"Coffee, sir," Dawkins stood by the table where Gabe sat, "Sip careful, sir, its still ’ot." Dawkins had been told of the events at the tavern by Dagan as the two had smoked their pipes last evening. The mental picture kept coming to the old man's mind and he found himself chuckling at the thought of the ape shooting of the man's ear. Was it purely an accident? What would have happened if the shot was a bit further over?
As Gabe sipped the Coffee he felt his stomach growling.
For some unexplained reason he felt apprehensive about this convoy. It was up to him to herd the ordnance transport fill ed with gunpowder along with three other supply ships so overloaded they appeared to be bulging.
There were also a couple of troop ships. One was for the southern campaign at Charlestown and the other for New York. They would move at a snail's pace. Two thousand miles or so at the speed of the slowest sailor. Then up to New York and finally Halifax. They'd be lucky not to run out of rations before they got to Charlestown.
The commodore was right. The brig, Lancaster, looked as if she might sink at any moment. Years in the tropics would do that to a ship, especial y one that hadn't been coppered. Gabe believed her wizened old master when he said, "She needs scraping but otherwise she's sound." Gabe found Lieutenant Bruce to be as the commodore described. I'd not put him in charge of a bumboat much
less a brig, Gabe thought. He was doubly glad of her master.
Lieutenant Estes, captain of the Wild Goose seemed very capable. It was almost shameful, the relief on Bruce's face when he found out not only would Gabe be in command but Lieutenant Estes would be his second if anything should happen.
The Wild Goose looked fairly new. She was an American made schooner and would handle well, Gabe knew from previous experience. However, she was less than eighty feet long, had a crew of seventy to seventy-five and carried only ten six-pounders and a few swivels for armament.
Again, as the commodore had said, not much firepower to protect the convoy they were to escort. Dagan came in as Gabe was finishing his coffee.
"Mr. Hazard said the wind has freshened. Some of the convoy has already gotten underway without your signal." Damn, Gabe thought, recalling the words from the Turtle's captain. "We know when and how to sail, Navy boy, you just protect us." So much for meetings. Hazard met Gabe as he came on deck.
"Anchors hove short."
"Very well, up anchor, Mr. Hazard, loosen the head sails. Make general signal to get underway." No sooner had the signal been given when Lavery reported, "Wild Goose has already gotten the wind in her sails.
"Main the braces" Gabe eyed Wild Goose. He didn't want it to appear a race but he didn't like being beat. Not when it was suppose to be him calling the shots.
"Sir," Hazard cal ed, "I don't see any action on board the Lancaster."
"Mr. Davy!"
"Aye, sir."
"Signal Lancaster. Make haste!" Hands aloft, Mr. Hazard. Loosen the fore topsail."
SeaWolf had made her way through the winding array of ships in the anchorage.
"Winds appears to be picking up, sir," the master volunteered. "Should make for fine sailing."
"Mr. Davy!"
"Aye, sir."
"Make general signal to convoy to form line behind SeaWolf. Signal Wild Goose to take station to leeward and Lancaster to windward."
"Aye, sir."
Halfway through the first watch Gabe made it down to his cabin, so tired he collapsed into his chair. He now saw his brother and father in a new light. Holding command was not always "al claret and prize money" as someone had once put it. Keeping the convoy together took more coaxing and bullying than Gabe would have imagined. He was physical y and mental y drained. He'd had to have Wild Goose surge ahead and put one across Turtle's bow to make her comply with sailing orders.
Turtle's master had closed to hailing distance with SeaWolf before taking her position in the convoy. Captain Patrick in his brogue Irish had threatened Gabe for his high-handedness and promised Gabe he'd hear from high authority.
"He's just trying you," Dagan had said.
Thankful y, Lancaster had remained on station and responded when Gabe had signalled changes. "Her master's a good man," Blake reassured Gabe. "We were mates together on the old Ogdon. He knows what he's about. He'll keep station."
To which, in one of his rare demonstrations of temper, Dagan had responded, "Hell, a man with a good set of oars in a row boat could keep station with us." Maybe that was it, Gabe thought. They were used to independence and flying with the wind. Not creeping along at five knots.
It seemed like an age since they'd set sail from English Harbour but after that first day everyone had settled down to routine. They'd shortened sail at night and carried al the canvas the ships could handle during the day. Al sorts of drill had been practiced and competitions had been set-up to keep the crew busy so they wouldn't get sullen. Only one man had been flogged.
However, if the master was right they should sight land the next afternoon; if not, then early the following
day. Some of the weariness he'd felt that first day still lingered, but overall he was much better. Dawkins was there as always with that much needed first cup of coffee. It had been hard to get to sleep the previous evening and harder still getting up. Gabe would never be an early riser.
The early gray light of dawn was starting to penetrate the stern windows. The lanthorn was still needed but not for long. Looking up at the lanthorn he noticed it swinging more than usual. Then Gabe realized there was more than the usual rol as SeaWolf made her way. When Dagan entered the cabin moments later he found Gabe almost completely dressed.
