In Dangerous Company: The Dorset Boy Book 4

by Christopher C Tubbs

  “The sapphires are from Ceylon the Rubies are from India.” Caroline replied. “I want you to have them as my Christmas present to you.”

  “But,” Julia started to object.

  “But nothing.” Caroline interrupted. “If it wasn’t for you in the time I was married to Wilfred, I would have gone mad. Now I have a chance to do something nice for you.”

  “Oh Caroline! Just seeing you so happy with Martin is enough,” she looked at the sparkling gems in her hand. “but thank you, they are truly wonderful.”

  “Get them made into something you will wear often to remind you of me.” Caroline said and hugged her.

  Boxing day Marty and Caroline were left to themselves in the house. All the servants had been loaded up with the leftover food from the feast the day before and went home to their families. What was left after that was picked up by the local vicar and his wife to be distributed to the poor. Marty hated waste and had a conscience due to his background.

  They took a cab to the dock and visited The Tempest. Marty dressed as his alter ego and Caroline chose a simple dress that could have been worn by any woman with a moderately wealthy husband. Blaez tagged along, he needed the exercise as the children had slipped him a huge quantity of titbits during dinner the day before.

  Marty was half expecting the ship to be a drunken mess but to his surprise the ship was disciplined and relatively sober. He heard a voice say “Be that is missus? Blimey I would stay at home for ever if she were mine!” Which made him smile and also wonder why he wandered. Caroline won the hearts of every man she met. She emphasised her native Sheffield accent and flirted outrageously, playing the pirate’s doxy for all it was worth but retaining a certain level of class at the same time.

  There were about ninety men onboard and another thirty due to join in the new year. Tom thought that word of the Christmas feast would get around and men would think that Marty was a generous captain and want to be on his crew, and he shouldn’t worry they would have a full crew when they sailed.

  Marty had paid a visit to a talented wood carver by the name of John Seaton and commissioned a new figurehead which he had mounted while they were there. It was a demonic looking bust depicting a male head with wild hair, pursed lips and puffed cheeks like it was blowing a gale. When it was mounted it did, he thought, look quite savage. The men loved it.

  At the end of January, a pair of barges pulled into the dock and Fletcher delivered the cannon and other weapons that Marty had ordered. The powder was waiting at a secluded dock further down river as the city, understandably, didn’t approve of explosives being loaded in the port of London.

  They were almost there, as by then, they had one hundred and forty-two crew signed on and were in the luxury position of being able to cherry pick the last few. Marty planned to sail in the first week of March after his birthday. He would be twenty-three years old.

  He called a meeting of the officers.

  “We will sail on the second of March. The ship needs to be provisioned for three months. If we get lucky and we make a fast crossing, we should be at English Harbour to recruit our extra hands and re-provision by mid-April. The new water casks are the only thing we are waiting for and will be here next week so I think we can make that comfortably. We will warp out of here and down to the dock to load our powder in two weeks, once that’s aboard I want us to sail down the Thames and make a shakedown cruise to settle the crew in.” He looked at Shelby and James. “Where are we now with the crew?”

  “We have a full complement of topmen, the landlord of that pub down by India dock sent a message that an Indiaman was decommissioning, and we managed to pick up most of her crew before they were snapped up by anyone else. We could still do with a dozen more landsmen, especially some for the afterguard.” James reported.

  “The health of the recruits is generally good, especially those who are experienced sailors. I had to reject a number who had hernias or were pox ridden. There are a number who are generally healthy but underfed, those I have onboard on special diets to build them up.” Shelby informed them.

  Marty was surprised and somewhat gratified by that and was quietly very pleased he had found Shelby, who continued, “I have ensured that we will have an ample supply of lemon and lime juice onboard and insist that all the men get a portion of one or the other with their rum ration. This will prevent scurvy and reduce other common complaints.”

  He looked at the Purser who nodded then at Marty and asked. “I see that you are feeding the men lots of fresh vegetables while we are in port. How long does that continue once we are at sea?”

  “We generally run out of fresh food after three weeks. The larger livestock will all have been eaten by then so the crew will be fed salt beef and pork with dried peas and ships biscuit. The officers will eat whatever they have in their personal stores until they run out and then be eating the same food as the men. We will restock with fresh vegetables, fruit, water and livestock every time we enter port if we can,” Marty explained.

  Shelby nodded and made some notes in his ever-present notebook.

  At the end of the meeting Marty was presented with inventories and lists of all the stores that had been delivered so far and he settled down with the Purser to enter it all into the ship’s books.

  Chapter 21 Shake down

  Two weeks later, with a complement of one hundred and seventy-five, they warped out of the dock and on to the Thames proper. The time came to make their way down stream on the ebb tide and with a light Southwest breeze they set sail. Marty was thankful that the master, Arnold Greys, they had picked up from the Indiaman was experienced in navigating the river, because it frankly terrified him. There were mudbanks aplenty to trap the unwary and the Thames barges were not often inclined to give way to a private ship. The river was as twisty as a snake in heat and the crew were kept busy setting the sales over and over again.

