Sails Across the Sea: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 8)
Page 16
With the news out of the way, John drew him into the smoking room and landed him a letter that had come in that day’s post. With the Admiralty seal, Tim knew before opening it, it was likely the summons to a new ship.
And, so it was. He was ordered to report on board HMS Andromeda at the Nore anchorage before the end of the week. He was to read himself in and inform Lord Eckersley of the date he expected to sail. Further orders would be sent to him by messenger.
He had never seen the Andromeda before. He expected it would be another sloop-of –war like Badger, requiring a commander as her captain.
He was astonished when his father informed him the vessel was a twenty four gun, twelve pounder post ship that needed a post captain to command her.
HMS Andromeda, a sixth-rate post ship was anchored well out, probably to deter crew from slipping overboard and swimming to shore. Tim Phillips had taken rooms ashore with his father. He penned a note to the first officer of the ship, announcing his intention to come aboard this same afternoon. He looked for a ship’s boat he could give the note to deliver, but there were none at the landing or close by offshore. He selected a small fishing smack preparing to put out for a day’s work. He paid them to drop by the Andromeda and deliver the note.
He had not asked the ship to send a boat, but at noon, a beautifully finished gig approached the landing, remaining just offshore. A youth in the immaculate uniform of a midshipman sat stiffly in the sternsheets. The boat crew were all dressed in identical uniforms and it was plain had gone to much trouble to present a good appearance.
Both father and son went down to the landing and stood. Both were in uniform, Phillips Senior clad in the uniform of a senior captain, while his son wore that of a commander. The boat beached, and a crew pulled it up far enough so the men could step in dry shod.
The only word uttered on the long pull out to the ship was Tim Phillip’s question about who was in command at the moment, with the midshipman reporting the first officer being in command.
That officer was standing at the entry port with the ship’s Royal Marines, the requisite side-boys and the bosun’s mates with their pipes. Seeing the elder Phillips’ epaulettes, the lieutenant at first confused him as being the new ship’s captain until Tim produced his orders, handed them to the officer and asked him to read them to the assembled crew.
Adjourning to the cabin, the first officer, Lieutenant Henderson introduced himself, stating he had just come aboard himself a week ago. When asked the whereabouts of the former ship’s captain, Henderson said both the captain and former first officer had left for London moments after he had reported aboard. He did not wish to speculate over the reason, but a quick glance at the log showed there had been dissention between the two officers, coming to a head when the previous first officer challenged the captain. This being against Royal Navy policy, first the lieutenant was ordered to London to face his inquiry. Then, Admiralty seemingly having discovered reasons for the dispute, called for the captain also.
John Phillips whistled at the news. “It will be a long spell before they go to sea again. Admiralty will never put up with these situations, no matter who is right or wrong.”
Fortunately, there had been a complete inventory taken by the previous captain and signed onto by the new first officer.
Phillips took his time before making any changes aboard ship. The log showed discipline problems had been minor. Finding the ship had been anchored in place for a month, Phillips asked for and received permission to take the ship to sea for short, day-long exercises to check the crew’s proficiency at sail and gun drill.
He had no complaints with the men’s sail handling, but their gun drill was abysmal. Apparently they had never actually fired their guns. Even the small allotment of ammunition allowed by the Admiralty had never been used.
The men were used to merely running the guns in and out of the ports in simulation. Phillips had not had the opportunity yet to acquire extra ammunition of his own for practice use. He did use up the practice allotment though. After keeping the men at practice for an hour, he allowed each gun to fire one round. This burned up slightly over the allotment, and he could well be charged for it if he could not come up with a reason that would satisfy the officials,
The day finally came when a Royal Navy launch and boat crew hooked on alongside and a dapper midshipman climbed aboard with a sealed message. This ordered him to proceed to Portsmouth and report to the port admiral there.
Receiving permission to get under way, they pulled up anchor and set sail just as soon as the mail boat returned from shore.
On the way to Portsmouth, lookouts were ordered to keep an extra sharp eye open for enemy shipping. He knew well at this stage of the war, good prizes were few and far between, but even a barge bearing cabbages was fair game so long as she was under the French flag. He would then have an excuse for firing a few guns without incurring the wrath of the service. No such targets tempted them. The only shipping encountered were some colliers and many fishing boats, all British, of course.
At Portsmouth, Andromeda saluted the flag and received the signal to send an officer ashore. With Lieutenant Henderson being the only other officer on board, Phillips decided to go himself. He received a warrant from a bored civilian official to catch the next coach to London and report to the Admiralty there,
Having just recently come from the Admiralty, Phillips wondered just how necessary this trip really was. However he had the order and the warrant. There were some hours to wait for the next coach, so he used that time to visit a chandler and arrange for more cabin stores. The chandler did not normally have powder and shot in stock but he did know where to obtain the material. He gave the chandler his note of hand in payment and went to the inn where he settled down with a quart of beer and a paper while he waited for the London coach. Hopefully the supplies would be sent aboard the ship while he travelled.
Purchasing pen, ink and paper from the innkeeper he penned a note to Mister Henderson and sent it by messenger, advising him of his destination and requesting he take aboard the supplies the chandler would be delivering.
The visit to the Admiralty was brief. Lord Eckersley apologizing for the necessity of requiring him to make the journey. He quickly explained the purpose of his next voyage.
“We have an important official travelling to South America. He must visit the Spanish Province of Venezuela, at the port of Caracas. HM Government has heard reports of an uprising there and our diplomat is charged to see what can be done with the situation. Your ship will have already received visitors from the Portsmouth dockyard to examine the possibility of constructing quarters for the diplomat and his entourage. They will of necessity occupy a portion of the great cabin of Andromeda. It is unfortunate your ship is of such a small size, but at this state of the war, we just do not have a line-of-battle ship to spare, which otherwise might be more appropriate. The diplomat, by the way, will be Lord Forsythe, with whom I think you are familiar. It was his wife that you returned from the Mediterranean.”
Bon Voyage, Captain!”