Parrot was big as schooners go, not like the smaller island-built types. She was over sixty-five feet on the range of the deck, American-built of pine and fast as the very wind. Except for a small raised area aft to improve the headroom of the master's cabins, she was a flushdeck, and carried eight small four-pounder cannon, four on each beam, and with lighter swivels fore and aft as chase guns. She could fly three foresails, or jibs, two huge gaffed fore-and-aft sails on her fore and mainmasts, and when at any point of sail from a close reach to running before the wind could also add two smaller topsails on crossed yards. Since she would be running dispatches, it was not meant for her to carry the usual four months of food and water required of rated ships, so the crew had much more room in which to stretch out. But she still had a large crew of fifty men, includi,ng officers, warrants and stewards. Enough to make sail, and enough to fight her, if pressed into a comer. But her principal defense was to be her greater speed-she could do nearly twelve knots.
She could also point up much higher to windward than most ships such as brigs, which was a final form of salvation against being taken.
As soon as Lewrie saw her he was in heaven, since she did not rate a sailing master, chaplain, schoolmaster, no Marines and only one master's mate, a stocky individual with thinning hair named Claghome.
Kenyon was master and commander, and was given the deferential title of Captain, and was responsible for her navigation and safety, with only Claghome to help him. There was a sun and only one mate, and though she rated a surgeon, she did not have one, but only a surgeon's mate to serve in lieu of a more experienced man. But since they never would be far from some port, it was thought that he would suffice until they could drop anchor where there was medical help.
Kenyon had a tidy aftercabin which had a private quartergallery privy, and a hanging locker to the other side, a day cabin which held his settee by the stem windows, a desk, a sleeping cabin with a hanging bed box, small chart cabin and a dining space. And the furnishings the former owners had been deprived of were of good quality. Mr. Claghome the master's mate, Boggs the surgeon's mate, Lewrie and the other midshipman, a fifteen-year-old named Thaddeus Purnell, berthed in the wardroom forward of Kenyon's quarters. Parrot had been meant to be a privateer, so she had carried prize officers, who had been given small private cabins. They weren't much; canvas and lath screens for partitions, stationary bunks, and a washhand stand and bookshelf, with room for a chest (barely) and a row of pegs for a locker, but it had a door, and it was more privacy than he had seen in months, even if every noise penetrated the insubstantial walls.
They also had a good-quaIity dining table, and trestle seats down each side instead of using their chests. After the cockpit in Ariadne it was approaching luxury.
There were some familiar faces from Ariadne in the crew. The rest were those "volunteers" who had hoped to escape a bad officer or a bosun in their previous ship, or those men that any captain would offer up first to the needs of the Fleet, and would gladly get rid of at the first opportunity. There were also a great many hands fresh-arrived in Antigua who were barely seamen at all. Ten of the men, and all the boy servants, were West Indians, cheeky runts who spoke a dialect that Alan had a great difficulty understanding as the King's English.
The first item of business was stocking the ship. A man was chosen to be a cook, another West Indian who swore he knew how, and supplies began to arrive aboard, ferried by Lewrie and Purnell in their eternal role of water taxi men. Since there was no purser or assistant, the Jack in The Bread Room, Kenyon's clerk and Lewrie had to take over the role, but since Leonard wished to eventually save enough to purchase a place as a purser, it was much easier than Lewrie thought. And Parrot was already armed and stocked well with good French powder and small arms, though the guns were English, as was the shot. Their task was to bring firewood, coal, rum, livestock, flour, fruit, paint, extra slop clothing and naval stores for the bosun, Mr. Mooney.
After two days of stocking, Kenyon summoned his mates and petty officers to the aftercabin, which crowded that space severely. Kenyon sat behind his desk while Mooney, Claghome and Leonard had the settee by the open stem windows. Also on hand were Lewrie, Purnell, Docken the gunner, Bright the gunner's mate. Kenyon had had the cook squeeze some fresh lemons and limes to make a cooling drink for the meeting. Lewrie's first duty was to help the captain's servant, a West Indian named George, fill everyone's mugs. ’Let's get down to business, shall we?" Kenyon said. "Now, normally with only me and Mister Claghome, and only Mister Mooney and his mate to tend to things, we should be watch-and-watch in rotation. But I propose that we go to three watches and take advantage of our midshipmen. Mister Purnell has a good report from his last captain, and has served on prizes with a bosun's mate, which is why we got him. And I know Mister Lewrie's qualities from our last ship, Ariadne.’
