The Tempest: The Dorset Boy Book 5

by Christopher C Tubbs

  Hans pondered this for a moment and replied,

  “I will go ashore and put your proposal to them and make it clear the military supports it. Then we will see if the greedy bastards have any sense at all.”

  He grinned.

  “I might have to shoot the Burgermeester of Bonaire to get it through.”

  Marty laughed,

  “A man after my own heart,” and shook his hand.

  They got a message they could anchor in the Waaigut, the natural harbour, but could not leave their ships. Marty had the British flag flown; he knew he was pushing the limits of diplomatic proprietary, but he thought, ‘if I get the agreement then no one will care.’ They all felt a little vulnerable at first, then Marty noticed the guns on the fort all pointed out to sea and there was something wrong with the layout. It suddenly struck him- there was a casement missing. It looked like they stopped building it before it was finished!

  He heard nothing that evening and the waiting was getting to him, so he invited Shelby, Ryan, and Wolverton in for dinner and a game or two of cards. Bridge was the favoured game. The other three had taught Marty how to play and now he was getting to be quite good at it.

  There was a lamp burning the citronella oil in his cabin and others around the ships to keep the mosquitos away. It was still around eighty degrees Fahrenheit, Marty had one of the new mercury thermometers in his cabin along with his yard-long barometer, and they had the transom window wide open to catch the breeze.

  “The citronella seems to work,” Marty commented to make conversation as they waited for Wolverton to make his opening bid.

  “It would appear so,” Shelby replied, “we have suffered far less fever than I believe is common in these climes, and I am happy to attribute that to the burning of the oil.”

  “Four hearts,” Wolverton finally bid.

  Marty was surprised at that, knowing he had the Ace and Jack in his hand, but he had a long run of Spades, so he counter bid, “Four Spades.”

  Ryan was Wolverton’s partner and chewed his lip while he thought about what he should bid.

  “How are your supplies of the herb? Do we need to get more?” Marty asked.

  “We have enough for now but if we are staying here for another year, then we will need to get some more.”

  Ryan finally made up his mind, “Five hearts.”

  Shelby grinned at Marty and said, “Five spades.”

  Wolverton came back immediately with, “Seven hearts.”

  “No bid,” said Marty, which was repeated by Ryan and Shelby.

  Ryan laid down his cards as he was the dummy and sat back.

  What followed was a masterclass. Wolverton finessed the Ace and took the jack with the queen, leaving Marty holding the one trick he didn’t win.

  The night progressed with the advantage swinging one way then the other. The empty wine bottles stacked up and in the end they all went to bed at around midnight.

  The next day woke clear and sunny with no sign of any movement of boats towards them. At around midday just as the men were being served their meal, a small sailing craft left the dock with the Burgermeester from Bonaire stood on the deck. He, pointedly, didn’t look in their direction and had a dissatisfied air about him. They guessed he was on his way home.

  Around two o’clock, Marty watched a boat pull away from the shore and recognised Hans sat in the stern. When it hooked onto the chains he called up,

  “Martin, you are invited to attend the ruling council at the invitation of the Voorsitter. Will you come over with me now?”

  Marty got his coat and hat and stepped down into the boat, Samuel beside him as usual. Blaez was under orders to stay behind and watched them leave. He stood with his front paws on the rail with Matai close by to stop him jumping over the side.

  They pulled up to a set of steps set into the dock and carefully stepped ashore as they were covered in green slimy weed. A marine guard of three men stood to attention and took the salute from Hans. Marty touched his hat in respect. He was surprised when they didn’t fall into step behind them.

  Hans set a good pace and led him to a rather grand building. He gestured to it,

  “This is the Stadhuis or Raadhuis. You would know it as the government building. This is where the politicians make themselves fat.”

  Marty laughed and replied,

  “You don’t have a lot of respect for them, do you?”

  “Not really. Most of them are just out to line their pockets or tell everyone what to do.” Hans replied with a grimace as he pushed open the large, ornately carved doors.

  Inside, it was noticeably cooler. The floors were stone and nicely polished. The walls were plastered and had paintings of various worthies hung from them. Hans led him to a set of double doors, gave him a quick once over, nodded in approval, and pushed the doors open.

  Inside was a grand room with a large round table set in the centre. Around it sat eight men with one sat in a chair that had a higher back. He had a pile of papers stocked in front of him.

  Hans stopped them beside the table at an empty chair and announced,

  “Captain Martin Stockley, Royal Navy.”

  The chairman, at least that’s who Marty assumed he was, stood and said,

  “We bid you welcome, Captain, even though you made your presence known in a most unconventional way. However, I still believe you haven’t been entirely honest with us yet.”

  Marty looked at him without changing expression but was wondering what was coming next when the man held up a London newspaper,

  “I believe that you are actually Baron Candor as well as Captain Stockley. Am I correct?”

  ‘How the hell?’ Marty thought then made out the headline. It was the coverage of his wedding to Caroline!

  “That is a rather old newspaper, but you are correct,” he replied with a nod, “but in the Navy, I am just Captain Stockley.”

  “Ahh, but this is a diplomatic mission, so I believe your other rank will take precedence,” the chairman said, looking hopeful.