  They made the dock where they would load their powder. Fletcher was waiting for them and came aboard as soon as they docked and asked to speak to Marty in private.

  “What can I do for you Mr Fletcher,” Marty asked as they settled down over a glass of Madeira.

  “I have to ask a favour of you Martin, if I may,” Fletcher replied. “I find that I need to, shall we say, absent myself from these shores for a while due to a certain misunderstanding with some, ahh, gentlemen who I have done some business with.” He looked uncomfortable and embarrassed as he said it and somewhat desperate.

  “A deal gone wrong?” Marty asked and held up his hand to forestall any answer. “No matter I don’t need or want to know, but luckily for you I need a man who can value goods and help negotiate a good price on their disposal, keep track of the ship’s provisions and keep the books. I think that would suit you well.” He smiled his wolf smile.

  Fletcher knew when he was in no position to negotiate, the ‘gentlemen’ he had upset were quite capable of ending his life and he was not yet ready to leave this mortal coil.

  “Agreed. Anything else?”

  Marty laughed and said.

  “No, I won’t take advantage of you as you dealt fairly with me. You will be a member of the crew this way not a passenger and if there is prize money will get a share of it.”

  That made all the difference to Fletcher as he had expected to have to pay his way. He knew that Marty was doing him a favour and he wouldn’t forget it. He held out his hand and said.

  “Thank you, Martin. My name is Jonathan by the way.”

  Marty shook it and said, “You call me skipper in front of the men, Tom is my number two and you will take orders from him and James whenever they are on watch. You will have a separate cabin on the Orlop deck and not be expected to take part in the sailing of the ship. If we get into a fight, you can help the surgeon or stay in your cabin as you wish. If you have baggage to bring aboard tell Tom and he will get it on as soon as the powder is loaded.”

  Fletcher thanked him again and left the cabin. ‘Well that was unexpected,’ Marty
thought ‘but probably a blessing in disguise. At least I won’t have to do the damn books myself now.’ With that he went up on deck whistling a merry shanty.

  The loading of the powder was completed, and they set sail for the run out of the Wash. They sailed due East to get out into the middle of the Channel and then turned Southwest to take them through the gap between Dover and Calais. He wanted to get them out onto open water before he started pushing the boat and its crew. There was just too much traffic to be playing.

  A turn to the west took them along the South coast of England. He resisted the temptation to call in at Poole but instead made for the Lizard. There he would take them out into the Atlantic where he would have the sea room he required.

  The weather was, to say the least, brisk with a moderately strong wind and rolling waves coming from the west. He ordered a series of sail evolutions and had them repeated them until he was happy. Then he started them on bringing down the top masts and yards and sending them back up again.

  In between he exercised the guns. He had a gunner who claimed to be experienced but after a disastrous exercise, where it was apparent that none of the cartridge that were brought up from the magazine were the same size, that was sent into doubt. He had him brought in front of him and examined his knowledge in an extensive interview. To say the least, the man was found wanting and was immediately relegated to the landsmen, to be put ashore at the earliest opportunity.

  He now had a problem; he needed a good gunner and they were as rare as hen’s teeth. John Smith stood in and did a better job than the former incumbent but that was not a long-term solution as he wanted John as Quartermaster.

  Marty decided he would call in at Falmouth and see if he could find anyone there. They dropped anchor in the bay and Marty and James went ashore. They wandered into the town and picked a pub which looked like it was frequented by salts. Marty had a word with the landlord and then stood in front of the fireplace.

  “Ahoy there!” he bellowed above the noise of laughter and chatter, and once it died down, he announced.

  “I have need of a gunner for my ‘private’ ship The Tempest. We are bound for the Caribbean under a letter of marque. If you are qualified or you know anyone who is then let me know. There is money in it for the man who gets me the right man.” He flipped a golden guinea in the air at that point then walked back to the bar and picked up his tankard of ale.

  After around twenty minutes there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around ready to defend himself but found himself face to face with one of the ugliest men he had ever seen. He was short and had a misshapen face to the extent that one eye was slightly higher than the other and his head looked as if it was somehow twisted. He had huge shoulders, long arms, out of proportion to his body, short legs and a hint of a hump on his back.

  “I am a qualified gunner,” he said in a surprisingly refined voice. “My friend here has told me you are looking for one,” There was a man stood behind him who was watching and listening anxiously, “but if I go, he comes with me.”

  Marty looked from one to the other and understood, but as long as it stayed between them, he didn’t give a damn.

  “We can accommodate that,” Marty said. “but first let’s see if you really do have what I want.,

  He led them over to an empty table and proceeded to interview the man thoroughly. It turns out his name was Ian Wolverton and he was the son of a squire. His father had all but rejected him because of his deformities but his mother made sure he had an education and he joined the Navy as a teenager. He discovered a love for gunnery and proved himself worthy of being rated gunner, but with the peace he was put ashore when his ship was decommissioned, and no further places were offered.

  He knew his gunnery and answered all Marty’s questions easily and with confidence. His companion, Jonathan Moore didn’t say anything until Marty asked him what his rating was.

  “Gunner’s Mate.” ‘Appropriate that,’ Marty thought.

