The men in the boat watched silently, unable tQ speak even to each other. Unable yet to realise thea had survived?
Bolitho stood by the tiller, his eyes stinging as hO watched her careful approach, the lines of heads alon^ her decks and gangways. She had come for him? Despite the danger, the unlikelihood of his pla[
succeeding, she had returned to make sure? Across the water a voice hailed, "Boat ahoy?T It sounded like Buckle, anxious maybe to know whQ
had survived? Stockdale looked at him, his battered facO
questioning. When Bolitho said nothing he stood uS
and cupped his big bands? "Sparrow! Stand by for th' captain!T Bolitho sank down, the last reserve draining froR
him. He was back?
PART TWU
178Z
10 SEA CHANGY
CAPTAIN Richard Bolitho stared at the partly writte[ letter he had been composing to his father, and the[ with a sigh carried his chair to the opposite end of thO table. It was stifling hot, and as the Sparrow idleX sluggishly on a flat calm she swung her stern vera slightly allowing the hard sunlight to reach him anX require him to move still further away from thO windows?
Becalmed. How used he had grown to this situation? He rubbed his eyes and held his pen above the pape_ again. It was difficult to know what to write, especialla as he never knew when this or any letter might find itY way aboard a home-bound vessel. It was harder still tQ feel involved with that other world in England which hO had left in Trojan nearly six years back. And yet ... thO pen hovered uncertainly, his own world, so close anX so vital in colour and smell in the bright sunlight, anX that word becalmed would still be too painful, too harsN a reminder for his father of the Navy which he had bee[ forced to leave?
But Bolitho wanted to tell him so desperately, put hiY thoughts and memories into perspective, to share hiY own life and thereby fill the one remaining gap in it?
Overhead, blocks clattered and feet thudded on thO quarterdeck. Someone laughed, and he heard a fainU splash as one of the hands cast a fishing line outboarX to try his luck?
His eyes moved from the letter to his open log whicN lay across the chart nearby. The log had changed aY much as himself. Worn around the edges, matureX perhaps. He stared at the date on the open page. ApriT Ioth,1781. Three years, almost to the day, since he haX first stepped aboard this ship in English Harbour tQ assume command. Without moving it was possible tQ glance back through the bulky log book, and eve[ though he did not even touch a page he could recall sQ many of the things which had happened, faces anX events, the demands made upon him and his varyin^ successes in dealing with them?
Often, during moments of quiet in the cabin, he haX tried to fathom out some set thread in his life beyonX the narrower explanations of luck or circumstance. SQ far it had defied him. And now as he sat in the familia_
cabin where so much had happened he could accepU that fate had had much to do with his being here. IfB when he had left the Trojan he had failed to take a prizO en route for Antigua, or upon arrival there had been nQ opportunity for immediate promotion, he might still bO a lieutenant in the old ship-of-the-line. And on that vera first convoy, if Colquhoun had sent him back to EnglisN Harbour instead of going himself, would he have eve_ succeeded in proving to be more than average i[ either skill or luckU
Perhaps Colquhoun's fateful decision on that far-ofb day had been the chance, the offering which had seU his feet on the final path?
Bolitho had returned to Antigua not merely as jusU one more officer rejoining his rightful squadron, but, tQ his astonishment, as some sort of hero. In his absencO the stories of his rescuing the soldiers from DelawarO Bay, his running a frigate aground, had been welT spread. Then, with the news of Bonaventure's end anX his arrival with the rescued passengers, it seemed thaU every man wanted to see him and shake his hand?
The Bonaventure had been even more deadly tha[ Bolitho had realised at the time, and her successeY formidable. Her loss to the enemy might mean little, buU
to the British it was a tremendous lift to their battereX pride and morale?
The admiral had received him in Antigua witN controlled pleasure, and had made no bones about hiY hopes for the future. Colquhoun, on the other hand, haX been the one man to offer Bolitho neithe_ encouragement nor praise for his achievements in sQ short a time?