  ‘He wants this to be agreed at a civilian level and thinks my rank will swing it.’ Marty realised as he suddenly had a vision of the Governor of the West Indies and the Prime minister being presented with a treaty with his Baron’s seal attached. ‘Oh well. In for a penny in for a pound,’ he decided.

  “Of course,” he agreed and followed up with, “any agreement will have to be ratified by our governments in the end though.”

  The man nodded then proceeded to introduce himself, Antonius van der Meer, and the other seven men. He then bid Marty sit and apologised that their ninth member had to leave on urgent business. Yes, I saw him! Marty thought.

  “My Lord Candor, we have discussed your proposal and have come to a Majority agreement that we should accept,” he announced.

  Marty looked around the table and saw only smiling faces. So Bonaire was the only dissenter.

  They then started to draft an official document, and Marty asked if he could send Samuel back to the Tempest for Fletcher. He wanted a second opinion on this and didn’t trust the good Burgers not to slip something in that was to their advantage.

  Fletcher turned up suited and booted! When Marty raised his eyebrows at the sight of him, he whispered that he was forewarned when Samuel told him, “de Burgers think that de Captain be a lord or something. What is a baron?”

  Marty grinned at Samuel and winked. The big man relaxed.

  De Captain’s playing a trick, he thought. He had had enough surprises already when he found out that Marty was in the Navy.

  In the end, it took two days to negotiate a mutually acceptable treaty, and they made a ceremony out of signing and sealing six copies of the document. One for them to keep in Curaçao, one for Marty, one each for their Governments, one for the British Governor in Jamaica, and a spare. Marty had the marine that was his resident artist come ashore and sketch the signing ceremony with an idea to get a painting made later.

  A feast was held to celebrate the ne
w treaty and all his officers, including Pieter, were invited. The families of the councillors were in attendance and his lieutenants were much in demand for dancing by their daughters. He warned them not to cause a diplomatic incident but needn’t have worried. James was smitten with Josee and Ryan only had a certain little bird in his mind while he danced. Marty had to fend off a couple of amorous women, making it clear he was a happily married man. One replied so was she (married that is).

  He was introduced to Genever, the Dutch spirit that was halfway between whiskey and gin. They gifted him with a case as a parting gift. The hangover he had the next morning made him swear never to drink it again.

  Chapter 20: Back to the Navy

  They left Curaçao and sailed directly to Jamaica to deliver the treaty and entered Port on the second of May to find not just the Flagship but also the Bethany anchored up waiting for them.

  Marty flew the British flag, raised the signal ‘dispatches’, and received, ‘Captain report aboard,’ back almost immediately.

  He reached the top of the entry to be greeted with full captain’s honours, which surprised him, by a new Flag Lieutenant, and he was escorted down to the admiral’s quarters. The sentry bellowed out his name, “Captain Stockley, sah!” and he was ushered in to find Admirals Hood and Duckworth in attendance.

  There was greetings all around and Marty was invited to sit and make his report, which he did, handing over two copies of the treaty at the end along with his written report.

  “Well done, my boy,” beamed Hood as he looked over the document, “So, would you say your mission is complete?”

  Marty looked at him sideways for a moment. Sensing something else was coming, he said, “Almost, there is one last thing that needs to be done.”

  He then went on to describe the Spanish treasure ship, the intelligence he had on its departure date, and port of departure.

  Duckworth whistled and got an avaricious look in his eye. Hood smiled benevolently at him, already counting his share.

  Duckworth coughed and said, “We have news that Villeneuve and his fleet have escaped from Toulon. Admiral Hood brought the news on your ship.”

  “Cadged a lift as it was the fastest way to get here,” Hood explained, “She is one hell of a ship and your captain knows how to squeeze every last knot out of her.”

  “Yes, that’s as maybe,” Duckworth interceded, “but the result is you are now part of the Navy again and the Tempest is being hired in along with that schooner of yours. We were going to attach you to the squadron, but I’m now thinking you could do better going after that Spanish gold; we don’t want that ending up in Napoleon’s hands!”

  Hood had to agree even though he could see his cut receding into the distance. He brightened when Marty said,

  “I agree, sir, but as we will be an independent force made up of the Tempest, Eagle, Falcon and Bethany, would it not be better if we were under the Special Operations Flotilla’s command, detached to your good self as C. in C. Jamaica?”

  Duckworth looked at him shrewdly then at Hood, who was grinning openly,

  “I can see why you hang on to this young fellow. He’s almost too clever for his own good. Alright, agreed. T hat’s how we will do it. This way, you can give your pirates their share as well,” he said, probably including Hood in that statement as well.

  “Go ashore and get into uniform. I believe Caroline has had new ones made for you already,” Hood told him, “She was rather pleased at the news of your promotion.”

  When he arrived at the house with Blaez and Samuel in tow, he was greeted by a scream as Caroline saw him at the door and she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him thoroughly.

  “Most unladylike!” Marty grinned at her as they stopped for a second to catch their breath. He put her down and looked around. Samuel was greeting Tom like a long-lost friend and he just caught a glimpse of Blaez heading either to the nursery or kitchen.