Purnell sneaked a look at Lewrie to size him up, and Lewrie gave him equal treatment. Obviously Purnell had money; he was very well turned out and obviously someone's favorite for him to be here. He was a gawky fifteen-year-old with red hair and freckles. Hardly looked harmful. Yet. ’Mooney tells me that Bond, one of the quartermasters, wants to strike for bosun's mate, and we shall let him do so, and appoint one hand to serve as his replacement. Mister Mooney, you might have some name to suggest?’
‘Aye, sir," Mooney rumbled deep in his barrel chest. "Might pick another man for acting quartermaster for the tiller as well, so we have a chance to train as many people as possible," Lieutenant Kenyon went on, sipping at his lemon water. ’That will do for the men aft, at any rate. The hands will stay in their familiar starboard and larboard watches. I doubt if their conservatism would allow else.’
’Aye, sir," Claghorne said, thinking on the superstitious and habitual nature of their seamen, who would balk at anything that smacked of newfangled notions. ’We shall place an experienced bosun's mate with the lads, and the acting bosun's mate with either me or Mister Claghome. I expect we could put Purnell and Lewrie on the Middle Watch and First or Second Dog Watches, where they could not get into much trouble, and give us a chance to sleep somewhat peacefully. They could nap in the Forenoon, subject to the requirements of the ship, of course.’
Lewrie grinned over the edge of his mug. It was tantamount to being appointed an acting lieutenant, and would look good in his record to be so honored, perhaps shortening the time he would have to be a midshipman. And there was also the prospect that Parrot just might take a prize and he be appointed to command of it… ’I also want to take advantage of Mister Purnell's experience to assist the bosun and his mates in the general condition of the ship, and I wish Mister Lewrie to be seconded to the gunner and his mate, as he has a great fondness for artillery. Sail tending in the Forenoon watches, exercise the guns during the day. We have a stout little vessel in Parrot, well built and clean of rot. We have guns sufficient to protect us against any light vessel that could catch us, and enough turn of speed to outrun or outpoint anything heavier. We have some people who need training, and some that need reminding that they are still in the King's Navy, so we have hard work ahead of us. Use your starters as you will for now, but try to avoid flogging incidents until we have shaken down into a crew, unless totally unavoidable.’
Soon after that they were dismissed. Lewrie went below to the magazine to check up on things and do an inventory. Bright, the gunner's mate, went with him.
They counted their linstocks, lengths of slow match, sand, powder horns, firing quills and their condition, gun tools and the general condition of the four-pounders. ’Spankin' new, they are, Mister Lewrie," Bright told him, unsure how much authority Kenyon had given him. "Took off one of ours, I guess. Not a year old by the proof marks, an' hardly fired.’
’How accurate is a four-pounder?" Lewrie asked. "Random shot at a mile, good chance of a hit at six cables.
Not as accurate as a nine-pounder. Might wanta get rid a this junk.’
’What is it?’
‘She's fulla Frog tricks, Mister Lewrie. Canister-cases a musket balls ta clear a deck or a fightin' top. That's star-shot," Bright said, picking up a round. "Comes apart inta four pieces held tagether like this. Good for takin' down riggin' and cripple a prize first. No stomach for a close fight.’
’I see we have more swivels.’
’Aye, eight more. I guess they were gonna mount 'em on each beam.’
’We shall have to get the hands used to them. You might make up some cartridge.s, and some canister for the swivels. We might get some target practice at kegs or something with them," Lewrie suggested. ’Aye, we could." Bright frowned, thinking how much work it was. ’What are these?" Lewrie asked, picking up an unusual rod of some kind from an entire case of them. It resembled a large iron dart but was wrapped with a tarred cap of cloth and seemed to have small spring-loaded arms attached, neatly folded up behind the head along the shaft. ’Easy with that, them's fire arrers," Bright cautioned. "What do you do with them, Bright?" Lewrie asked, turning to look him square in the eye and establish that he was on at least an equal footing with the gunner's mate. Being rated a watch-officer didn't hurt, either. ’They's nasty stuff, Mister Lewrie. Ya shoots 'em outa the swivels. That sets 'em afire, an' when they hits, they snap open so's they can't go no farther. Sticks in the sails and bums ' em up. I'd feel a lot safer without 'em. They're touchy as hell. 'Sides, it ain't Christian to do that. even to an enemy. It's a damn pirate's weapon, not fit for a King's ship.’
