Mullins shook his head, “Sir, unless the lad is uncommonly seasoned, I would just as soon not. These young snotties are often more trouble than they are worth, at least until they get a few cruises under their belts. What I would be uncommonly grateful for though, would be some able seamen. We had some losses during the recent action, and Athena could really use six more hands.”
Dacres shook his head. “I am afraid that will be on Admiral Cochrane’s plate, giving you more hands. Although, I do have some men the Marines are watching for me that I could furnish.”
Mullins replied, “Gaolbirds are another form of life that are too much trouble. I received my share of them back home. I prefer that I have no more.”
Dacres nodded, “Suit yourself then, Captain. Though I must say these are not exactly the type of fowl of which you are thinking. One of my gun brigs brought in a prize last month, a French merchantman. A curious thing, many of her crew were black slaves. Apparently, her owners were unable to find proper seamen to crew her, so used black slaves to do the work instead.”
“I find myself in a dilemma. I find it difficult to consign them to a prison hulk as captured enemy seamen. After all, being slaves, they had no say in their actions. I could just send them to the slave auction, but I do not care for that idea either. If I could find a captain who would take them on board his ship, they would then, by law, become free and all difficulties would be ended.”
“Sir”, Mullins wondered. “You mentioned these black men were seamen. Would you reckon them to meet the Navy’s standards?”
“As to that I could not say. I would imagine though; you have yourself taken men on board with absolutely no knowledge of the sea.”
Mullins agreed. “Sir, you are most certainly correct. I would be glad to take your black seamen aboard.”
“So be it, Captain Mullins. If I were you though, I would not let them go ashore in this part of the world. Some planter would have them in irons in a flash and your seamen would find themselves back to cutting sugar cane.”
With the new hands on board, Athena set sail, Mister Cartwright setting their course for English Harbor on Antigua. Most of the Leeward Island squadron would likely be there or close by. It was upwind and up current to reach Antigua, but Mullins was in no hurry. He decided he was liable to have his ears roasted for following orders and crossing the sea. The new hands were working out well, though. They seemed happy enough at their change in fortune.
A French speaker back in Kingstown had informed the former slaves that as British seamen they were now free and would never have to serve another slave master again.
They found their food better and more plentiful than the slave rations to which they were familiar. Additionally, the clothing they received from the purser was much better than the cast-off rags they wore when they came to the ship.
None of them spoke English initially, but most were skilled seamen and understood many of their shipboard duties. They would rapidly learn English, if Mullins was any judge.
Athena swung around her anchor for the next month. Despite frequent inquiries, neither Admiral Cochrane nor any of his staff gave any indication of their future. Sailing Master Cartwright, grumbling to Captain Mullins on the quarterdeck one dark night wondered why it had even been necessary for them to leave Jamaica and sail to Antigua in such a hell-fired hurry if all they were going to do was sit in the harbor and wait to go aground on their own beef bones.
Mullins actually had the same opinion, but as captain and a commissioned officer, it would not do for him to cast doubts on their admiral’s wisdom. It was with some surprise however, when a lighter delivering some casks of fresh water also brought a note from shore and one of its hands delivered it to the master’s mate of the harbor watch.
When the note was opened, Captain Mullins learned he was directed to call on the flag captain for instructions. As soon as his servant could give him a quick shave and sponge down his best coat, Mullins boarded his gig and was pulled over to the flag.
Greeted there by the flag’s first lieutenant, he was escorted to Captain Borden’s quarters and invited inside.
Borden offered him some Spanish brandy recently taken by one of the squadron’s frigates and his servant brought bowls of island fruit for them to savor. The flag-captain explained the delay.
“There was some question of why you went to Jamaica Station before reporting here. Then Admiral Cochrane learned you had done Admiral Dacres some service before coming here. Sir Alexander was unsure whether all this was a deliberate slight or perhaps merely some of the normal confusion we find in the Royal Navy.”