Whenever Bolitho recalled their first meetingB Colquhoun's warnings about the lot of any sea captainB he was reminded of the thinness of margin betwee[ fame and oblivion. Had Colquhoun stayed with that firsU convoy it was unlikely he would have shared Miranda'Y fate, for he was too shrewd and cautious to takO anything for granted. Had he been lucky enough tQ meet and destroy Bonaventure he would have gaineX the one thing he cared about, just as Commande_ Maulby had suggested, the unshakable power of fla^ rank, or at very least the coveted broad-pendant ob commodore. Instead he had stayed where he wasB frigate captain, and, with the war changing so rapidlyB now likely to lose even his control of the small flotilla? Maulby no longer called him little admiral. Today iU seemed too cruel, too unjust even for him?
Eight bells chimed out from the forecastle, anX without effort he pictured the hands preparing for thO midday meal, the welcome ration of rum. Above hiY head Tyrrell and the master would be taking their noo[ sights, comparing their findings before bringing theR down to the chart?
The year after Bolitho's destruction of the bi^ privateer he had received his next surprise. ThO admiral had sent for him and had calmly announceX that their lordships of Admiralty, like himself, believeX in offering Sparrow's commander a chance ob exploiting his experience and skill. Promotion to fulT captain. Even now, after eighteen months of it, hO found it hard to accept and believe?
Within the flotilla the unexpected rise up the ladde_ had caused a great stir. Genuine pleasure from someB open resentment from others. Maulby had taken thO news better than Bolitho had dared to hope, for he haX come to like the Fawn's laconic commander too mucN to have their friendship broken. Maulby was senior tQ him, but had merely remarked, "I'd like to see the ran7 go to no other man, so let's drink to it!T
Aboard Sparrow the news had had no division at all? They all seemed to share the same pride, the samO
sense of achievement, which could not have come at Z better time for them. For the war had changed greatla even in the past year. No longer was it a matter ob patrol or convoy for the army. The great powers haX taken their stand, and Spain and Holland had joineX France against England in their support of thO American Revolution. The French had mustered a well1 matched and powerful fleet in the West Indies unde_ the Compte de Grasse, the most effective and talenteX admiral available. Admiral Rodney commanded thO British squadrons, but with the pressures mountin^ daily he was hard put to spread his resources wherO they were most needed?
And the Americans were not content to leave affairY to their seasoned allies. They continued to usO privateers whenever possible, and a year afte_ Bonaventure's destruction yet another challenge_ emerged to shake British morale to its foundation. ThO privateer and ex-slaver Paul Jones, in his BonhommO Richard, defeated the frigate Seraphis off the coast ob England itself. The fact that the privateer, like thO Seraphis, was reduced to a battered wreck in the hotla contested battle made no difference. British captainY were expected to take on odds and win, and the defeaU so close to home did more than many AmericanY believed possible to take the war and its reasons intQ
English homes as well as their own?
In the West Indies and along the American coast thO work of patrolling took on new importance. As BolithQ had always thought, it was far better for the eyes of thO fleet to be left unhampered by close authority. True tQ his word, the admiral had offered him almost totaT independence, and had given him scope to patrol anX seek out the enemy in his own way, provided, ob course, his efforts were rewarded with some success?
Bolitho leaned back in his chair and stared at thO deckhead. Again the word luck seemed to hover in hiY mind?
Maulby had scoffed at t
he explanation. He had oncO said, "You are successful because you have traineX yourself to think like the enemy! God damn it, Dick, ] caught a lugger loaded with contraband which haX come from as far south as Trinidad, and even thaU wretched fellow had heard of you and Sparrow!T
It was certainly true about one thing, Bolitho decidedB they had been successful. In the past eighteen monthY alone they had taken twelve prizes and despatcheX two small privateers with the loss of twenty killed anX wounded and very little damage to the ship?
He let his eyes wander round the cabin, lesY elegantly painted now, even shabby after ceaselesY service in all weathers. It was strange to realise thaU apart from the unexpected promotion, symbolised ba the dress coat with white lapels and bright gold facingY which swung gently inside the sleeping compartmentB there was outwardly little to show for it. And yet he waY a rich man, and, for the first time in his lifeB independent of the home and estate in Falmouth. HO smiled ruefully. It seemed almost shameful to becomO moderately wealthy merely because he was doing thO one thing he enjoyed?