’But they have been found to be most effective?’
‘Sir?" Bright asked, not understanding the word and taking the deferential air of an inferior by force of habit. ’Do they work real good?" Alan rephrased. ’Devilish good, sir.’
’Let's hang on to them. then. Bring in a tub of water and make sure they are closed up, and unable to rub and take fire on their own. We just might find a use for them.’
’Aye, sir," Bright said, almost touching his forehead in a salute. The rest of the inventory went swiftly, counting the French model 1763 muskets, boarding pikes, cutlasses, tomahawks. and pistols, and the gun tools and grindstone that went with them. Since Parrot had no master-at-arms, Lewrie would be filling in in that capacity, and was happy to have so much to play with. The days ahead looked very promising.
A week later, Parrot was in all respects ready for sea. Lewrie was happy with his duties, and with his responsibilities. He had the guns painted, all tackles and breeching ropes snug. There were enough cartridges made up for a good battle, and still a quarter-ton of powder below decks in casks. The round-shot had been filed and sanded and painted and laid out in shotgarlands, while the slightly imperfect hung in net bags ready for practice use. All the small arms were oiled and sharpened, and he had gotten two watches in which to hold arms drill and change the assignments of who got axes or pikes or muskets.
Finally, a gig had flown out to them from the flag, and a stuffy lieutenant had handed over to them several weighted bags of mail or orders, along with their first sailing orders. For the first time the jibs were hoisted, and the anchor broken out of the bottom. The huge fore-and-aft sails rose up the masts and the booms swung out as they filled with wind. Water began to chuckle under Parrot's forefoot as she tacked her way out of the narrow channel to the outer roads and past the shipping anchored there. Once past Cape Shirley they turned east-sou'east for an offing, going hard to windward.
And then, with the island a smudge to the nor'west, they came about to the starboard tack with the wind abeam and began to thrash to the north, hoisting topsails as well, and winging out the gaff sails to use every ounce of wind. By the time they cast the first log they had gotten up to nearly ten knots, and it was glorious, since Parrot could go like a Cambridge Coach with her larboard side down slightly and cool spray bursting in sheets from her bows and creaming down her flanks, spattering the decks and wetting the jibs and fores'ls high over the beakhead.
By evening Quarters at sundown Antigua was out of sight, and other islands were silhouetted against the sunset far away to the west as they drove to pass Barbuda to their lee side. They were bound for Road Town in the VJIgins on the island of Tortola, thence to Nassau in New Providence, with a final stop at Bermuda. It was a risky voyage, prime hwricane season, but for then, the sea was kind, and the very best of the tropic weather prevailed.
They reefed down for the night and took in tops'ls, but even in the Middle Watch with Purnell a pale ghost near his side, Lewrie was taken by how fast they were going, and how much glorious fun it was. ’I think I am going to erijoy this immensely," he told Purnell over the sluicing noise and hiss of their hull cleaving the ocean. "The freedom," Purnell shouted back. "God, no line of battle, no admirals, no post-captains. We're free as the wind'‘
‘No sailing master. No screaming first officer," Lewrie added. ’Good food every time we anchor somewhere," Purnell went on, making circling motions over his stomach. "Like tonight.’
Lewrie had to agree that their dinner had been very good; boiled mutton cut fresh from a carcass, and seasoned with God knew what by the West Indian cook, but the old man had created a substantial meal that stuck with you, by God, and was snappier on the tongue than neat rum or plug tobacco. There had been new potatoes and strange red purple onions and a decent French red wine that was a lot more pleasing than Black Strap could ever hope to be. ’Tell you what, I'll be senior for the first two hours," Purnell said. "You be my junior, and then at four bells we'll change round.’
’Fair enough. I suppose you want the windward rail?" Lewrie asked, referring to the senior officer's right. ’Yes, if you don't mind.’