A pause in the conversation then made Captain Mullins realize he should offer some explanation. He did so, explaining his Admiralty orders to report to Admiral Cochrane off Ferrol, finding the admiral was at sea pursuing Spanish warships, then ordered by the senior captain on the Ferrol blockade to follow the admiral, even if it meant crossing the Atlantic.
Continuing, he reported obtaining intelligence on possible locations of the two line-of-battleships Admiral Cochrane had been pursuing and following them to San Juan, where they were finally located. He explained he had reported the Spaniards’ presence to Admiral Dacres on Jamaica Station, not realizing his actions might be misunderstood.
Captain Border said, “You may be interested to hear that Sir Alexander pursued the Spanish warships for only a few days before returning to port and finding you had been sent on a wild goose chase. Well, all’s well that ends well. You found them and they have been neutralized.”
“Another matter is of concern at the moment. As you know, most of our shipments to Britain sail in convoy and are under escort. Locally though, many of our planters must deliver their produce to the major shipping ports in unguarded small craft. These craft are at the mercy of swarms of pirates and privateers. Many of these operate from what are little more than large rowing boats, packed full of men, waiting for a victim to sail past their hidden cove.”
“Admiral Cochrane’s frigates have done an exemplary business of neutralizing the larger raiders, but these small fry have become a nuisance. The frigates find it difficult to navigate in the shallow waters frequented by many of these pirates. The hope is, your ship with its shallower draft, may be able to trap a few of these brigands.”
Mullins, happy enough to get his ship back out to sea, asked when he might receive his sailing orders. Border answered by informing his clerk was ready at this moment to draft the orders. “Tell me when your ship will be ready to sail and the orders will be in your hand shortly.”
HMS Athena was ready to sail. During their stay in harbor, Mullins had kept the crew busy, and little needed to be done at this last moment. The mail bag was sent ashore and some last-minute purchases of cabin and wardroom stores were all that were necessary.
Mister Cartwright saw to getting Athena out to sea, while Mullins sat on the quarterdeck in the folding chair the carpenter had built for him, looking through the papers sent aboard just before sailing.
Athena had no difficulty making it out of the crowded port. One of the papers Mullins was reading detailed the probable locations of attacks on merchant shipping in the Leeward Islands. Little was known certainly, since none of the missing ships was ever seen again. However, an inter-island schooner Athena encountered, reported being chased by two large boats off St. Kits. The winds had died and the schooner was becalmed. The large rowing boats approaching her were jammed with armed men. Shortly before reaching the schooner though, the wind picked up and the schooner was able to sail away. The boats themselves followed under sail for a period, but were not able to close.
Athena sailed in company with the schooner back to Antigua, then resumed her patrol. No suspicious vessels were sighted and the ship’s officers devoted much of their time into training their men. One of the familiar sights on Athena’s deck was Lieutenant Sawyer’s Marines. They had progressed from the clumsy recruits, fresh from the barracks when they had originally come on board, into what now
appeared to be professional fighting men.
Sawyer’s main complaint was the lack of terrain where he could take his men on long marches to harden their bodies. Of course, his men took part in most of the normal ship-board labor, along with the seamen. They were fit enough from this work, but they were unable to undergo any of the long marches that their Marine officer wished.
This familiar subject was revisited one afternoon, when the wardroom was hosting their captain at dinner. Mister Cartwright remarked an island close by was uninhabited, but offered a fine beach much of the way around the key. With the islet almost five miles in length, Cartwright thought it would prove to be an excellent training ground for the Marines. Mullins was interested, but feared that Admiral Cochrane might misunderstand their motive in landing on the island. After all, their mission was hunting down pirates, not disporting on sandy beaches.
Cartwright was ready for this argument. “Sir, I could remind you that in this heat we have been going through our water and will soon need to get a resupply. I have never visited this island, but my chart tells me there is a source of fresh water near its center. There are also wild hogs, if anyone here might wish to bag a few to supply fresh meat for the crew.”
