On 21 August, off the coast of Ireland, John Deane was standing watch. He spotted two ships, three leagues distance from the Nottingham Galley. The ships were waiting in a bay to the leeward of Dean’s vessel. He called Christopher Langman on deck. Deane told Langman that he wished to sail toward the two ships. Langman and other members of the crew observed the vessels and perceived that the ships were probably French privateers. To obey the captain’s orders was to risk capture. They advised a more evasive course of action. John Deane repeatedly made his wishes clear: approach the ships. The crew refused to obey his orders. Deane did nothing.
Nicholas Mellin and George White overheard Charles Whitworth talking to John Deane. Whitworth admitted that he had rather the Nottingham Galley be captured by the French. Whitworth owned an eighth of the ship. He stated that he had insured the ship to the sum of £200. The implication was that the money that could be made on the insurance, should the vessel be taken, was a greater financial enticement than selling the cargo in New England. John Deane admitted that his brother Jasper had had exactly the same thoughts, having paid £300 in insurance. John Deane stated that if he could get away with running the ship ashore and claiming the insurance money then he would do so. It is unclear in Langman’s account and the subsequent affidavits whether this conversation took place during the night, during the following day, or whether the conversation took place twice. But all three of the crew members that would later sign the affidavits were united in the conviction that John Deane, his brother and Charles Whitworth intended to deliberately lose the Nottingham Galley for criminal profit.
In the morning the privateers were spotted again. John Deane repeated his intention to sail toward them, or else weigh anchor and allow the French to approach the Nottingham Galley. John Deane was supported by his brother and Charles Whitworth. Once again Langman and the crew opposed their captain. John Deane changed tactics and bid the men sail toward the shore. At some point in the morning Deane ordered Nicholas Mellin to hoist the Nottingham Galley’s tackle over the side of the ship, a precursor to going ashore. John Deane and Charles Whitworth went into the cabin. They collected their valuables and put them in a chest. They ordered the chest to be moved to a rowing boat. Then Deane assured his men that they ‘should want for nothing’. It was a tacit bribe to enlist their support in what he was preparing to do. John Deane intended to run the ship aground.
Once again, Christopher Langman refused to obey John Deane’s commands. He explained to Deane that the Nottingham Galley was only 7 leagues from its destination. The wind favoured them. They could outrun the privateers and be in port and safety before nightfall. Langman would not sail the ship any closer to shore than was absolutely necessary. Deane let the first mate have his way. Langman navigated the Nottingham Galley safely between the shore of the Irish coast and a nearby island evading the privateers and arriving in the port of Killybegs sometime between six and seven o’clock in the evening.
The Nottingham Galley stayed in Killybegs for the rest of August and most of September. Thirty tons of butter was loaded aboard the ship as well as three hundred cheeses. On 25 September 1710 the Nottingham Galley set sail for Boston.
As a captain, John Deane’s conduct off the coast of Ireland had been extraordinary. He had attempted to take a course of action flagrantly designed to effect either the capture or the loss of his vessel when alternative means of escape were available. He had also given orders that had been refused and hadn’t disciplined his crew for what was effectively mutinous behaviour. For better or worse, a captain’s authority needed to be absolute in the hermetic commonwealth of an ocean-going vessel. But now that Deane and his crew were in the open sea the captain reasserted his authority with a vengeance. He began a campaign of systematic abuse. He beat the men. He singled out two crew members that had been particularly conspicuous in their opposition during the privateer episode. He beat them so badly that they couldn’t work for an entire month. He weakened the men by reducing their rations, allowing them a single quart of water per day. To exacerbate their thirst, he fed them salt beef. To sate their thirst, whenever it rained, the crew were driven to virtually lap water from the ship’s deck.
On one particular occasion, John Deane forgot to lock the hold that permitted access to the ship’s water supply. An unnamed member of the crew discovered the captain’s error. He stole below deck. He took a gallon of water. His intention was to distribute it among the crew and give them a decent drink. John Deane interrupted him. He hit the man hard, knocking him to the ground. Many of the crew thought, for a few moments, that John Deane had killed their shipmate.
Deane’s actions had no pragmatic value to them. He had re-established his authority, but in doing so had also physically weakened his crew. The motives for his actions appeared to have had more to do with revenge for the earlier usurpation of his authority and the spoiling of his scheme than anything else. Deane’s violence and the crew’s inability to withstand it attested to something about Deane that his own, his brother’s, and his enemy’s testimonies all agreed on: John Deane was a physically tough man. His constitution could endure more punishment than his peers, if Deane’s and his brother’s accounts are to be believed. He could also dish out brutal physical punishment without fear of retaliation, if Langman and company’s testimonies are to be believed. Even taking this into account, the crew’s passivity seems a little bit extraordinary. John Deane had his brother Jasper and Charles Whitworth to support him but they were not particularly tough men. The crew’s passivity becomes more understandable when we know that John Deane had access to at least one firearm. And before the voyage was done he would use his gun to threaten the life of Christopher Langman, the only crew member still capable of defying the increasingly unstable captain.
As the Nottingham Galley approached Newfoundland, a ship was spotted sailing toward her. The ship appeared to be in pursuit of the merchant vessel. John Deane and Charles Whitworth’s previously grim mood changed with the news. They were both suddenly agreeable and generous. They opened the ship’s store of grog and gave the men free reign to get as drunk as they pleased on brandy and strong beer. Deane and Whitworth both believed that the new ship was another privateer. To receive their captors, Deane and Whitworth changed into their best clothes. They were mistaken. The ship was the Pompey, an English vessel.
As the Nottingham Galley sailed on to New England, the first land spotted was Cape Sables. Boston was 50 leagues away. John Deane lay the ship by for a few days. This was the process in which a ship would stop sailing in order to avoid bad weather or else administer repairs. The weather was reasonable. When Deane set sail for Boston, the weather was starting to become more troublesome, strong enough to necessitate the furling of the ship’s sails to avoid them being shredded by the wind. A westerly wind forced the ship off course. The Nottingham Galley lost sight of land.
Between seven and eight o’clock in the morning, on 11 December, Nicholas Mellin spotted land. The land was situated leeward of the Nottingham Galley: Cape Porpus. Mellin called the captain and the first mate to the deck. Almost as soon as the two men were brought together they began to argue. John Deane claimed that the land Mellan had spotted was the first land that they had sighted. Langman disagreed. They had spied land a week previously when they had passed Cape Sables. The argument must have seemed, for a moment, like a fatally mistimed exercise in one-upmanship between two master pedants. But there were consequences to Deane’s lapse of memory that Langman felt compelled to point out. The Nottingham Galley was currently too close to shore. The Nottingham Galley had strayed off course precisely because Deane had decided to lay the ship near the very Cape Sables he currently couldn’t remember having seen. Deane’s delay had caused the ship to hit the bad weather that had blown them off course; he was responsible for their current situation. Deane’s actions had cost them a week. Had they carried on at Cape Sables then they would, in Langman’s estimation, be in Boston by now. As it stood, they were unnecessarily delayed and too close to the shore.