Trident

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by Michael Aye

“It was my understanding Admiral St. John had this station.”

  “He did until last week when he was taken back to England an invalid.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Gabe responded.

  St. John was known to be a voice for the common sailor, always arguing for better pay and better conditions at sea. His departure from the service would set back the cause. Yet new voices had taken up the fight, including that of Vice Admiral Anthony.

  Admiral Buck had not returned to the ship, but Crowe had returned with a note stating that Buck would see Gabe that evening.

  ***

  Believing in punctuality, Gabe stepped through the entry port of Moffit’s flagship, Thunder, at exactly seven p.m. As the shrill of pipes faded, Gabe removed his hat to show respect. Moffit’s flag captain was Charles Abbott. He had made a name for himself as a bold frigate captain.

  Abbott stepped forward and greeted Gabe, “Welcome aboard, sir, I hope you had an uneventful voyage.”

  “A spell of peevish weather, but nothing to speak of,” Gabe replied, shaking his fellow captain’s hand.

  Gabe was introduced to the ship’s officers while the drummers and fifes played a brisk little tune.

  “Captain Anthony…Sir Gabe it is now, I’m told.” Stepping forward, Admiral Moffit shook Gabe’s hand vigorously.

  The trio made their way to the great cabin where Moffit called to a servant to bring a glass of hock for his guest.

  “I saw your brother some weeks back,” Moffit stated. “He told me of your recent exploits and being knighted. Now you are Rupert’s flag captain.”

  “Admiral Buck was most gracious in his offer, sir, greater that I deserve.”

  “I think not,” Moffit stated matter-of-factly. “I will admit being a frigate captain was a happy time for me, but being Lord Anthony’s Flag Captain was also rewarding.”

  Gabe remembered the times and the battle of Nova Scotia when Moffit had been his brother’s flag captain. It had been a hotly contested battle that had been touch and go for a while. The loss of men and destruction of ships had been severely felt. Gabe gave an involuntary shudder as he recalled the fierceness of the battle.

  The dinner was a huge success, with the guests swapping sea stories and embellished stories of derring do. Both Buck and Moffit told of Gabe’s accomplishments with the ladies when he was a young blade.

  By the time the loyal toast had been given that evening, the effects of fresh food and fine spirits had taken their toll on most of the officers. When Admiral Buck finally thanked Admiral Moffit for such a fine feast for all the captains and first lieutenants of his squadron, Gabe was in deep thought. He was wondering how many would make it back to their ships without falling into the warm harbor water. Hex had instructed Crowe on the need for extra precaution after such dinners. However, his admiral had other plans for the evening and had drunk surprisingly little. If he were drenched, it’d likely be in deep passion and not the Caribbean Sea.

  “I shall be ashore tonight,” Buck informed Gabe with a wink just before making his way through the entry port.

  “Old acquaintances renewed?” Gabe asked, knowing the answer before his admiral replied.

  “Aye!” Buck responded. “I will send word tomorrow where we can meet and hopefully have a wet with Commodore Gardner.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lazy clouds floated above a blue sky, occasionally blocking the sun and casting a fleeting shadow over Trident’s deck.

  “It’s like a young lass,” Hayes swore. “Showing just enough of her wares to make you want more, then she moves along, only to return just about the time you’ve got your humours settled down.” The master’s comment caused chuckles from several in close hearing.

  “You’ve ’ad ’perience in ’at area ’as you, Mr. Hayes?” one of the helmsmen asked, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Aye, Rogers. In my day, I had the run of many a young lass.”

  “More like running away,” Lieutenant Davy quipped, ribbing the master.

  “When I was a young buck such as you, Mr. Davy, the lasses fought for the right to be at my table.”

  “’E must of ’ad a bit of prize money don’t you think, Mr. Davy,” the helmsman braved a comment.

  “I’m sure it was all our good master could do to fight off the attentions of many a wench,” Davy joked.

  “Aye,” Hayes agreed. “But there comes a time when you just get too tired to put up much of a fight and you let the poor lasses take their pleasure with you. A man’s job it was at times, I’ll admit,” he said with a sigh. “And not for those with a suspect constitution, as some I know,” Hayes continued, glaring at the helmsman.

