Hostile Shores (6 page)

“A neat trade,” Lewrie groused. “Give up a seventy-four-gunned ship of the line for a lesser ship, but a broad pendant!”

He’s, what, no older than his mid or late thirties?
Lewrie wondered:
That’s awfully young t’get a two-decker, ’less he’s had a lot o’ help up the ladder. Without makin’ a name for himself that any of us ever heard of? Hmmm. There’s
another
reason for me t’dislike him!

“Ehm,
Athenian
is making a hoist, sir,” Midshipman Munsell said as he put the old copy of
Steele’s
back in the flag locker and took notice out-board. “It is … ‘General’ to all ships, and ‘Make More Sail’,” he deduced after a squint with a telescope and a quick referral to the signals book.

“It appears it’ll be a race, Mister Westcott,” Lewrie said.

“One we may lose, sir, given the foul condition of our ‘quick-work’,” Lt. Westcott told him. “Do you wish the stuns’ls rigged?”

Sailing off the wind as
Reliant
was, studding booms could be extended from the course and tops’l yardarms to bare more sail to the following wind, which might gain them a knot or more over the warships of Grierson’s squadron, but …

“It’s not that far to Hog Island and the main channel, Mister Westcott,” Lewrie decided, shaking his head No. “We’d barely get ’em rigged and spread before we’d have t’take ’em in for entering port. I’d admire did you remove the larboard hawse buckler and bend a cable to the best bower, instead. Mister Caldwell? How close may we shave inshore of Hog Island?” he asked puckishly. “Closer to the entrance channel than
those
bastards?”

“Oh, I see what you wish, sir,” Caldwell replied, spreading a grin on his usually stern face. “Do we alter course a point to larboard now, we should have more than sufficient depth.”

Lewrie glanced at the chart which Caldwell showed him, then got his telescope from the binnacle cabinet rack and peered forward. He could see
Firefly,
Lt. Lovett’s little 8-gunned sloop, abeam of the wind as she stood in to the entrance channel. Over the trees of Hog Island, he could make out the peaks of
Thorn
’s and
Lizard
’s masts, for they were already in port and rounding up into the wind to ghost to a stop, drop anchors, and pay off sufficient scope as their crews handed the last scraps of sail.

He did not need the glass to look over towards Grierson’s leading frigates; they were a cable apart in line-ahead, all driving hard with white mustachios under their forefeet and cutwaters, and creamy wakes curling down their sides. But, the leading frigate was abaft of abeam to
Reliant,
and the second and third were off her starboard quarer. Most importantly, they were now at least two cables or better to
seaward
of his frigate!

Lewrie went to the starboard bulwarks and leaned far out for a look overside. He had to shake his head over the thickness and length of the weed strands that fouled
Reliant
’s bottom and waterline. Some broke off as he watched and swirled astern into the wide bridal train of wake, where sea birds by the hundreds swirled and mewed and dove to snag themselves a bite, or scoop up some of the green slime that flaked off in tasty wee morsels.

“Mister Westcott, when we’re near the entrance channel, I wish the ship scandalised … Spanish reefs and Irish pendants … to take the speed off her. Topmen aloft as we do, to take in courses, royals and t’gallants. Prepare a cable to the kedge anchor, as well. We’ll stand in somewhere near our old anchorage, bear up into the wind, then let her fall off Northerly before droppin’ the kedge, then ghost on ’til the kedge bites. We’ll let go the best bower then, and be abeam to the prevailin’ breezes, and won’t swing to impede Commodore Grierson’s squadron when they enter port.”

“And if his lead frigates out-foot us, sir?” Westcott asked with a smirk on his face.

“Then they’ll put on a pretty show for the good folk o’ Nassau,” Lewrie told him. “The main thing about racin’ the other fellow is to know when to slow
down
! We’ll have the centre of the channel and will be the vessel with the right of way.”

“Very well, sir,” Lt. Westcott agreed, chuckling in anticipation. “All will be ready when you order us to alter course.”

Reliant
stood on under full sail, slowly losing the race to the entrance channel to the lead frigate of Grierson’s long column of warships. She was two cables abeam of Lewrie’s frigate as Hog Island receded and the channel began to spread out alee, revealing the town of Nassau. Almost dead-level and still showed no sign that she would reduce sail! Lewrie could see her captain looking aloft, at the channel as it neared, then astern to the flagship, which had yet to signal any change.

