couple of American privateers if we swing in close to Puerto Rico. They think of that as their territory and try and chase off anybody who trespasses,” he added.
“Agreed then. Make sure as soon as we are out of Jamaica you have good men in the tops and change them regularly. James take the middle; I will be in the North and Pieter you take the South. Keep the next ship in line hull up on your horizon and if you spot anything fire a cannon and fly the ‘enemy in sight’ signal below the number of ships. Unless you are absolutely certain you can take the prize on your own wait for one or all of us to join you before starting the chase.”
The briefing completed they had dinner, a work of art provided by Rolland who had made significant improvements to the galley. It still burned wood, but he had persuaded Marty to get a new oven fitted while they were in port and everyone agreed from the ship’s boys to the captain that it was money well spent.
A day out at sea and Fletcher sat with Marty and Wolverton going over the purchases that they had made in Kingstown.
“Three crates of grenades, two dozen grenades to a crate. A barrel of balls for the Nock guns. A ton of powder for the cannon, best Royal Navy issue thanks to Caroline’s hold over the port ordinance officer, four casks of musket powder, two cases of quills, and two of flints.” Fletcher reported.
“Don’t forget the shot. Round and chain to replace what we used,” Wolverton added.
“Yes, and that’s just for this ship, James and Pieter also restocked.” He passed a paper to Marty who scanned it before passing it back.
“We are all set then,” Marty concluded as there was a knock on the door and Shelby entered.
“The casualty list for our visit to Jamaica,” he grinned.
The three looked at him quizzically.
Shelby pulled up a chair and held the paper so he could read it.
“Six cases of pox, a broken hand and nose (same man), two cases of poisoning from drinking bad alcohol and-” he paused dramatically, “a serious wound to the groin area”
Marty choked on the coffee that he was just sipping.
“A what?”
“A lacerated member,” Shelby repeated.
“Who and how the hell did that happen?” Marty gasped not sure whether to laugh or wince.
“The how first,” Shelby grinned at the expressions of discomfort on their faces, “it would appear that our victim was getting oral satisfaction from a lady of the night when he suggested to her that as they weren’t actually coupling, she should only charge him half. He maintains that was a joke, but the dear lady took it seriously it seems and responded rather abruptly.” He paused again as the three groaned in unison at the thought. “That wouldn’t have been too bad, but she was, however, a former slave who came from a tribe in Africa that habitually file their teeth to sharp points. It took some of my finest stich work to repair the damage.”
“And who was this unfortunate victim.” Marty asked with a snigger now he had gotten over the horror.
“Your quartermaster.”
“John?”
“The very same.”
All three men collapsed in helpless laughter and a voice drifted down from the open skylight.
“Yea, bloody funny, not my fault she couldn’t take a joke.”
Which set them off again.
&nbs
p; They took two prizes as they passed Santa Dominica and another just off Puerto Rico. Marty made sure they made a lot of noise when they took that one, he was trying to get a reaction from the port. When nothing happened, he had the Falcon sail in with their colours flying towards Guanica until they were just in range of the guns from Fort Capron and fire a single cannon in challenge. The only response they got was a salvo of shots from the fort that fell short.
They tried again at Ponce and again got no reaction at all. Marty shrugged and headed East towards the Virgin Islands and Antigua.
Just past the Virgin Islands the lookout reported that the Eagle was signalling, ‘Enemy in site, repeated,’ which meant that the Falcon on the end of the line had spotted something. He signalled the prizes to continue to St John’s then increased sail and turned south to join the other two ships, making around eleven knots he would be with the Falcon in less than two hours.
The Eagle was maintaining the distance between them when suddenly the lookout reported that she had changed direction towards the East. Marty was surprised and grabbed a glass to go up and see for himself what was going on. He was about halfway up when the lookout called down to him.
“I can see the Falcon skipper. She be running with all sail set towards the Southeast and there be a bloody Frigate chasing her.”
Marty reached the crosstrees and settled himself. He was pleased that he wasn’t even particularly breathing heavily after the climb. He located the Falcon and followed her course back to a Frigate that was about a mile behind her. He could see a French flag streaming out behind.
“Fire a gun!” He shouted down.
The forward gun on the larboard side roared.
Marty watched the Falcon and saw the shape of her sails change. She was easing around to a more Easterly course.
‘Well done Pieter!’ he thought. The slight change in direction enabled the Eagle to cut the corner and intercept the Frigate a little quicker. It also brought both the Falcon and the French Frigate closer to the wind.
The Tempest had on every stich of sail she could carry, and the next call of the log had them at thirteen knots and a fathom. With her clean bottom she was flying.
The Frigate was alerted to their presence by the gun and Marty could imagine the dilemma the captain faced. Did he continue the chase? Turn and face the two ships closing in on him or abandon the chase and run for it.
Marty ordered another gun fired, a direct challenge and then scooted down a stay to the deck.
“Get the ship to quarters.” He ordered Ackermann.
“Frigate is turning away from the Falcon and reducing sail.” Came the report from above.
“Pride before a fall!” grinned Marty to no one in particular.
Marty knew several things. The Frigate’s bottom must be encrusted in weed as she hadn’t been able to catch the Falcon before they had gotten there. That also meant her captain realised he couldn’t outrun them so he had to stand and fight. French ships were notoriously overmanned by British standards and if she had a full crew, he was up against a ship with three hundred to three hundred and fifty men on board.
He had no doubt that the Tempest could outshoot the French three shots to every two. But she was a thirty-two gunner and she would be carrying twelve pounders.
“Raise the signal Twelve B,” he told young Stanley who was his signalman.
The boy was bright, and Marty had every intention of making him a midshipman when they returned to the Navy proper.