Lewrie really didn't mind. The night was too full of stars, of moonlight shimmering on the ocean, of the pleasing motion and the cool humidity of the night to be enjoyed. By God, this is more like it, he told himself at the larboard rail as he stared out at the ocean that glittered like a fairyland. If the rest of the Navy could be like this… Kenyon had allowed them to forgo heavy broadcloth uniform jackets. Now Alan rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, dressed in waistcoat, slop trousers and shirt. And since it was the Middle Watch he soon did away with the waistcoat and neckcloth as well, opening his shirt to the winds so that it fluttered and billowed out as it filled. Spray flew over the rail and smacked him now and then, and he found he looked forward to it each time, leaning far out to intercept it. He was in charge of a ship; maybe not much of a ship, but she was his for a while.
Even if he had to share her with Purnell and the bosun's mate. When it came his turn, he was amazed to see a dark smear to the nor' west. He left the windward side to cross to the binnacle and look at the chart by the tiller. By the feeble glow of the binnacle light he could see that they had already fetched Barbuda. Far inshore there were some faint lights, perhaps houses on the Atlantic side, or fishing boats working offshore. They would pass well to seaward of them, as long. as the wind held steady. He closed his eyes and tried to measure the strength of the wind on his cheek. Had it shifted a point? Backed on us, he decided. Parrot seemed to slow a bit. He could order the quartermaster to adjust his helm, but was afraid to upset the settled order of the night. No, there was something else to do that would allow them to hold the course that Kenyon had ordained. ’Bosun?" he called, and Mr. Kelly, the experienced bosun's mate who was their watcher, was there in a moment. "Wmd's backed a point. Summon the hands of the watch to veer out a piece on the braces and heads'l sheets," Lewrie ordered, hands behind his back and looking up at the set of the sails like a real watch officer would. But he found it hard to match Kelly's eyes as he dared issue his first real order.
'''Spect it's about time fer that, Mister Lewrie," Kelly replied, touching his hat with his fingers and turning away to call the hands.
Damme, that wasn't so bad, after all, Alan told himself after they had eased the sheets to allow the sails to stay full at a proper angle. "That ought to be enough, Mister Kelly. Belay all that.’
Lewrie made an entry in the log, also his first, noting what he had done, and then they slogged along into the night with the wind now more from abeam, but still holding their compass course, and Parrot giving no sign that she was going to do anything dire after being meddled with by amateurs. And when the end of the watch came, and Mr. Claghome took over for the Morning Watch, Lewrie was almost sorry to have to cede him the deck. As he doffed all his clothing and rolled into his bunk he pondered how fast people seemed to get promoted in wartime, as people got sick and had to be replaced, got killed and had to be replaced, or, like Parrot, the fleet grew in size and had to spread her substance thinner. Six years as a midshipman could be circumvented, if he were lucky enough, and in the right place at the right time. It felt like Parrot might be that place, and he swore that he would knuckle down once more and shine.
All during the hurricane season, Parrot dashed about the islands on her duties, putting in when a real stonn threatened, but mostly out in full gales and riding it out, or running ahead of them with waves crashing into her bows and spraying the full length of her decks. In those times when it was clear, she flew from one port to another, from one command to another, with all the drama and panache of an actress making a surprise entrance.
By the time hurricanes had ended for the winter, Parrot was a well-worked-up and fairly happy ship. The crew had settled down, the new men trained well enough and salted by their experiences, and the old hands brought up to scratch as they realized that Parrot was different from the Navy in which they had so recently suffered. They had a good cook, which went a long way toward making a happy ship, and they had fresh food more often than most, because they were never more than a week or two at best from a new anchorage.
Kenyon was firm but fair in his punishments when called upon to hand out disciplinary measures, and a taut -handed captain always seemed to do better than a lax one, or one who could not be relied upon to be fair. And as often as possible Kenyon let the ship Out of Discipline and allowed the doxies aboard to entertain the hands. With the regularity of their stops the men looked forward to seeing their favorite trolls on a steady basis, which provided a measure of stability and homelike consistency to their lives.