“Enough depth for us to alter course, Mister Caldwell?” Lewrie asked.

“Another minute more would suit, sir,” Caldwell told him, busy with his sextant to measure the height of Fort Fincastle and some other prominent sea-marks to judge the distance. “There is nearly the end of Hog Island to larboard, and the channel ’twixt Arawak Cay and Long Cay … ah! I would round up now, sir!”

“Mister Westcott, alter course to larboard!” Lewrie snapped.

Round
Reliant
went, her jib-boom and bowsprit sweeping cross the cays and the town in a thunder of canvas as her courses, main and mizen tops’ls, and t’gallants and royals were reduced of a sudden, drawn up in their centres to leave the outer parts bagged and unable to draw the wind in untidy bat wings, leaving the fore tops’l, jibs, spanker, and stays’ls, the fore-and-aft sails, still standing to keep a way on her as she came about, rapidly shedding speed.

The channel led East-Sou’east, close to the prevailing winds before trending Sutherly into the main harbour inside the shelter of the various cays.

“Sheet home the mizen t’gallant once more, Mister Westcott,” Lewrie ordered. “Let’s keep steerage way on her.” The Quartermaster’s Mates on the helm were making large swings of the wheel to keep her on course. After the mizen t’gallant gained them a bit more wind, he looked at them again. “Better now, Cottle, Malin?”

“Aye, sir, ’at helped,” Cottle replied.

“Lord, he’ll miss the channel!” Midshipman Munsell crowed from right aft. Lewrie turned to watch, gloating to see the lead frigate match his tactic of scandalising his ship, but the second and third in line astern of her were forced to alter course to
seawards
to avoid a collision! They would miss the entrance channel altogether, and have to tack about under reduced sail to regain the entrance! Over the top of the low-lying spur of Hog Island, Lewrie could see
Athenian
and her consort, the other two-decker 64, altering course Northerly in succession to avoid being stacked up atop the three frigates!

“I think you might have just made yourself an enemy, sir,” Lt. Westcott took a brief moment from his harrying duties to mutter.

“I have the feeling that I had, no matter what I did, Mister Westcott,” Lewrie told him, chuckling. “Even did I yield him the entrance first, there’s some people there’s no living with.”

*   *   *

Reliant
was anchored by bow and stern, her squares’ls harbour-gasketed and all fore-and-aft canvas handed and stowed, and the Bosun Mr. Sprague and his Mate, Mr. Wheeler, had rowed round the ship to see the yards squared to mathematical perfection before
Athenian
groped a slow way into port behind her frigates.

The
Reliant
’s musicians were playing “The Bowld Soldier Boy” as the gilt-trimmed red rum cask was fetched on deck for a delayed issue. The hands waiting for their grog raised a cheer as the two 64s rounded up to drop anchor. On the quarterdeck, Lewrie was sprawled in his collapsible wood and canvas deck chair, with both of his cats in his lap, and the ship’s mascot, Bisquit, dancing on his hind legs and barking a welcome of his own.

Lewrie tipped
Athenian
his cocked hat in salute.

It’s the least I can do,
Lewrie thought;
and the least is what I
intend
t’do! Along with gettin’
my
report on Grierson’s wee “joke” to Admiralty,
first
!

CHAPTER SIX

Lewrie had to wait two days before Commodore Grierson thought to summon him for that promised face-to-face meeting to brief the new-come upon the Bahamas, and the vessels and captains Grierson would inherit. The hoist of
Reliant
’s number and “Captain Repair On Board” caught Lewrie in casual clothing, again, in slop-trousers and buckled shoes, a plain coat, and his shirtsleeves as he, the Bosun, the Carpenter, and other petty officers made an inspection of the ship belowdecks. The summons also came after the islands’ Governor-General’s invitation to a welcoming ball ashore. Grierson had said that they would meet “once the social niceties had been held”, so he was obviously wishing to get an onerous chore over with before shining at a grand supper dance, at which he hoped to be regaled.

*   *   *

“Welcome aboard, sir,”
Athenian
’s First Officer, Lt. Hayes, said at the entry-port, once the salutes had been rendered.

“Good morning Lieutenant … ah?” Lewrie responded cheerily; he would not take out his sour mood over meeting with Grierson to extend to others. “I did not get your name, last time I was aboard.”

“Hayes, sir,” the fellow said, “and may I say that it is an honour to make even your slightest acquaintance, Captain Lewrie.”