  He looked Tom over, “You are looking better, old friend,” he stated as he first shook his hand then hugged him.

  “Now, that ain’t the way a captain should behave,” Tom laughed, “this feller been looking after you?” he asked with a nod to Samuel.

  “Yes, he has done you proud,” Marty replied.

  The conversation was interrupted by a shout of “Daddy!” and a pair of arms clamping around his legs followed closely by a smaller pair.

  He reached down and picked up Bethany with one arm, James with the other, and kissed them both.

  “Bwaez told us you were home!” Bethany declared, a big smile on her face. She had the same auburn hair as her mother, and her looks, but with her father’s brown eyes. Young James was the spitting image of Marty when he was that age with curly blond hair that would probably fade to brown as he got older.

  “How long have we got?” Caroline asked.

  “About a week before we have to leave. I have some news.”

  He explained about the treaty and treasure ships and that the admirals wanted him to go after it.

  “Oh, that’s OK then,” Caroline said as he finished.

  “Uh, what’s ok?” Marty asked, sensing she had decided on something.

  “Well, I will be coming with you. On the Bethany, of course.” She smiled at him.

  “What gave you that idea?” Marty asked, knowing he had to put up a fight even if he was sure to lose.

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed, a sure sign she was not going to give in, “she is as much my ship as she is yours and she isn’t going anywhere without me. You are not leaving me at home this time!”

  Tom and Samuel beat a tactical retreat and headed down to the kitchen to leave the two of them to fight it out. Tom bet Samuel a shilling Marty would lose.

  The next morning, mussy from lack of sleep, Marty ate breakfast and played with the children. Caroline sat victorious and glowing at the other end of the table, chattering about how they would visit the tailor that made his new uniforms and get them fitted. After that, they’d visit the Bethany and… It all passed Marty by; he was totally absorbed in his children, who had grown so much since he had seen them last. He only realised Caroline stopped talking and was just watching him when Mary came and took them for their morning nap.

  “Have you done anything about buying that yard yet?” he asked.

  “No, I was waiting to see what you would do first. I didn’t want to buy a yard and start building ships if you were going to end the piracy problem.”

  “I haven’t stopped it, only disrupted it. The Americans and Spanish, and probably the French. will just have to sell their goods in Cuba or Puerto Rico now, which makes it easier for the fleet to intercept them.

  The door opened and a young, pretty servant girl appeared and said, “you have a visitor, sir. Admiral Hood?”

  “Please show him to the library, Tabetha,” Caroline told her and shooed Marty away to go and meet him. “I want to know everything he says,” she whispered.

  Hood was already ensconced in an arm-chair with a cup of coffee when Marty got there. He looked at Marty’s tired face and smiled knowingly.

  “Caroline well?” he asked innocently.

  “A bundle of energy,” Marty replied dryly as he sat down. “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “I have been thinking that I’m just getting in the way hanging around on the flagship,” he started.

  Marty had a sense of foreboding.

  “I was thinking that I might come along with you on your expedition to confound the Spanish, what?”

  “You mean take command?” Marty replied.

  “Good grief, no! Absolutely not!” Hood declared, “It’s your mission and your ships, and anyway, I am retired. I was thinking more as an advisor on fleet operations, you not having experience of commanding such in the past.”

  “Which ship were you thinking of travelling on?” Marty asked, seeing himself in Ryan’s cabin for the duration of the mission.

  “I was thinking the Bethany-
lots of room and nice cabins,” the admiral replied much to his relief.

  “And full of men who have served under you,” Marty finished for him.

  Hood just smiled.

  “Well, I can no more stop you than I can my wife, so welcome aboard.” Marty agreed, putting a brave face on it.

  Hood’s face took on a frown, “Caroline is sailing on the Bethany?”

  “As she kept reminding me, ‘It is as much her ship as mine,’ and yes, she will be sailing with you.”

  “But…” Hood started to say as the door opened and Caroline breezed in and said,

  “But what, Admiral?” as she gave him the full force of her smile.

  “Nothing, my dear, nothing,” he wisely replied, realizing she had been outside listening to everything.

  The visit to the tailor was as annoying and boring as Marty feared it would be. The little man fussed over every detail and Caroline made endless suggestions. In the end, he walked out with several new uniforms with a single gold epaulette on the right shoulder. They were of the new style and less fancy than the older style with less gold embroidery. He had two everyday uniforms that were quite plain and two dress uniforms, one of which was full dress and would carry his Order of the Bath and other awards.

  He re-boarded the Tempest in uniform and there was an instant hush.

  “Call the men to muster on the main deck, Lieutenant Ackermann,” he ordered the startled man.

  When they were all in place, he walked to the rail of the quarterdeck.

  “Men, as you can see, a few things have changed,” he said, indicating his uniform and nodding to Ryan Thompson as he emerged on deck also in full uniform.

  “Mr. Ackermann is out of uniform but is the first lieutenant of the Tempest as she is now a Navy ship of the Special Operations Flotilla; of which I am serving officer.” He looked around, judging the reaction, which varied from grins carried on the faces of the ‘ex’ Navy boys to looks of horror on most of the freelancers.”