"Hey girls, remember me? I got goodies!" She held out a handful of choice nuts. The dodos let out squawks of pleasure, and rushed over to her, nearly knocking her down with their enthusiasm. They were big birds! Gerbald rescued her, carefully shoving them back.
"They haven't forgotten their favorite food source!" he said, laughing.
Pam scattered the nuts on the ground and laughed along as the hens gobbled them up, soon joined by their children.
They spent the rest of the afternoon playing Pied Piper, moving through the forest until they had a flock of some thirty dodos following them, including enough males to ensure a breeding population.
"Come along kiddies, it's time to go down to the beach! You get to go on a boat ride!" Pam called out gaily, making Gerbald grin happily at seeing his friend acting silly for a change; it had been too long. The demands of her office had been great, now Pam was free to just be "The Bird Lady" again.
Capturing the dodos for transport was fairly easy, just a matter of leaving a trail of breadcrumbs up the gangways into the longboats parked on the beach. They were placed by twos and threes into temporary travel cages made of bamboo, from which they would be transferred to the special travel pen Pam had designed for the main cargo hold of the junk.
The very last dodo, a rather cantankerous older male, decided suddenly that he didn't want to go along with the rest, and began making a fuss, clucking his displeasure and trying to back out of the cage. Pam grimaced at him, and with as much gentleness as she could, firmly placed her leather boot in his rump just below his fluffy tail, and shoved him back in. Gerbald closed the door, and gave her a wry arching of his brow.
"Thank God, nobody's got a camera," Pam said. "Pam Miller kicking an endangered species in the ass would be just the thing for the front page of the paper."
The Second Chance Bird's dodo pen lay directly beneath the large hatch doors of the spacious hold, where the birds, and the many potted trees and plants accompanying them, would have fresh air and sunlight for at least part of the day. By midnight, the dodos were safely tucked away, and everyone caught a bit of sleep. They sailed at dawn, Pam keeping vigil on the castle deck, watching the island that had been her home for so long recede into the distance until it disappeared over the aquamarine horizon.
"I'll see to it you get back here, if you wish it," Torbjorn told her from the wheel.
"I wish that, very much," Pam answered, giving him a smile and a kiss on the cheek before going down to her cabin to catch up on lost sleep. It would be a long voyage, without much to do.
The days passed by, one slipping into the next as they headed west, Antarctica to their south, Africa to their north. They would sail as the crow flies if the winds allowed, taking the most direct route possible. No one seemed much worried about attack from the famed Barbary pirates or potentially hostile European forces, anyone taking on the Second Chance Bird would find themselves regretting it.
Pam often sat on the deck with her feet hanging down into the hold so she could watch her charges, listening to the throaty coos and clacking beaks of the dodos emanating from below. The birds had adjusted well enough to shipboard life, and seemed content to eat as many fruits and nuts as she could give them, to the point where they were actually gaining weight and beginning to resemble the fat and spoiled captive dodo that must have been the model for John Tenniel's illustration.
The thought of taking these creatures out of their natural habitat and dragging them all the way back to Europe didn't sit well with her now that she was actually doing it. But, she had promised the princess, and there was no way around that. It was better she did it herself than trust it to anyone else, if something went wrong it would be on her conscience. So, she was making the long trip "home," when she would much rather be back in Wonderland. Pam simply chocked it all up to fate, and resigned herself to it, instead of fretting the way the old Pam would have. Her actions mattered to a lot more people than she ever could have conceived of back up-time, here was a job that only she could do, a need only she could fill. Captain Pam smiled contentedly into the fading daylight over the South Atlantic as the Second Chance Bird and its precious cargo plowed on toward Europe.
Chapter Seventy-Three: Mission Accomplished
There were a great many stares from the shore as the fancifully-painted junk headed toward Hamburg harbor, flying the dodo flag of the Wonderland Colonies that Dore had crafted, crewed by darkly-tanned Swedes, some with their blonde hair bleached nearly white by the tropical sun. They had accumulated a large fleet of various craft following behind them, curiosity seekers anxious to see what such an odd-looking foreign vessel was doing plying the cold waters of the North Sea.