  “Well, I’m sure you were a rutting buck in your day,” Davy offered. “However, age takes its toll on all of us at some point.”

  “Nay,” Hayes threw back. “I’m still the cock of the walk.”

  Davy snorted. “You mean to tell me, Mr. Hayes, that you can still do it all night long.”

  “Aye.”

  “Mr. Hayes, I’ve heard some sea stories in my time but…” Davy didn’t finish the sentence; he just shook his head in disbelief.

  “Well, I admit,” Hayes said, “that what I used to do all night now takes all night to do…but they enjoy it just the same.”

  All within hearing burst out in laughter, including Gabe, who’d been standing on the weather side talking with Lieutenant Campbell.

  Shaking his head and smiling, Campbell said, “It’s hard to get the upper hand on the master.”

  “Aye,” Gabe agreed. “I know another from the same mold,” he said, thinking of Bart.

  Clearing his throat to get Gabe’s attention, Campbell made a motion with his eyes alerting his captain of the admiral’s presence.

  “I thought I’d enjoy one of these cigars that Commodore Gardner gave me,” Buck volunteered. “Would you care to join me?”

  “My pleasure, sir,” Gabe answered, falling into step with the admiral as he made his way toward the stern. “The ships of the squadron are all on station, sir, but there’s not another sail on the horizon.”

  Buck bit the tip off his cigar and spit it into the white foamy wake created as Trident cut through the blue Caribbean Sea under a full press of canvas.

  “It was good to see Greta and the Commodore,” Buck said, once his cigar was lit.

  “Aye,” Gabe agreed. “I believe the life as a retired gentleman and planter suits him well.”

  “That and Greta’s cook.” Buck joked.

  “She was imported from South Carolina before the war,” Gabe volunteered. “She cooks a good meal, what Faith says is southern cooking.”

  “Well, whatever it’s called it was a welcome change from Chen Lee’s fare. He is a good cook and servant but rice with every meal gets old.”

  Gabe smiled, “Nesbit said he has tried to make Chen Lee understand that variety is the spice of life.”

  “Aye,” Buck agreed. Taking a puff on the cigar and exhaling a white plume of smoke, he spoke again in a sheepish voice. “I tell you, Gabe, if I could steal away Gardner’s cook I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  The two had been served fried chicken, yams smothered in butter with cinnamon and sugar, creamy white potatoes, carrots, and hot biscuits. For dessert, apple pie was served with a thick cream poured over the pie. A dessert like neither of the officers had ever tasted before. Breakfast the following morning was eggs, more hot biscuits, a local honey, and oatmeal with a choice of butter or cream.

  They had played whist, with Gabe as Greta’s partner. During the card game a number of cigars were smoked and several bottles of wine were consumed, with Greta preferring sherry. Gabe and Greta won most of the hands during the game of cards.

  “Private signals, that’s what it is,” the commodore swore good-naturedly. “By gawd, sir, this young officer has worked out signals to cheat me in my own house with my own wife. Ye gads…I can only guess what else they’ve got schemed up.”

  Greta leaned over and pul
led Gardner to her and with a kiss said in a coy voice, “Makes you wonder, don’t it?”

  Soon the conversation turned to the war, with Gardner saying, “Well, it’s been good for some in the navy…Gil’s a vice admiral, you’re a rear admiral, and Gabe a captain. I remember sitting on his board for lieutenant.”

  “You would have been made a flag as well, had you not retired,” Buck said.

  “Aye, I’ve no doubt, but I’ve no stomach for it. I have too many friends in the Colonies and I’m too much in agreement with their cause to fight my friends.”

  “A great number feel as you do, sir,” Gabe offered.

  “Yes well, those in Parliament that did should have stood their ground and put Lord North in his place.” The commodore continued to rant for some time. Many of his comments could have been considered treasonous.

  Finally, Greta was able to change the conversation. By that time the commodore was much in his cups. When it was time to retire for the evening, Greta winked at Buck and Gabe as she spoke to her husband.

  “Come dear, take me to my bed chamber where you can keep guard over me. My honour must be protected with these randy naval officers in our house.”

