It was a sullen, listless show. The oncoming officer-of-the-watch, Paddon, seemed disinclined to stretch them and contented himself with the minimum necessary. Was he concerned that if he had them knees down deck-scrubbing it would provoke a rising?
Now would be the right time for a taut captain to come down hard and lay out just how he wanted his ship run, but Kydd had a bigger problem: how to get Tyger to sea.
At ten a shore boat brought the welcome sight of Tysoe, imperturbably seeing his baggage and stores up the side.
“The boat to lay off,” Kydd ordered.
To his credit, there was only a moment of wide-eyed disbelief as Tysoe entered the bare cabin. Kydd had ordered all of Captain Parker’s personal ornaments and knick-knacks to be placed in the cot and taken ashore by the waiting boat. For some reason he kept the needlework but everything else went.
“Sir Thomas,” Tysoe said, troubled. “You have no bed.”
“Draw a hammock from slops, there’s a good chap,” Kydd replied instantly.
The morning went quickly. He put off seeing the purser with his accounts but asked for the master, telling him they would be going to sea in the near future. “To join the North Sea squadron. Do you have good charts from the Texel to France? I rather think that’s where we’ll be employed, Mr Le Breton, and I’ve never served on that coast.”
“Ah, I’d feel happier were I to have the new ‘Antwerp approaches,’ sir. May I send for one?”
Kydd nodded, distracted. Sooner or later he must complete the paperwork and put to sea. If anything, this would be the thing to bring it all to a head. But it couldn’t be delayed for much longer-all the time they lay at anchor they were consuming victuals and water and the canker of idleness was spreading.
Then he had an idea. An outrageous idea that fitted the bill perfectly, solving several other problems for him but which was fraught with unknowns. In the privacy of his cabin he penned a quick note, sealed it and asked the officer-of-the-watch to signal for a shore boat. When it came he handed over the message with the instruction to deliver it to the senior naval officer, Yarmouth Roads.
Too late to change his mind now.
He slowly paced the quarterdeck, sniffing the wind, a fresh westerly breeze. “Mr Paddon.”
“Sir?” There was wariness in his manner.
“Hands to stations to unmoor ship.”
The officer goggled. “W-what did you say, sir?”
“Am I being unclear? I ordered stations to unmoor ship. Carry on, Mr Paddon.”
When a ship put to sea there was a notice period-known as being under sailing orders-that warned all that the ship was about to leave port. The Blue Peter was hoisted to signify it.
Men on liberty ashore would repair back on board, mail would be quickly written and consigned to the mailbag, last-minute stores and various to-ings and fro-ings would occur before the final ceremony of closing up the ship’s company for departure.
Kydd had cut through all that: they were going to sea with no warning period whatsoever. If there were troublemakers, they had no time to plan anything and could not, for they would be closed up at stations.
Tyger had no men at liberty ashore, no ties, no port admiral and ceremonies: there was no need of a notice for sea.
A frigate generally victualled for a six-month voyage-three months in home waters-and, stored not so long before, Tyger had all the sea endurance she needed to join the squadron.
In his note he had explained that his orders had stressed his losing no time in joining the North Sea squadron and this had priority over petty matters such as signing for stores accounts and the like.
They were on their way.
There was utter confusion for the first ten minutes or so as men below had to be convinced of what was happening but eventually they took station.
He didn’t ease the pressure and, with the capstan manned, he gave orders to get under weigh.
In rising feeling he saw that he’d been right: in the controlled chaos that was putting to sea there was no one point that gave chance for a banding together in refusal.
In well-worn sequence the anchor was won clear, sail dropped from the yards and, with a gentle sway to leeward, Tyger got under way for the open sea.
“Set sea watches, Mr Hollis. I’ll be below.” It would be some time before things settled down, and he allowed himself a grimace of sympathy for the hapless officer-of-the-watch.
But it was done! Tyger was safely to sea and the healing could begin.
CHAPTER 9
IT TOOK HOURS ONLY to reach the rendezvous line of the squadron on the front line of the defence of Britain.
Vice Admiral Russell’s force of a handful of sail-of-the-line came into view off the treacherous and hostile Texel and Scheldt. Their task: to keep the seas in all weathers and deny Bonaparte any chance to break out. A no less vital role was the tight blockade on the Netherlands coast and all the enemy ports either side to choke off trade in this new economic war.
The squadron was part of the strategic North Sea Fleet under Admiral Keith, with responsibility for the entire eastern approaches to Great Britain. With the Channel Fleet they’d succeeded in keeping England inviolate for more than a dozen long years.
Admiral Russell was welcoming. A frigate with its multiplicity of possible roles was the most valuable reinforcement a lonely commander might wish for. And at this remove Russell seemed not to have heard of the turbulence following Popham’s court-martial.
“You’ll stay for supper, my boy?”
“I thank you, sir, but there’s a matter of urgency I need to discuss with you.”
“Oh?”
“My ship Tyger was lately taken in mutiny.”
“I know about that. I’d hazard you’re going to tell me you’ve an entire new ship’s company and wish to train ’em to satisfaction. I can give you a week, that’s fair enough.”
“No, sir. Her company is the same as rose up.”
Russell frowned. “Not dispersed among the fleet at all? A rum do, that. The Admiralty knows b’ now what’s needed in such. I’m supposing they’re hard pressed for men-ha! Ha!”
“Ah, yes, sir. It’s just that-”
“I do apologise, Kydd. I didn’t mean to make light of such a drear affair. So all the officers the same, Captain Parker sent away and you hoisted in to sort it all out?”
“Sir.”
“So. I don’t envy you, old fellow. Are they settling, at all?”
“This is what I wanted to speak to you about. They’re as fractious and discontented a crew as ever I’ve seen and show not a sign of being reconciled. I don’t wish to revile Captain Parker’s commanding but-”
“You can take it I understand what you’re saying, Kydd. And a hard thing indeed when you know not a soul of your seamen, their temper.”
“I should tell you now, sir, that my judgement was to get to sea as quick as I could, and sadly therefore had to put aside much in the way of paperwork-handover accounts and similar until I’m in better position to give them attention.”
“Quite right.”
Relieved, Kydd went on, “Sir, what I ask is that you give orders as will see Tyger in action against the enemy just as soon as we may.”
“Done!” Russell agreed. “The inshore flotilla. Hard sea conditions but you might even snap up a prize or two, you never know. First, you’ll have to satisfy me you’re in a right and proper state for it.”
“The ship’s new stored, no powder and shot expended, and my boatswain’s survey gives me no concern for her sticks. It’s her crew only-that they’ll fight when called on. If they do, I can’t think of a more sovereign medicine for what ails ’em.”
“And if they don’t?” Russell frowned. “I admire your spirit, Kydd, but you’re taking a risk, m’ boy. Can I interest you in taking a fair-sized detachment o’ marines who-”
“Thank you, sir, no. They’ll not pull together if they see they’re under guard, and when they finally do, they’re to see it’s all their own efforts.”