Pam, knowing in advance from the radio that there would be some kind of an official welcome wagon waiting, put on her favorite black dress, a sexy, side-slitted affair, Chinese silk with a filigree of gold flowers. She nodded to herself approvingly, knowing that she looked pretty damn good in the racy little thing. Her necklace of precious "pirate pearls" went on next, and with a wry smile she strapped on her knife and pistol belt, its weight a comfort. She felt very pleased to be making herself part of the spectacle, the shy Pam of old long gone.
There was a festive gathering on the dock they were headed for, including a brightly-painted banner proclaiming "Welcome Back, Bird Lady!" which made Pam laugh aloud. If you can't beat them join them. Bird Lady I shall be. As they tied up, a USE Navy band started playing. It took her a moment to realize the song was "Country Road." Pam smiled at the choice. At this point it would be kind of nice to see their little circle of West Virginia again. She chuckled happily to see that Princess Kristina was jumping up and down waving crazily, backed by a mob of Grantville students from the old Summer Nature Program. Pam thought the girl looked quite a bit taller, and maybe a little more careworn than before, but she was definitely still a goofy kid. Suddenly, Pam realized who was standing behind her-it was her son Walt and his wife Crystal, and she was holding. the baby! Pam really had become a grandma, and while she was thrilled, she had to quell an inner voice that shrieked, But I'm much too young!
The next few minutes passed in a blur as she was engulfed in hugs from Crystal, and kissed her new grandson, who pulled her hair and laughed, which made Pam love him all the more.
"Boy oh boy, has your ole' granny got some stories to tell you my lad!" she said as she looked into his bright eyes-they were the Miller stormy gray, which was good, but thank God he had his mother's lush red hair!
Walt was quiet, as usual, but they smiled and embraced. Hopefully, she could make things right with him this time. Eventually, the initial fervor died down, and Kristina approached her, a shy smile on her face.
"I'm glad you made it home, Pam. I was worried," Kristina told her in her perfect, yet quaintly-accented, English.
Pam smiled, and replied in her perfect yet-according to her boyfriend-quaintly-accented Swedish. "It was touch and go for a while. I'll tell you the whole story when we get a chance."
Kristina raised her eyebrows, impressed with Pam's new mastery of her own native tongue, and continued in the same, "I should like very much to hear it!'
Pam's face took on a somber cast.
"Some good people died making this happen, and I need you to hear their tales. We owe them a lot."
Kristina bowed her head, her face also grown somber. "I knew that would probably happen from the start, and I'm very sorry to hear it. Even so, I still feel that the cause was worth it. Do you, Pam?"
Pam marveled at how someone so young could seem like such a wise old adult at times.
"Yes, I do, Kristina, I do. It was all worth it." Pam made her face brighten and took on a cheerier tone. "Sorry for being a downer, there will be time to mourn lost friends later. Today is for celebration, so let's cheer up!"
Kristina brightened up as well, but Pam could still see pain in her eyes. She had heard the news about the death of her mother, the queen, and knew Kristina had suffered much in the years since they f
irst met at Cair Paravel back in Grantville. Pam reached into her trusty old rucksack, which a madly grinning Torbjorn held for her, and pulled out a finely-carved Chinese box made of teak. With a bow and a flourish, she gave it to the princess.
"I have some additions to your crown jewels for you. It's real pirate treasure!"
Kristina's eyes took on a happy sparkle, bright enough to match the jewelry and gems that waited within.
"Really? Pirate treasure? How grand, thank you!" she exclaimed with delight, hugging the box to her chest.
"I have something for you, too, Pam," she said, switching into English. She carefully handed the precious box to a guard, then raised her hand to get everyone's attention.
"The race to save the dodo is over, and just like the 'caucus race' in Lewis Carroll's wonderful book, everybody wins." With a grin that nearly split her perpetually pale face, Kristina reached into her pocket, and pulled out a silver thimble.