  Grinning, Gardner replied after a very unromantic belch. “No worries, my dear, I will be most diligent in my husbandly duties.”

  “Thank you, dear. I understand there is some whose chamber has recently been invaded.”

  “Damn,” Buck swore. “Is nothing kept a secret on this island?”

  “Let’s hope they don’t have a system to spread the word all the way to Barbados,” Gabe said.

  “The only way that information can get to Barbados,” Buck growled, “is if some busybody in whom I’ve put forth my trust was to run his mouth. We don’t know of such a person do we, Captain?”

  “No sir, not that I can think of.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The aromatic smell of tobacco filled the early morning air. Lieutenant Wiley had the deck with Midshipman Sebastian. The group of young gentlemen was a lively lot. More apt to mischief than the usual group, but they were well liked by the crew. More than once Gabe had seen an old hand take time to show one of the mids the proper way of doing things. Thomas was the senior member of the berth. He was ready to take the lieutenant exam.

  “A rare one,” Campbell had said. “No tyrant, mind you, but not one to tolerate sloppy work.”

  Hayes approached Gabe, his pipe in his mouth. A small plume of smoke rose as he took a quick puff before speaking to his captain. “We should make landfall about mid-afternoon if the wind holds.”

  “Aye,” Gabe replied. “I could feel a change in the current this morning at quarters.”

  This comment caused the master to cock his head slightly as he eyed his captain. His respect for the man as a seaman rose a notch. “You are familiar with these waters, I recall,” Hayes volunteered.

  “Most of my days as an officer have been spent in these waters from the West Indies to the southern Colonies, all the way up to Nova Scotia and back. Not much time in the East Indies, however.”

  Gabe’s shirt was already wet with sea spray and sweat and clung to his skin. As Gabe pulled the uncomfortable shirt away from his body, the master noticed and said, “It’ll be a warm one today, I’m thinking. But I’ll take the heat over the damp cold North Atlantic.”

  “You’ve spent time there?” Gabe asked.

  “Aye, Captain, a year in the Baltic. Swore I’d retire before going back. Damn cold near made a cripple out of me. Rheumatism in me knees and hands. Knees popped and crunched so bad I’d have trouble sneaking up on a deaf man.”

  This caused Gabe to chuckle. He’d heard his father and brother make similar comments.

  Seeing the smile on Gabe’s face, Dagan, who’d been standing nearby spoke, “Smile if you like, Gabe, but the day will come when you will remember this conversation.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?” Gabe inquired.

  “Aye, I’m starting to notice an ache on a cold morning. You will too, so pay mind to your elders.”

  Gabe was glad to see Dagan on deck. He had been morose of late, though he did spend time with Gabe and Buck and even played cards with them at times. He’d also spent some time with Hex and Crowe, but he’d not been his usual self. He’s thinking about mother, Gabe thought and had even made a comment to Hex to that effect.

  “Maybe Cap’n, but I would think it’s a woman on your uncle’s mind.”

  So that’s it, Gabe thought, understanding the feelings well.

  ***

  “Land ho!” Excited sailors rushed to the rail to see the distant island, only to be harried back to their duties by the first lieutenant. The island of Barbados was a welcome sight as it sat under the blazing sun.

  Gabe couldn’t help but feel excitement at the thought of seeing Faith and his son. “Mr. Campbell.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “My brother, Lord Anthony, is the commander in chief of this station as you know. He has a sharp eye. I’d not want to embarrass our admiral by a poor showing to Lord Anthony.”

  “Deck thar! Sails to starboard, sir,” the lookout called down interrupting Gabe.

  The ships were not yet visible from the deck, but it did not surprise Gabe. It was likely some of his brother’s ships returning from patrol. No doubt, a ship would be sent to investigate if the appropriate signals were not given, even if the ship was recognized. All ships stood the possibility of being captured and used to gain advantage for the enemy. The squadron lay on a port tack and made their final leg into Carlisle Bay. Most of the midshipmen suddenly found a need to go aloft. Gabe watched as they made their way up the shrouds.

