'No sir, I'll see them done.'
Lord Anthony felt clammy as he wiped the moisture from his face. Droplets of moisture had gathered in Oxford 's beard and dripped to the deck.
'I can smell the stench of the shore,' Oxford sounded distressed. 'Not a fit place for a man-o-war if you ask me.'
Anthony had to agree. The Bay of Bundy was narrow and the coast treacherous. Anthony's squadron was escorting a convoy to St. John's, New Brunswick. If Oxford was right the Grand Manan Island was just to larboard.
Privateers had considered this area their personal raiding grounds. It was rumored they had captured from these waters enough powder and shot to keep Washington 's army supplied for a year. small gunboats would dash in and cut out a supply ship before the convoy escort even knew something was amiss.
Anthony had hoped to prevent this from happening to supply ships under his protection. It took daring and experienced captains but Anthony was sure of his captains. Most had been with him for several years.
Drakkar was off on independent patrol but Anthony had the rest of his convoy sail in a diamond formation.
Stephen Earl was in temporary command of SeaWolf and sailed at the head of the formation. Warrior was further astern of SeaWolf and Pigeon and Audacity were on the flanks with Buck bringing up the rear in Merlin.
In the middle sailed the convoy. Anthony had held a meeting with al the convoy's captains and laid out specific instructions and sailing plans for the rest of their journey to St. Johns. From Maine, most had already at some point been witness to the raiders and therefore were willing to comply with the Admiral's orders.
Anthony had been looking towards the invisible coast, sensing the nearby dangers he couldn't see.
'Not a fit day ’ta my way of thinking, sir.' Anthony had been so engrossed with the dangerous coast he'd not been aware Bart had approached. 'I think it's a prime day for privateers,' Anthony responded. 'They could be on us before we knew it with this damn fog.'
'Aye,' Bart answered. 'I brung yew a cloth to wipe ye face. Maybe ye glass when the fog lifts.' Looking at his thoughtful cox'n, Anthony asked,
'You getting a case of nerves?'
'Nerves? Nay, my lord, it's a bel y full of Silas and that damn ape I'm getting. Do you know my lord Silas asked me to take the damn ape to the head so's he could shat. Damned if I will.'
Anthony couldn't help but smile to himself. Bart's anger was more to do with Mr. Jewell s downing a tankard of rum Bart had made the mistake of setting down on the table while he opened a stern window.
'Think the little bastard can swim?' Bart had asked angrily. 'I feel like drowning the bugger.' It was the first time Anthony had ever heard Bart and Silas have words. 'You shouldn't ’na left it to tempt him,' Silas had flung back at Bart. 'He doesn't know any better.'
'I'll be glad when Caleb gets back and gets his damn ape,' Bart had said in a raised voice as he'd stormed out of the pantry.
Well, Anthony thought, I'll be glad too, more so if Gabe is with him.
A slight breeze stirred, and then the wind picked up from the south. It rolled back the fog and only small patches remained, and then the remnants thinned and disappeared.
'Gunboats, gunboats to the larboard,' the lookout cal ed down.
'Luck,' Bart said, 'Iffen the wind had held they'd been among us ’fore we knowed it.'
Moffett was quick. He'd already given the order to beat to quarters, however, Earl on SeaWolf had already picked out targets and was firing.
The raiders were using galleys, not unlike those the Spanish or Algerians used. The boats carried two short masts and lateen sails with a minimum of canvas and cordage so they could be easily handled by untrained men. They were also pierced for sweeps which gave an added benefit for maneuverability. Each gunboat carried two great guns, one in the bow and one in the stern. Each could be elevated, lowered or transversed.
Most of the guns were thirty-two pounders, some even carried several swivels. Even though the vessels looked clumsy, they handled easy enough and each carried ninety to one-hundred men. More when needed for a cutting out expedition, such as in the close quarters as the Bay of Bundy.
Upon the sighting, Bart had rushed down and got Lord Anthony's weapons. 'Here's your sword and pistol,' he said, 'Looks like we's in for a bit ’o ’citment.'
'A hot bit it appears,' Anthony replied as one of the gun boats thirty-two pounders cut loose at close range.
'Pigeon and Audacity will never stand up to that. Captain Moffett!'
'Aye, my Lord.'
'How many gun boats are attacking?'
'The lookout has made out six, my Lord. Two forward, two astern and just forward of Merlin and two abeam. They're low in the water making our gunnery difficult.'
'A hit by gawd,' this from the masthead lookout.
'Two to one the gunner laid that himself,' Moffett exclaimed.
A sudden explosion and Warrior seemed to shudder.
Aft a large section of the taffrail had a huge gouge where the thirty-two pound bal had torn its ugly path.
'Luckily, no one was injured. He fired at extreme elevation,' Moffett said. 'He'd have done better shooting at the rudder instead of the mast.'
'Don't give the bugger's no ideas,' Bart cried.
'One's twixt SeaWolf and the convoy,' the lookout cried down.
'Mr. Herrod?'
'Aye, cap'n.'
'See if we can get a shot with the bowchaser.'
'Directly, sir.'
'Mr. Foxxe, Mr. Foxxe to the bow,' Herrod cal ed the gunner as he made his way forward.
'Look,' Anthony cried, 'Looks like Merlin has a hit.'
'Aye, Mr. Buck's done for that bugger, he has,' Bart said as he turned toward Anthony. '`Hit don't seem right, do it sir, ’usuns being by-standers and the like.'
'Got a touch of battle lust do you, Bart?'
'Aye, sir, guess I does. It's hard to be a sight-seer.'
'Don't fret my friend, you'll get your chance and with this fog and smoke it may be sooner than you think.'
'My Lord!'
'Yes, captain.'
'Foxxe hit the gunboat but they boarded the supply ship and have cut her out to starboard. Audacity has taken chase.'
'Very well, captain, by my count we've sunk three of the raiders. Where are the other three?'
'I'm not sure my Lord, between the ’fog of war' and nature's fog visibility is poor. The master swears he can hear the waves on the rocks to larboard so he's edgy.'
'Well, I'd like to not get any closer myself,' Anthony said. 'No telling what else they got waiting on us.' Moffett's fog of war was the gun smoke. The raiders thirty-two pounders gave off a tremendous amount of smoke. The heavy smell filling the air and burning one's eyes.
'Deck there, Pigeon's grappled with one of the raiders.'
'Damme,' Moffett shouted. 'Can you see the other raider?'
'No sir,' the lookout cal ed down.
'Should we send Merlin to assist my Lord?' Moffett asked.
'No, not without knowing where the other raider has gotten. The gunboat will not likely be able to traverse its cannons before it has to repel boarders. Let's just hope Mr. Kerry has his wits about him today.' While visibility was difficult, the din of battle was clearly heard between Pigeon and the raider. Musket shots, men's cries of anger turned into cries of pain. At moments the gleam of metal could be seen as a blade flashed through the air only to rise bloody.
'Captain Moffett? As we are almost on Pigeon send a couple of boats to assist Lieutenant Kerry. I'm sure Captain Dunlap would be more then willing to contribute a squad of marines.'
'Aye, my Lord, I'll see to it.'