He frowned, trying to think of something to purchasO if and when they were allowed a stay in port. And thea were well overdue for that. Despite her coppered hullB Sparrow's speed had been reduced by a full knot i[ otherwise perfect sailing conditions by long clingin^ weed which defied the copper and their efforts to movO it. He would buy some wine perhaps. Good wine, noU the bitter-tasting muck which was normally used as thO only alternative for foul drinking water. A dozen shirts o_ more. His mind played with the idea of such luxury. AU the present moment he had only two shirts which woulX bear close inspection?
It might be possible to find a good sworX somewhere. Not like the one which had shattereX aboard the privateer, nor the curved hanger which hO had used since, but something better. Lasting?
He heard footsteps beyond the door and knew iU was Tyrrell. He would have known it even if it had bee[ another time, a different watch. For since bein^ wounded Tyrrell had been unable to rid himself of Z limp and not a little pain?
The first lieutenant had otherwise not changed vera much, he thought. Or maybe the three years had draw[ them so close he had not noticed it. Unlike GravesB who seemed to have withdrawn even further and haX grown noticeably more nervous after each action o_ skirmish. Upon his promotion to captain, Bolitho haX become entitled to an extra lieutenant, and thO appointment fell vacant on the very day the twQ midshipmen went aboard the flagship to sit for thei_ commissions. Heyward had passed with flying coloursB and now, looking back, it was hard to recall him as Z midshipman at all. Bethune had unfortunately failed hiY exams, not once, but three times, and BolithQ repeatedly wondered how best to get rid of him. HO had grown very fond of Bethune, but knew that bein^ retained in Sparrow's confined community was onla
acting against his remaining, if dwindling, chances. HiY navigation was hopeless, his ability to take charge ob the quarterdeck and set the hands to making o_ shortening sail was dismal to behold. As a marinO officer, or even a foot soldier, he would have bee[ adequate. He could obey orders, even if he found theR hard to formulate. Under fire he had shown plenty ob courage, and a boyish stoicism which was rarela matched even by a seasoned sailor. Now, aged twentyB and with no hope of gaining the commission he sQ obviously desired, he stood out like a sore thumb? Heyward had tried to help him, more so than BolithQ had imagined he would. But it was no use. The ship'Y company treated him with cheerful acceptance, as thea would a child. His burden had not been eased by thO appointment of a new midshipman to take Heyward'Y place?
Roger Augustus Fowler, sixteen years of age, anX with the pouting features of a petulant pig, had soo[ learned to add to rather than detract from Bethune'Y misery?
Fowler's arrival had further enlarged the rift betwee[ Bolitho and Colquhoun. The boy was the son of thO admiral's best friend, and so his appointment to this o_ any ship was very close to a royal command. ThO
offspring of some influential person could be a greaU handicap to a young and busy captain, but equally hO could open doors otherwise denied by the chain ob command. Colquhoun had probably seen the boy'Y arrival from England as an opportunity in the latte_ category, and had been outraged when the admiraT had chosen Sparrow rather than his frigate Bacchante?
Fowler had been aboard for eight months and waY not popular. It was nothing you could put a name to? Obedient and attentive in the presence of hiY superiors, he could be equally sharp and sarcastic witN seamen old enough to be his father. He had a way ob shutting off his expression, using his pale eyes anX pouting lips like the extensions of a mask. If he eve_ reached command rank he would be a tyrant to serveB Bolitho thought?
There was a tap at the door and Bolitho swept hiY musings into the background?
Tyrrell limped into the cabin and sat down at thO table. Against his open shirt his skin was burneX almost to mahogany, and his hair had become a shadO lighter under forgotten suns. He pushed thO calculations across the chart and together they lookeX at Sparrow's approximate position?
To the south lay the nearest extensions of thO Bahama Islands, the countless spans of cays anX reefs, treacherous sandbars and islets. Some eighta miles to the west lay the coast of Florida, and to thO east the main routes used by ships going to and frQ from the Indies and New York. It was a veritable warre[ of islands and narrow channels, although to the untrieX eye of a landsman the sea might appear at peaceB broken here and there by restful purple humps of lanX shrouded in low haze. But to the mariner the charU showed much more, and that was less than hO required to know the true margin of safety. ThO occasional dab of white betrayed a reef, the dulle_ patch on the sea's face might represent a cloak ob weed across some vast pinnacle lurking beneath thO surface, the spines of which could tear the keel from Z ship like the string from an orange?