  Everything was different in the West Indies. The sun was brighter, the beaches whiter, and the vegetation was thick and green.

  “Deck thar! Ships at anchor, one is a flagship, sir…vice admiral’s flag flying, sir.”

  “Ready to wear ship, sir,” Hayes said, interrupting Gabe’s thoughts.

  Gabe gave a nod to Hayes. The sails were clewed up.

  “Stand by to fire the salute, please.”

  “Aye,” the gunner acknowledged.

  “My glass if you please,” Gabe said to Hex. Focusing in on the flagship, Gabe could see his brother never changed when it came to thinking of his men. The gun ports were open to take advantage of any off-shore breeze. An awning was stretched across the wide quarterdeck.

  “Do you see Lord Anthony, Gabe?” Buck had approached and if Gabe had been warned his mind had been elsewhere. Seeing the look on Hex’s face, he realized he had been warned but not heard.

  ***

  Lord Anthony was on the deck of his flagship watching the approaching ships of Buck’s squadron and the few remaining convoy ships make their approach.

  “Makes a fine sight does it not, sir?”

  “What would you expect, Bart?”

  “I ’spect he’d better do it right or I’d give ’em a taste of me boot. And that’s no error,” the cox’n replied.

  The salute began and echoed across the bay.

  “Captain Earl.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “Let’s not let Gabe and Admiral Buck outshine us. Return the salute if you please.”

  ***

  On board Trident, Buck spoke. “I’ll leave you to your ship, Captain, while I go change and get ready to meet with Lord Anthony. As soon as you feel all is secure, Gabe, feel free to go ashore. If you are needed before the morrow I will send word.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Gabe replied.

  Humph, Dagan thought. I’d not get between Gabe and the entry port. Not unless I wanted to take a swim, that is.

  “Tops’l sheets, clew up. Ready, Captain?” Campbell inquired. Gabe nodded his acknowledgement.

  “Helm a’lee,” the first lieutenant ordered.

  Glancing forward, Gabe could see Lieutenant Davy. That was another one who would be glad to go ashore. Gabe had started to speak to the first lieutenant but didn’t wa
nt Campbell to feel obligated because the captain had said something. He had told the first lieutenant the hands would be allowed ashore watch-by-watch once the ship had been properly anchored and everything secured. Campbell had nodded his approval.

  Gabe watched as the wheel was put over and the ship began to turn as the rudder gripped, swinging the bow as Trident turned into the wind.

  “Handles like a frigate,” the first lieutenant swore proudly.

  “Let go the anchor,” Gabe ordered, and an immediate splash was heard, along with the rattle of chains.

  Buck then appeared in his shiny new admiral’s uniform. “Call away my launch if you please, Mr. Wiley.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  “Gabe.”

  “Sir.”

  “I’m sure it would not be amiss if you were to accompany me to the flagship.”

  “Let me get my coat, sir.” Gabe already had his dress uniform on except for the coat. He had avoided that until the last minute.

  “Here, sir.” Hex held his coat ready for him. Crowe must have made the cox’n aware the captain would be invited.

  “Thank you, Hex.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Dagan was also turned out in his best, ready to accompany Buck and Gabe to the flagship. Gabe turned toward the entry port then stopped and spoke again. “You may go ashore, Jake, and I’ll expect you at my house later.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Lucky bloke, bloody pet is what ’e is,” one of the newer hands spoke.

  “The cap’n is a gentleman, you sod,” one of Peregrine’s old hands replied. “Hex saved the cap’n’s life once. The cap’n ain’t one to forget, not this ’un, he ain’t.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Gabe crushed Faith to his chest as they embraced. He’d never been immune to her beauty. The nearness of her body to him made him groan as the pent-up desire for this woman he loved so was on the verge of exploding. Faith pushed her slender body close to her daring sea captain as Gabe lowered his lips to hers for a long passionate kiss. He was intoxicated with her fresh woman’s scent. He could smell her sweet breath as her fiery, hot lips responded to his. He’d not forgotten how good she tasted. He’d also not forgotten how she had made love to him just before he’d set sail for England. The memory had been burned into his mind just waiting for the time he’d be with her again.

 

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