Both the Eagle and Falcon acknowledged and turned away from the Frigate.
‘What do you make of that then.” Marty thought as he watched the Frigate through a glass.
They were two miles away and the Frigate had turned towards him.
“Reduce sail! Ready the chasers! Load both sides, double shot!”
He called Ryan and Ackermann to him.
“I am going to go bow to bow with him and let him make the choice which side he takes us. I’m betting he will want the wind gauge but be ready whichever way he goes. Don’t run out until he commits and aim for his main mast. The forward carronade goes for his fore mast rigging. If they get another shot, go for his quarterdeck. The aft carronades load with chain and go for the mainmast rigging.” He looked at the two of them.
“Clear?”
They both nodded.
“Then get to it and good luck.” He shook hands with both of them.
Samuel and Blaez had appeared and he donned his weapons, checking the priming on his pistols before clipping them on.
“Raise the colours!” He called.
James watched as the two ships closed. He was wearing the Eagle to get her in a position where he could swoop in and either rake the Frigate across the bow or stern. The Falcon was working hard to get in a similar position.
At a range of a mile The Tempest’s bow chasers spoke answered a minute later by the lesser voice of the Frigate’s.
“Long nines,” he said out loud.
His men cheered as the Frigate shuddered as one of the Tempest’s balls hit her transom on the larboard bow. She didn’t seem to have scored on The Tempest.
Marty stood and watched through his telescope and saw the explosion of wood from the hit. They were not closing so fast now as they had both reduced sails to fighting topsails only. The Tempest’s chasers spoke again. This time there was a hit just below her bowsprit that knocked the whole thing out of line causing the bow to turn slightly to starboard.
The frigate’s starboard bow chaser fired, and the ball knocked the end four feet off the fore, main boom. The Larboard one stayed silent, ‘looks like that hit put it out of action.’ Marty ignored it and stayed totally focused on his opponent. He saw a slight change in the sails which looked like she would turn to larboard. James started moving to the starboard guns.
“WAIT!” Marty barked freezing him place, he suspected a feint.
Then her sails switched back and she turned to starboard to take him down his left side.
“GO!” He shouted, and James went to work with the larboard battery.
Paul la Pierre had already deployed his sharp shooters with their Baker rifles and swivels, and as they got to one hundred yards apart Marty could hear the pop as the better shots started sniping from the tops.
They passed half a cable apart. The Frenchman had the weather gauge and was heeled over towards The Tempest.
The forward carronade fired first as it could be trained further forward than the mains. The chain shot hissed across the water causing a shimmer in the air and then scythed into the foremast rigging. Then they were passing each other, and both ships seemed to hold their breath as they came broadside to broadside.
Both ships fired at the same time. The French chain and bar shot howled through the Tempest’s rigging and the Tempest’s double balls smashed through the Frenchman’s hull opposite her main mast that shuddered as it was hit repeatedly. Marty saw that her mid-section of three gun-ports was blown into one large hole. That evened things up a bit.
“Good shooting!” he shouted to Ryan
Marty dodged a block that fell, missing him by a couple of feet, two of his men weren’t so lucky and were crushed by the mizzen boom as it crashed to the deck, ripping through the nets. Matai and his afterguard rushed to clear the wreckage out of the way finding the bodies and moving them to the centreline. Mates were shouting orders to make running repairs and Marty ordered,
“Wear ship to starboard!” Ackermann jumped to comply.
Marty looked at the Frigate over the stern and saw she was called the Bravoure. He had counted fourteen twelve-pounders and at least six six-pounders along her side. Even if she was down to eleven twelve-pounders she was still a formidable enemy.
The French ship had also started a turn but then straightened up as the captain realised that would expose his stern to being raked by the Eagle. So, he maintained course and waited for Marty’s next move.
“He’s not stupid this one,” Marty commented to Ackermann.
He looked across at the wheel and saw John Smith was at it.
“How’s your bits John?” He called with a grin which caused a laugh from the men nearby.
“Still bigger than yours skipper,” John quipped back.
Marty roared with laughter.
James watched the first exchange and when the Frenchman looked like he would wear he started to position to cross his stern. The French captain spotted that immediately and straightened his course, sending the message ‘if you want to rake me you have to pass through my broadside first.’ James stuck to the plan and held back. He would get his opportunity soon enough.
Pieter was still struggling to beat back against the wind to get into position with the Falcon. He was trying to get upwind so he could work with the Eagle when the opportunity to rake or board came. He looked at the French ship with hate in his heart. They had persuaded the Dutch people to become a Republic and then taxed the life out of them. Worse, his father was an avid supporter of the new democracy and that had eventually led him to steal a ship and head to the Caribbean to make a new life of his own.
The Tempest completed her turn and Marty put on a bit more sail to catch up with the Frenchman. He asked the lookouts to maintain their scan on the horizon to make sure no one was coming to interfere.
Ryan ran out the starboard guns and the larboard guns were reloaded.
“Here we go again!” Marty shouted.
The ships settled broadside to broadside and the guns roared. The Tempest’s mains concentrating on the main mast while the carronades went for the rigging and quarterdeck. The Bravoure stayed firing high for the first broadside and more of the Tempest’s rigging crashed to the deck including the main topmast that dropped like a spear to embed itself through the deck planking, but they were still sailing.
The Tempest got her second broadside away first and the Bravoure’s mainmast took on a slight cant. Their reply was aimed lower as they tried to silence some of the Tempest’s guns. One of the twelve pounders took a direct hit on the barrel sending it careening across the deck squashing half its crew to pulp in an instant.
The Tempest: The Dorset Boy Book 5 Page 13