This information was something for Mullins to consider. If there was the opportunity to water the ship as well as obtain fresh meat, they could perhaps remain at sea for weeks longer than planned. He gave his tentative approval for the visit. The search for pirates could just as well take them to this key as anywhere else. If they could water ship, obtain meat and provide the Marines with a little training, so much the better.
Mister Cartwright was unsure of the proper name for this islet. Previous visitors had claimed it for France, the Netherlands and Spain, each giving the island a different name. Cartwright’s copy of a century-old Dutch chart had no name at all. When the ship came to anchor in a sheltered cove on the lee side of the island, the place presented almost a fascinating sight for the members of the crew that wished to set foot on solid land.
Normally, Captain Mullins would have to be wary of sending men on shore, knowing that many would desert, given a slight chance. Having men run on this island did not seem likely though. Aside from the shortage of water, save for a freshwater spring coming from the side of an old volcanic vent and a few tiny streams that mostly disappeared before reaching the sea, one had to consider food.
There was little to eat on this island save for the ubiquitous feral pigs, which a deserting seaman might find difficult to collect without firearms.
The ship was moored fore and aft in the cove, and the longboat fitted with a boat carronade, rigged for sail and sent to cruise offshore to bring warning of anyone seeking to come to their party. The crew was hard at work bringing empty water casks from below and lowering them over the side. Once in the water, the floating barrels were fastened to a line, which would be drawn ashore by a ship’s boat. The Marine officer had gone ashore earlier with his sergeant and a few Marines to search possible locations of water.
A credible one was right off the beach of their little cove. Much of the island had been denuded of its vegetation by the pigs and goats introduced to this island years ago. A few hardy trees though, marked the underground course of a stream running down from the central peak to this bay. One of the Marines had discovered the tiny rill of water emerging from the rocky soil into the fine sand of the beach.
Mullins, upon coming ashore, was dubious about obtaining any meaningful amount of water from this source, but seamen with shovels began scraping away the soil. A steady if slow trickle was discovered a few feet down in the soil. After a sizeable catchment was dug out, the hole began very slowly filling with water. Brown and muddy, it did not appear promising, but it was decided to leave it until later.
Chapter Seventeen
Captain Mullins noticed Lieutenant Sawyer standing near the newly dug hole in the ground. A half dozen of his Marines, resplendent in their uniforms stood guard. Normally Sawyer carried no arms save for his sword, but this time he held one of the long rifles acquired when they took those pirates the year before off the East Coast of the United States.
At the time there had been a half dozen of the rifles for which Mullins had made Sawyer responsible. He had supposed the arms had been turned in when the ship went into the dockyard for repair. Yet, here was one of them, at least. Curious, he asked Sawyer about their disposition. The surprised officer said, “Captain, they have been aboard Athena since we sailed. The armorer has been keeping them clean and in good repair.”
Mullins wondered, “I would have thought to see your men out practicing with them.”
“Sir, in our crew on the earlier commission, I had some good men who could be trained to use the weapons. The men I have now can barely use their muskets.”
Continuing to observe the water seeping into the excavation, Mullins said, “Would you suppose you could train some of our seamen? It might be a fine idea if we had six men on the ship trained to fire the weapons.”
By the next day, the water in the excavation had cleared and the bosun detailed men to fill barrels and float them to the ship. Fresh water, being lighter than salt, would float even when in the barrel, so the casks were fastened to a line and pulled out to the ship in the same manner as the empty casks had been brought ashore.
Mister Lasher had to tell his captain work on filling the casks would need to proceed slowly since the water in the catchment was easily contaminated by the fine mud particles that had settled out over the night.