"'We beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble,'" Kristina quoted the Dodo as she placed it in Pam's hand. It had the Tenniel version of the bird etched on it, along with an inscription in English that read Thank you for saving us-The Dodos.
"You did it, Pam. Only you could. We are all very proud of you."
Pam laughed, her sharp gray eyes growing misty with emotion.
"Yeah, I guess I really did. And I couldn't have done it without you. You are the hero here just as much as me, kiddo." Pam felt the weight of all she had been through, all she had worked so hard for, lifting off her shoulders. It seemed like a dream already. Her hand shook, as she gazed down at the pretty thimble, shining brightly under the northern spring sun, blurring as her eyes filled with joyful tears.
Kristina saw that her friend was feeling overwhelmed, so she stepped forward and embraced her in a hug that would do any bear proud, the gawky young girl was stronger than she looked. Pam hugged her back, just as she would her own children, her heart full of pride at their accomplishment. They had changed the world for the better, a small change, perhaps, but one that would reverberate through the new centuries ahead, a second chance for a funny-looking bird that was no longer doomed to extinction, not in Pam Miller's world, anyway.
"Everybody wins," Pam whispered.
In the hold of the Second Chance Bird, a dodo squawked, wondering what was holding up feeding time.
Naval Armament and Armor, Part One, Big Guns at Sea
Iver P. Cooper
This article is concerned with naval artillery-swivel guns and up-not with the small arms that might be carried onboard. It looks at both what was in use at the time of the Ring of Fire (RoF; 1631), and what up-time innovations might be introduced post-RoF. Much of what is discussed here is relevant to land warfare, too.
Before I go into details, I want to issue a few warnings. First, avoid the "Hornblower Syndrome." By that I mean, don't assume that naval practices that were de rigeur during the Napoleonic Wars were equally commonplace two centuries earlier. It's okay to look at Napoleonic fleets for inspiration, however.
Secondly, recognize that in this article, I cover technological improvements that, in the old time line, spanned several centuries and individually may have taken years to develop (and decades to gain acceptance). The fact that I mention a possible technology should not be construed as meaning that Admiral Simpson will be implementing it next year. Or even next decade.
Third, consider armament development as a gestalt. The value of one technology may depend on the availability of another. Coordinated, albeit modest advances, may accomplish more than a narrowly focused breakthrough.
Early Modern Warship Classification
Warships serve a variety of functions, including participation as combatants or reconnaissance elements in fleets, escorting friendly shipping, raiding or blockading enemy shipping, and bombardment of enemy forts and towns. One size does not suit all purposes, so a navy will have a variety of warships, with armaments ranging from heavy to light.
In 1612, British warships were divided according to tonnage into ship royal (800 -1200 tons), middling ships (600–800), small ships (250–600), and pinnaces (80 -250). (Miles 20). They were reclassified (for wage purposes) into six rates, according to crew size, in 1626: 1st (›300), 2nd (250–300), 3rd (160–200), 4th (100–120), 5th (60–70), and 6th (40–50) (threedecks.org), and yes, I know there are gaps.
The 1621 naval budget divided Swedish warships into realskepp (regal ship), orlogsskepp (warship), mindre (small) orlogsskepp, pinasser (pinnaces), and farkoster. This scheme was abandoned after 1622. On Oct. 6, 1633, Axel Oxenstierna proposed a new system that divided orlogsskepp into stora (large) and ratta (normal), and split off minsta (smallest) from mindre. A simplified version of this system was used in the 1640s through 1670s. (Glete 328ff).
Naval expansion in the second half of the seventeenth century resulted in the development of rating systems based on the number of guns: six rates in England, seven charters in the Dutch Republic, and five ranges (and fregates legeres as a sixth) in France. (Glete). Here's one tabulation:
I have included several later British rating schemes; you can see how Napoleonic ships-of-the-line were expected to carry more guns than their seventeenth-century counterparts. Just to complicate matters further, the British rates were sometimes subdivided into classes.