Lewrie began to enjoy naval service. The food was fresh and spicy, the wine palatable, the hours of work reasonable, as were the hours available for a good long rest at the end of them. There was also the matter of their duty; it was independence, dash and speed, and everyone reveled in it. He knew that every lieutenant that saw them had his teeth set on edge in envy at their freedom from convoys, from plodding patrol duty, from rocking along in the wake of a flagship in rigid order under the pitiless eye of senior officers. Other midshipmen he saw envied him as he climbed through the entry port with orders, for they knew that he had more responsibility than they, more chances to gain experience they could never have on larger ships, more opportunity to practice those skills they only could read about. The days were so full of work, and the nights so full oflearning how to lead, to steer, to be in charge, that he didn't have much time to think about it; he just did it, and, to be honest, it was satisfying.
Parrot went to so many interesting places. They might run over to Nevis and St. Kitts, then run with a landsman's breeze for Kingston, Jamaica. They might go down to St. Lucia, or up to Road Town. There were despatches from the senior admirals that had to go to rustic little Savannah in the Colonies, where the recently vanquished civilians gave dirty looks to anyone wearing the King's coat, but their women had to make a living, regardless. They might go into Charleston, where a tiny Tory minority made the most of their recent victory, and wondered how long they could hang on, and their parties for visiting officers were frantic with tension that translated into eager ladies whose men were away with Cornwallis and Tarleton.
They might work their way into St. Augustine in the British Aoridas, and wonder why anyone bothered with such a malarial, homespun sort of a place, more Spanish than anything else, a wilderness outpost with one foot in the grave, already.
They might dash north from there to tiny Wtlmington, up the Cape Fear River, and enjoy the pleasures that the place offered, as planters gathered at the shore for fear of their inland cousins. Once, they even got to carry messages as far north as New York, and finally went ashore in the great city, which turned out to be less impressive than Portsmouth back home. That was a city that could turn anyone crooked, Lewrie decided. You could hear cannon fire at night. and the women pulsed to its sound, and the monetary speculation that rode the latest omens for good or ill, and the general background of graft and cupidity with military and naval stores could turn a saint into a stockjobber or pimp.
Alan Lewrie learned that war could be a powetful aphrodisiac, and that a well-set-up young man in a uniform was able to take advantage of it. And when he had time to think back on his time before the Navy in London, he no longer found an aching emptiness but merely vague regrets that he hadn't had more time there to enjoy what he was enjoying now.
Sometimes he was shocked to find, in the middle of some duty, that he had risen gladly to that duty, and was satisfied with the crew's progress at small arms, gun drill, sailtending, or his own skill at leading them, or performing those personal skills such as longsplicing, position plotting and ship-handling. He knew he was a different person. The Alan Lewrie of December, 1780, in no way resembled the one almost pressganged in January. His skin was bronzed by the sun, his hair a lighter shade of brown from constant exposure, hands tougher, muscles leaner and fuller and able to cany him aloft or wield a sword with ease. His uniforms needed alteration to make room for the bulk he had added in those months of hard work, hard play and good food.
He had some money in hand, too, for those pleasures of their port stays, for Parrot had been lucky with prizes, though taking ships was not their primary purpose. But they had come upon a Spanish packet brig in the Straits of Florida after a gale, and took her without a shot being fired since she was still repairing damage and could offer no resistance.
On passage to St. Lucia they had run into a native lugger that was manned by a crazed pack of Creoles, Spaniards and poor French who were intent on a little practical piracy. Without a letter of marque, they were totally illegal. The leaders were later hanged, the lugger sold, and the blacks sold at auction, plus the "Head and Gun Money" from taking her.
They were chased once by a big privateer, and had the good fortune first of all to outrun her in a long stem chase, and the even greater fortune to run across an English frigate off Anegada, which promptly went to Quarters and took the privateer. Since they were the only other naval vessel in sight they shared in her prize money.
Altogether, l.ewrie had accrued nearly 160 pounds, or at least, Prize Court certificates for that amount, which he could sell off to a jobber for at least half their true value, or hold on to the largest until he returned to London, where he could be paid off.
Had someone forced Lewrie to delve into the reasons for a certain smug look of satisfaction on his face, he could discover that he was well fed, had access to a goodly supply of decent drink, got enough sleep, was being treated like a real person without being shouted at. could play with God's own amount of artillery, and what amounted to a yacht, and never went more than a fortnight without a chance to get beastly with all the willing mutton within reach.