While waiting for the hands to fill more barrels, Mullins ordered Sawyer to take the chance to drill his men as he wished while he would take a few of the youngsters out for a pig and goat hunt. Mister Howard would remain in command while Mullins was absent. Should any unusual activity become apparent, a gun would be fired to warn the shore party. With the ship in good hands, Mullins ordered his three midshipmen remaining into the boat. The three mids had surprised him with their progress since they had come aboard well over a year ago. All were proficient enough in their duties, but Hardesty seemed to be the natural leader of the group.
The gig’s crew pulled the boat ashore, where Mister Sawyer reported to his captain. His Marines, save for a few he was leaving behind for guard duty, were wearing their red coats. He pointed to the four long rifles leaning against a water cask.
“Sir, I am leaving these rifles for your pig hunt. There should be enough ammunition for the mids to get some practice first.
Mullins took the midshipmen to a grove of trees growing near the underground stream. Goats and pigs had destroyed much of the native vegetation, but these had survived. An hour of target practice gave the youths enough knowledge to load and fire the weapons. Surprisingly, Mister Gregor, a lad Mullins had thought to have few qualities that would make him a naval leader, was the best marksman in the group. Even Mister Hardesty, the lad Mullins thought would excel in this activity, was a poor second. Mister Connor, unable to learn to use his sights properly, was relegated to the task of carrying the ammunition pouches and water bottles.
Gregor carried Connor’s rifle as well as his own. Captain Mullins had little expectation of being successful in their hunt. There was little or no cover where they might find game and the lads, unused to this type of activity, were visibly tiring.
Coming to a pile of large boulders near the foot of the central peak, the party stopped. Mullins was about to tell his charges it was time to return to the beach when a stone, thrown into the rock pile by Mister Connor, elicited a chattering sound, which Connor remarked sounded like his father’s boar when he was angry.
Then, a shape suddenly came from behind a rock and began speeding across the flat ground. Startled, Mullins brought up the rifle he had been carrying and pulled back the cock. The long, heavy barrel seemed to hang on the speeding target and he squeezed off the shot. Mullins was as surprised as any of the others when the young pig piled up in a somersault.
Before there was a chance to examine the priz
e though, another animal burst out of the rocks. This was an angry, fully-grown boar and he was headed right for the group. His rifle empty, Mullins could only stand and observe. Hardesty was the first to fire. His ball struck the animal’s shoulder but that only served to further enrage the oncoming animal.
Gregor was next. His ball struck the animal’s forehead but the projectile merely glanced off the heavy bone without slowing the beast. Somehow, the youth snatched up Connor’s rifle that he had leaned against a rock and fired again at the boar, at little more than arms-length distance. This ball entered the animals open mouth and into its brain, killing him instantly, although not before smashing into Gregor, giving the youth a vicious slash on his torso with his imposing tusks.
With the lad bleeding badly, shirts were bundled and bound to his wounds. The biggest man present, Mullins got the boy on his back and carried him back to the beach, while leaving the midshipmen to dress out their game.
During the final leg of the trip back to the beach, Mullins now tiring rapidly, thought it might be a waste having the lads dress out that boar. It would likely be almost too tough to be edible. However, all things come to an end. His men on the beach saw him staggering across the flat ground with his burden and suddenly he had all the help he could need.
Back on the ship, Mister Gregor, conscious now and in the care of the surgeon, was reported to be probably out of danger. Mullins had always had the greatest respect for Mister Burns and addressed him as ‘Doctor”, even though he was only a surgeon and not entitled to the honorific.
When asked what he could do for the lad, Burns assured him a generous portion of roast fresh pork from the young sow Mullins had shot would help the boy replenish his blood supply, as would a plentiful supply of port wine.
Everyone on the ship knew that both the gunroom and wardroom were completely out of port. The only supply on the ship was in the captain’s stores. For the next week, until the surgeon reported Gregor out of danger, the young midshipman was continually tipsy from all of Captain Mullin’s wine that he was ordered to drink.
HMS Athena: A Charles Mullins novel (Sea Command Book 4) Page 11