In counting guns, the British navy ignored swivel guns and, in the nineteenth century, initially ignored carronades. Note that the rating system only considered the number of the guns, and not the weight of the shot they threw.
The term "battleship" dates back only to 1794; it was an abbreviation of "line-of-battle ship." I will unabashedly use the term "battleship" anachronistically to refer to the more powerful fleet units of any time period.
Initially, ships of the first four rates were considered powerful enough to be placed in the "line of battle," which didn't exist as a battle formation until the mid-seventeenth century. But by the mid-eighteenth century fourth rates tended be used only in backwaters (or by inferior navies). The principal battleship was the third rate, especially the Napoleonic "74." First and second rates were either flagships, or relegated to home defense.
In the 1630s, the term frigate still had strong traces of its original meaning, a kind of war-galley. It had come to mean a sailing ship that had long, sharp lines like those of a war-galley (fragata); they were sometimes called "galleon frigates" to differentiate them from the "galley frigate." In English usage, these race-built sailing ships could be merchantmen or warships.
The only "frigates" on the 1633 Navy List had a mere three guns and were probably royal yachts. Pepys considered the first true frigate built in England to be the Constant Warwick (1646), modeled on a French privateer; bearing 26–32 guns (Naval Encyclopedia). By 1650, the term was fixed as meaning a warship (OED), and it came to mean one with two decks, only one of which was a gun deck. Frigates were of the fifth and sometimes the sixth rates (a sixth rate with only a single deck was a "post ship" or a "corvette").
Frigates were used by fleets for reconnaissance; by convention, in a fleet engagement, a battleship wouldn't fire on a frigate unless the frigate had fired first. (And then the battleship would probably blow it out of the water.) They were also the ship of choice for detached service, much like late-nineteenth-century cruisers or twentieth-century destroyers.
A large and diverse group of British warships weren't rated. These included sloops-of-war, bomb ketches, and purpose-built fireships. In 1805, the sloops could further be divided into ship-rigged (three masts), with or without a quarterdeck, and brig-rigged (two masts). These all typically had 14–18 guns. (Miller 27). It's worth noting that in the mid-nineteenth-century American navy, a sloop-of-war could be a quite powerful warship. USS Portsmouth (1843) had 18x32pdr and two Paixhans (64pdr shell guns).
Armed Merchantmen
Merchant ships carry armament only when necessary. In the seventeenth-century southern Baltic, where piracy is rare, they typically are unarmed. In dangerous waters
such as the Caribbean, the Mediterranean, and certain Asian regions, they either must have cannon or be accompanied by armed escorts.
The cheapness of cast iron guns made it possible to increase the armament of the merchant ship. (Glete 52). While specialized warships existed even in the sixteenth century, most powers then didn't maintain permanent navies of significant size. Hence, they had to hire armed merchantmen. And to make sure that the civilian shipyards built ships that would be of value in wartime, the state gave economic incentives, such as reduced custom duties. (53).
Nonetheless, the specialized warship of the seventeenth century not only carried more guns, but often heavier ones. An armed merchantman might carry twelve-pounders, but 24-pounders and up were "exclusively warship armament." (Glete 28).
Because of the flimsiness of their hulls, the armed merchantmen couldn't slug it out for very long. Moreover, their crews were too small for sustained fire. If the guns were already loaded, then with one man per gun, they could get off one broadside quickly. And if both sides had been preloaded, and the ship turned, it could get off a second broadside the same way. After that, sustained fire was limited to a few guns. (Glete 53). They were slow, too.
Nonetheless, in the 1630s, an armed trader could be loaned, voluntarily or otherwise, to the Crown for emergency use in the fleet. But by the mid-seventeenth century, their military use was usually as convoy escorts, not as fleet units. (Glete 170). The Swedes were supposedly the last to use hired armed merchants in the main battle fleet. (Glete 193). However, the concept reappeared in the form of the early-twentieth-century Imperial Russian Volunteer Fleet, government-subsidized merchant ships built to an enhanced standard with a view toward wartime conversion. (Ireland 1997, 28).
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