"You feel the wind?" he asked.
Gabe nodded his answer as he took a sip of Dawkins' fresh hot coffee. Once on deck Gabe found the master and first lieutenant together.
"Morning, sir." Lavery had the watch. "Looks like we're in for a blow. I hope we don't lose any of our cows." Lavery took particular delight into referring to the merchantmen thusly.
"We're in for a gale, sure enough," the master confirmed. "Not unusual when the warm Caribbean waters and the cold Atlantic waters come together at this time of year. We're in for rain and maybe some hail.
The wind is from the east heading west-nor-west. I'd keep the sails reduced, sir, or we may find ourselves on a lee shore before we know it."
The rains came quickly and in sheets, then with the wind picking up the temperature dropped and then the rain became sleet. Desiring to look at the compass, Gabe and the master half-walked and half-slid across the deck to the binnacle.
"Damned if I ain't half-blinded," the master complained. Gabe had Hazard change the men on deck every half-hour. With no fire it wasn't much better below deck but at least the crew was out of the wind and rain.
"No cause to be anxious yet, Cap'n, but it wouldn't hurt my feelings none if we was to change our course a point or two to the North."
"I was thinking the same thing," Gabe replied, "But we can barely see the next ship in line and I'm sure their captain would never see a change of course signal."
"Maybe we could fire a gun, sir," Lavery volunteered.
"Think they'd hear it in this wind?" Gabe said.
"No, we'll stay on course, but if by the first dog watch the weather hasn't moderated we'll have to do something."
"Aye, cap'n," the master answered as he wiped sleet from his face. "I think I'll take another look at my charts."
The sleet did stop and the wind died down to a moderate breeze. "Not a moment to soon for my
liking," Blake declared. "Another hour and I doubt we could've beaten our way off a lee shore."
Gabe looked at the master. His kind always seemed to be overly cautious but a prudent captain always listened to his master. Lieutenant Hazard had the glass to his eye. "I see Wild Goose and two of the convoy but the rest are no where to be seen, including the Turtle and the Lancaster.
"Should we send up a flare, sir?" This from Lieutenant Lavery. "Maybe they'll see that." A flare every ten minutes had been agreed upon for situations like this, but Gabe was hesitant.
"Mr. Davy."
"Aye, cap'n."
"Go aloft with a glass and see what you can, including land. We have a few minutes of daylight left so perhaps you'll spot something."
Without speaking, Gabe looked at Dagan who nodded, "I'll go skylarking with you Mr. Davy, but mind you, I'm too old to go racing through the ratlines like Caleb's ape." This brought a smile to the little group.
Gabe's father, Vice Admiral Anthony, had always said, "Dagan's got the best peepers I ever did see." Well, hopeful y he could pick up something now.
When the two got back on deck, Dagan let Mr. Davy make his report. "Two sails dead astern, sir, and I think the brig is abeam on the weather side. That's in addition to Wild Goose and the troop ships we can see from deck."
"So one of our eggs is missing, a turtle egg. I shouldn't wonder," Gabe said aloud, and then asked, "What about land?"
Mr. Davy looked to Dagan who answered, "Nothing for sure but by the way the clouds appear I'd say we're close. I also think Turtle is dead ahead by ten miles or so."
Gabe had the feeling that there was more but didn't push it. "Better send up flares, Mr. Hazard."
"Aye, cap'n."
Turning to speak to Dagan, Gabe's eyes seemed to blur and he suddenly felt dizzy and nauseated. "I think I need to go below," he said suddenly, and as he turned, collided with the bosun.
"My gawd sir," Graf said, "You're burning up."
Dagan helped Gabe to his cabin and sent Mr. Davy for Caleb. After speaking with Gabe, Caleb said,
"You've developed the humours, sir. A maladious humour more than likely due to the stress one has placed on his system without allowing time for the habitus to rejuvenate. I do hope this malady is not due to a contagion. Now Dawkins will give you a tea made of will ow bark to help with agues. I've added lemon and honey so that the tea will be more palatable. A generous dollop of brandy may also help you rest better. Now sir, I shall require you retire to your bed and not be disturbed until the morrow."
With a word to Dawkins to send for him should any further symptoms arise Caleb headed for the wardroom.
When Caleb had left, Dagan came over and sat by Gabe's cot.
"What else did you see," Gabe asked.
"Maybe nothing but maybe three sails, just on the horizon. Fine on the starboard bow."
"Which direction was they headed?"
"The light was too bad to tell," Dagan replied, "But tomorrow we'll know."
Dagan helped Dawkins get Gabe's boots off so he could rest properly. Then Dagan helped Gabe sit up while Dawkins administered Caleb's concoction.
"Damn," Gabe grimaced. "I thought the lemon and honey was to make the tea palatable."
"More palatable was Caleb's exact words, I believe," Dagan smiled. "You know Caleb, cure ye or kill ye, makes no difference. Either way, you quit complaining.