“I can’t imagine
why,
but thankee, anyway, Mister Hayes,” Lewrie replied with a dis-arming grin and a laugh. “It was kindly said.”

“Why, your repute in the Navy, sir!” Hayes exclaimed. “Your successes.”

“Oh, those,” Lewrie shrugged off. “Uhm, may I ask why you are turned out in your best-dress? And, why does a Commission Officer be on deck in harbour?”

“Oh, that, sir,” Lt. Hayes said, plucking at the snowy lapels of his uniform coat. “It is the Commodore’s standing orders that we be dressed properly, else the hands might get Frenchified egalitarian ideas and breach the difference in class and station, sir. As for being on deck at all, the Commodore sent for me soon after his order was sent to you … so it would not be a mere Midshipman to meet you.”

“Rather hard on the purse, wearin’ yer best kit all the time, and what would ye have left for shore calls? The supper ball tonight, for instance. Ye wear yer best even at sea in gale weather?”

“The Commodore will allow us to dress down, are tarpaulins needed, sir,” Hayes admitted sheepishly. “And, aye, it is hard for some of us to maintain proper appearances, all the time. The wardroom servants are busy, trying to put us right, and repair smudges and stains for the ball.”

“Then I will see you there, Mister Hayes,” Lewrie promised. “I must get aft, I suppose. If you will lead the way?”

Athenian,
like all 64-gun two-deckers, provided ample room aft for a captain’s great-cabins, and more than enough space to accommodate a squadron commodore … if the flag-captain didn’t mind being turfed out and relegated to smaller quarters. Grierson’s great-cabins were as large as Lewrie expected, right under the poop deck, and, without the presence of any upper-deck guns, looked large enough for an indoor tennis court. Not only did Grierson have a lot of “interest” in the Navy; it was obvious that he and his family had a substantial fortune, too, for the dining table would seat twelve round that gleaming cherry wood expanse, and the sideboard groaned under the weight of a palace’s worth of sterling silver services. The same went for the day-cabin, which featured a substantial desk, wine cabinet, and seating arrangements, and none of the articles of furniture the usual collapsible and easily stowable type, either.

The door to the stern gallery was open, as were all the transom windows, to catch a morning breeze. Grierson needed one, for he was tricked out in his usual best, right down to silk stockings and soft slipper-type shoes. This morning, Grierson had at least unbuttoned his expensively gold-laced coat against the heat and humidity.

“Thank you, Hayes, you may go,” Grierson said in an idle, languid voice. He had been standing in the open doorway to the stern gallery, a wine glass in one hand, and the other tucked in the small of his back as if posing, but turned and raised a brow when he saw Lewrie.

“Prompt, I must say, Sir Alan,” Grierson said with a brief hint of a smile as he crossed to his desk and sat himself down in a leather-covered chair. He gestured to another in front of the desk for Lewrie. “Though I do note that you do not think much of dressing properly.”

“I was in the cable tiers, the orlop stowage, and the carpenters’ walks on an inspection when you signalled, sir,” Lewrie told him. “No need for fancy dress there.”

“A glass of something, sir?” Grierson offered. “Some Rhenish?”

“Tea for me, sir,” Lewrie requested, turning to spot one of the cabin servants. “In a tall glass, with lemon and sugar, and let it set to cool, first, if ye will.”

Commodore Grierson gave out a scoffing
harumph
at that request.

“It’s my custom t’have a half-gallon brewed up each day and let cool, sir,” Lewrie explained. “It’s very refreshing in the tropics on warm-ish days. Even better with a sliver of Yankee Doodle ice, when it’s available from an ice-house ashore.”

“What an odd thing to do with tea,” Grierson said, grinning. “Anyway, I suppose that you brought me the outline of the strength of my new squadron, Sir Alan?”

“Of course, sir,” Lewrie said. “Though I must admit that some of the smaller sloops, cutters, and luggers are unfamiliar to me. I’ve never clapped eyes on ’em, nor met their captains, since I’ve spent so little time in port, and a great many of them are off far down the island chain, as far as the Turks and Caicos.”

“Indeed,” Grierson drawled with a dis-believing expression, as if to question his diligence during his temporary command of the Bahamas.

“You may not see many of them ’til they return to Nassau for wood and water, either, sir,” Lewrie explained. “I can vouch for those I’ve worked with, but beyond them…?” he ended with a shrug.