"Gentlemen, this night should prove a night like no other. We are here to say farewell to Captain Pope who is returning to England with Drakkar for a much needed refitting." This time instead of cheers, good-natured boos. Once the noise quieted down, Anthony continued,
"He will have the honor of carrying with him our new admiral, Admiral Moffett. However, as one shipmate departs we welcome a new one. Gentlemen, I present Master and Commander, Sir Raymond Knight, Captain of the Navy's latest prize, HMS LeFrelon." Once more the cheers and toast. Meanwhile, Bart and Dagan had ambled aft, and were leaning on the taffrail having a wet, smoking their pipes, and having a quiet conversation. The aroma of burnt tobacco filled the air causing Johns, the fifth lieutenant who had the watch to look aft. Seeing the old seadogs he was touched.
It was men like these that took care of men like those below in the admiral's quarters that really made the Navy what it was.
Another cheer from below. Hearing it, Johns felt a pang of jealously and wished he could join the party. Not the one below, but the one at the taffrail.
Chapter Four
The gale force Atlantic winds carried the two ships along under full sail. SeaWolf and HMS Swan had been given orders to carry dispatches to Admiral Graves, whose squadron was thought to be somewhere between the West Indies, meaning Antigua, and Philadelphia.
Upon delivering the dispatches, SeaWolf and Swan, were to join Admiral Lord Anthony at Saint Augustine.
They had been ordered to sail together because of the increasing menace of privateers.
Lieutenant Markham, who commanded Swan, and Gabe had both received the benefit of serving as midshipman under Lord Anthony. Therefore, most of the time, they were of the same mindset. This was in evidence at the rate of speed, a full seven knots in a wind when most would have taken in a sail.
SeaWolf's First Lieutenant Jackson was in deep conversation with Nathan Lavery, the second lieutenant, and the only other officer aboard the ship. Dagan observed the two as he stood by the lee rail.
Undoubtedly, Jackson was pleased at what Lavery was telling him as a smile creased the otherwise hard leathery face. Were they talking about some adventure ashore, about their captain or some doxy? Which ever made no difference? They were happy and generally happy officers meant a happy crew.
Andy Gunnells, the ship's master, was aft trying to light his pipe, too stubborn to duck below the rail out of the wind'an Irishman, whose favorite phrase seems to be "God Save Ireland." A plume of smoke, the pipe had finally been lit and Gunnells ambled towards Dagan.
As he made his way he paused and cocked his head so that his right ear was pointed south. Dagan knew what caused Gunnells to cock his ear. He had just heard it too. Gunfire. No sooner had the thought come to mind than several seamen stopped what they were doing and faced forward.
"Lookout! Damme man, I'm calling you," Jackson bellowed. "Do you have anything to report?"
"No, sir," the lookout called down, "Clear to larboard and starboard. A bit 'o 'aze be blocking the view forward, sir."
Hearing either the gunfire or the lookout's report brought Gabe on deck. Dagan wasn't sure but had expected Jackson to send a messenger for him. Gabe was about to order another lookout be sent aloft when to his surprise Jackson headed up the futtock shrouds with his glass. Then, like a true sailor, shunned the lubbers hole as he found a place to perch, nudging the lookout over a bit.
There was a bit of haze, as the lookout had stated, but to a trained eye powder smoke was also visible.
Looking at the sailor seated next to him with a degree of disgust, Jackson called down his sighting.
Hearing the report, Gabe called Midshipman Lancaster, "Make a signal to Swan. Gunfire."
"Is that all, sir?" Lancaster asked.
"Aye, lad, Captain Markham needs no further information at present."
Swan had been to windward and about half a league behind SeaWolf. At sighting the signal, Markham had her brought up to within hailing distance.
"Sail ho!" The shout came from the masthead.
Jackson who had returned to the deck looked up waiting for the report to continue.
"Off the starboard bow, a brig by 'er tops'ls. Hull and mains'ls still down yit."
Gabe couldn't control his agitation. "Any other ships, anything in chase?"
"No, sir." Then after a pause, "Another ship 'as come outta the 'aze sir. A big un, a frigate she be. Her sails be red and yellow, sir."
"Whose sails man?" Jackson shouted out. "The brig or the frigate?"
"The frigate, sir. No flag but 'er sails look like a Dago's. She be luffin," cried the lookout.
This time there was no doubt when the distant ship fired. The heavy explosion filled the air. Gabe watched through his glass as a thundercloud of acrid smoke billowed out from the larger ship, reeking havoc on the small brig. Another racking explosion.
Damme thought Gabe. That cutthroat's gunners know their business.
"Mr. Druett!"
"Aye, captain."
"Double charge the bowchaser but no ball. See if we can attract the whoreson's attention."
"Aye, cap'n," Druett answered, then was off.
A confused Midshipman Lancaster looked to Dagan,
"No ball?" he asked.
"Aye, lad. With a double charge it will sound like we have a heavy gun and if they can't see the splash of ball they won't know how close we are."
An old trick Gabe's father had discussed during one of his many talks. So the boy had been paying attention, Dagan thought. If the old admiral could see his son now he'd be proud.
Again a terrific blast from the Spaniard ship, enveloping both ships in smoke. As the smoke cleared the Spanish vessel appeared to be hauling her wind.
Maybe she had spied Swan and SeaWolf. Although together the pair would present little or no challenge for the frigate.
Training his glass back on the hapless brig Gabe realized here was the reason for the frigate's departure.
The brig was listing badly to larboard, most of the upper structure gone. Mast riggings, bulwark, transom all shot away. The poor ship was sinking. The frigate had completed its deadly task. No boats were in the water, so undoubtedly they were destroyed as well. A few of the crew could be seen on deck. A grating was lowered over the side, apparently with wounded strapped to it. Gabe turning to Dagan said, "I wonder how much help Caleb will be."
Out of the brigs full complement only twenty-seven survived the vicious pounding by the frigate. The senior survivor was the carpenter, a man oddly enough named Woods, John Woods.
"We were carrying uniforms, boots and such," he explained. "Few cases of muskets with powder and shot to go along, but no great cargo; so we were sailing without escort. Then along comes this ship flying his Spanish colors. Since we weren't at war with Spain the captain didn't seem to be too concerned. She can overtake us at any turn, he told me shipmate, Bundy.
Then the frigate hauls down her colors but stead of boarding us like the cap'n figures she'll do, she just opens her gun ports and blasts away."
"Maybe she saw us," Jackson volunteered.
"Begging your pardon sir," Woods answered the first lieutenant. "I don't think she was to much worried about
a brigantine and a schooner. Bundy, he's… he was the ship's master, said it was almost like the Barracuda had a score to settle with us."
"The Barracuda?"
"Aye, sir, that was the name on the frigate. The Barracuda."
Later, when things had settled down Gabe, Caleb and Dagan sat in Gabe's cabin. Each man nursing a glass of wine and listened as Lum played a tune on his lotz. The sun had all but set, but what was left sent a prism of colors across the stern as it was reflected from the cold ocean waters. Trying to see out the windows was now difficult as they were caked with salt. SeaWolf along with Swan drove further and further to the southwest.