  The two of them met them at the dock in the morning and Marty signalled for his boat to come over and pick them up. Wolverton was agile despite his deformities and entered the boat without any assistance from Moore. When he boarded, he went up the side easily and when he got to the deck stood glaring at the crew daring them to make a comment.

  “Be that you Ian?” came a lone voice and one of the Bosun’s Mates stepped forward. “Well I’m damned if it aint!” The two men clasped forearms and slapped each other on the shoulder.

  The Mate looked around the deck and said in a loud voice.

  “This be my mate Gunner Wolverton. We sailed together on the old Bedford and he be a damn fine Gunner and saw action with me at the Saints,” and that was that.

  They anchored in The Downs. Marty didn’t want to do anything that could associate the S.O.F. with The Tempest and James and Tom had suggested they lay up there as it was least conspicuous. He was surprised when The Lark approached them and tied up on their starboard side. A look over the side revealed that Armand, Susie and their baby were on board with a smiling Caroline, Beth and James. He immediately ordered a sling rigged and turned to see a grinning Tom already swinging a bosun’s chair over the side. He had the feeling he had been set up.

  Several packages were slung on board as well as enough beer for the crew to have a wet. Marty was puzzled then realised it was the twenty eighth of February, his birthday! Roland du Demaine was another passenger and he headed straight for the kitchens once he had greeted Marty French style with a kiss on both cheeks.

  Down in his cabin Armand informed him the Roland would be staying as his birthday gift to him. He had heard that their cook was more of the Navy breed, more suited to catering for the crew than a captain and Roland was volunteered. Roland didn’t mind at all he was bored with life at the farm, especially as Armand mostly ate with his family these days.

  Soon delicious smells were emanating from the galley, the beer kegs were broached, and the crew filed past to get a tankard full. Down in his cabin a party was started. Blaez was keeping the children occupied playing tug and keeping young Beth from wandering off. The adults drank and ate the wonderful meal Roland prepared. They had fresh mussels cooked in wine and garlic, followed by venison, that Roland had slow cooked in red wine back at the farm and finished in the galley. That was followed by a creation Rolland called Crème Brûlée which was a baked custard with sugar burnt on top by a hot iron, so it had melted and gone crisp.

  After they had finished eating, and the men were passing the port, Beth came to Marty and held out a neatly wrapped package to him. She was very serious and said “Wappy birday daddy” and when he took it grinned from ear to ear. He carefully opened it and inside, in a silver gilt frame was perfect portrait of his children. When she saw the smile on his face Beth crowed in delight and jumped up and down in a little dance that made him grab her and cover her face in kisses, which just made her giggle all the more. He also gathered up young James and was about to do the same for him when he saw his face was covered in jelly and cream. He settled for a hug and gave him back to Blaez to look after.

  Once he had thanked the children properly, Caroline handed him a present from her. It was a much smaller box and he opened it very carefully. Inside nestled on a bed of silk was a beautiful, gold, double hunter pocket watch and chain made by Breguet. Not only was it beautiful but Breguet’s watches were the most accurate of the time and would aid him in his navigation. Inside the rear case was an inscription.

  From loves first kiss

  You were my hero

  Caroline

  There was a button hole bar in the middle of the chain and on the other end to the watch was a locket with, in one side a miniature of her and a lock of her hair under glass in the other.

  Marty took her in his arms and kissed her and when they disentangled, to cheers from the rest of the party, she put the watch in his right waistcoat pocket, the locket in the left and hooked the bar through a buttonhole at the appropriate height.

 
; Chapter 22 First Blood

  The next morning as the tide turned, The Tempest made her way out to sea and headed west to be able to make a southing to clear Ushant. She sailed well, Marty thought as they passed The Needles and the Isle of Wight. He wanted to get up to around Falmouth and preferable Penzance, before they turned south.

  They made the turn the next day at around eleven o’clock and had a fair wind. Marty had them run through several sail evolutions for an hour and then practice with the guns. At one o’clock they stopped for the crew to have their midday meal. Roland was not only cooking for him but was supervising the cook for the men’s meals, which ultimately meant the food was tastier and more nutritious than the standard fare.

  He ran more sail evolutions in the afternoon and was pleased that the men were starting to work more as a team. The evolutions were beginning to run smoother and with less confusion, there were no injuries to speak of, so he invited Shelby to dine with him that evening along with James.

  After the first course of a fine fish soup, Roland had lines run from the stern and had ship’s boys manning them to trawl for fish, they settled down to a dish of beef in a wine sauce with small onions in it. Shelby looked up from his plate and asked.

  “Well we are certainly out to sea now so will you tell me why we are here Milord?”

  “One thing first, please don’t call me that again, even in private.” Marty cautioned him.

  Shelby nodded and muttered an apology.

  “The British holdings in the Caribbean have reported an upsurge in piracy from French and American ‘privateers’ and have reported that they believe that the Spanish may also be joining in.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be at peace with them?” asked Shelby.

  “Technically yes, but they have a rich tradition of piracy so if any of their ships are involved, they will not be carrying letters of marque.”