Tyrrell said at length, "I reckon we've lost th' bugger.T
"Maybe." Bolitho opened a drawer in the table anX took out two long clay pipes. Handing one to Tyrrell hO groped for a tobacco bowl and then said, "Is Fawn stilT in sight?T
Tyrrell grinned. "Sure enough. 'Bout three miles to thd
east'rd." He tamped down the tobacco in his pipe anX added, "Our masthead lookout thought he sa/ breakers to th' sou'-west. If so, that would be thO Matanilla Shoal, which fixes our calculations, so tQ speak.T
Bolitho lit his pipe from the hanging smoking-lanter[ and then walked restlessly to the windows. Once nea_ the sill he felt the slow breeze across his face anX chest like air fanned from a blacksmith's forge. Whe[ eventually the wind returned to give life to the sails iU was to be hoped it came from the south-east aY before. It was no time to be driven closer to thosO deadly shoals. But they had to stay near enough to bO able to watch at least three channels while Faw[ patrolled further to the east. For six weeks, in compana with the other sloop, they had been searching for a bi^ blockade runner, a French flute which had bee[ reported out of Martinique and heading north, mosU likely for the enemy base of naval operations i[ Newport, Rhode Island. The information from spies, o_ those merely after recognition or reward, was alwayY open to doubt. But a flute, which was a large man-of1 war with some of her armament removed to facilitatO the fast passage of men or stores, was too importanU to be ignored?
The flotilla's third sloop, Heron, was sweepin^ somewhere to the south, off the Andros Islands, anX Colquhoun's Bacchante had, as far as he knewB remained in more open waters to the west, betwee[ the Bahamas and the American mainland?
Once away from Colquhoun's supervision, BolithQ had taken the sloops to their present position. On thO chart the chance of making contact with a solitara enemy seemed impossible, but he knew by now that ib the sea appeared empty, it was in fact divided intQ channels by sprawling reefs and cays, and was just aY much a hazard to enemy as to friend?
"If we take her, it'll be another feather for us." TyrrelT watched his pipe-smoke drifting through the skylighU above him. "I often wonder if it makes all thaU difference to th' war.T
"It all helps, Jethro.T
Bolitho stud
ied him gravely. How close they haX become. Like the use of first names, the ritual pipe1 smoking for as long as the tobacco stock lasted, it alT seemed to symbolise what the ship had made them?
Time and distance, hours and days spent in evera
sort of condition, they had all left their mark o[ Sparrow's company. Even the necessary changeY brought about by death and injury, transfer anX discharge had seemed unable to break the little ship'Y hold on their destiny. Over a third of the company werO replacements made since he had taken commandB and apart from colonists, included a sprinkling ob Negroes, some merchant seamen pressed from Z home-bound ship, and a solitary Greek who haX deserted his own vessel only to be taken aboard Z French brig as a captive. The brig, seized as a prizO by Sparrow, had yielded several new hands, and thO Greek had proved to be an excellent assistant cook?
"How long will you give her?T
Bolitho considered the question. "Another wee7 maybe. If she doesn't show herself, I think we ca[ assume she's slipped past us, or turned bac7 somewhere. She might have run into one of the patrolY further south.T
"Aye." Tyrrell yawned. "An' then we can get somO time in port.T
Feet pounded overhead and they heard BucklO shout, "Call all hands! Th' wind's a'coming back!T
Then there was a rap on the door and BethunO peered in at them, his round face sweating badly?
"Mr. Buckle's respects, sir. The wind is freshenin^ from the sou'-east. Fawn's tops'ls are already filling.T
"I'll come up." Bolitho waited until the midshipma[ had withdrawn before asking quietly, "What am Ito dQ about him?T
Tyrrell shrugged. "He'll not get promoted unless by Z miracle. Maybe if we put him in charge of our nexU prize?" He shook his head before Bolitho coulX comment. "Almighty God, the lad'd lose his way an' thd prize!T
On deck they found the hands already bein^ mustered while overhead the sails were stirrin^ uneasily, the masthead pendant lifting as the firsU breeze reached it?
"Man th' braces!" Tyrrell strode to the rail anX squinted into the glare. "It'll be up to us soon, lads.T
Bolitho 04 - Sloop of War Page 18