are at quarters till dawn breaks,' Hazard volunteered. 'With your permission once we secure from quarters I thought we'd spend some time in sail drill, sir.'
'Very well. You're the first lieutenant, Mr. Hazard, proceed as you see fit,' Gabe answered. It hadn't been that long ago he'd been asking permission before undertaking any task. Gabe wanted Hazard to feel comfortable in his new station. It was not necessary for the first lieutenant to ask permission to carry out duties that were his responsibility and in the months since SeaWolf had been commissioned he'd grown with the task. No, Gabe had no complaints.
'Dagan!'
'Aye!'
'Let's go break our fast. It appears Mr. Hazard and Mr. Blake have everything under control,' Gabe said as he headed back to his cabin with Dagan trailing.
By the time Dawkins had poured coffee Hazard was putting the men through their drill.
'Ready ho! Put the helm down.'
Gabe could feel the bow begin to swing across the wind.
'Helms a lee, off tacks and sheets.'
Yes, Hazard was a seaman. Given time and patience Gabe would have a fine first lieutenant.
Chapter Two
Blasted down by bleak winds, howling at times, heavy rain, then snow and bitter cold, Admiral Lord Anthony and his handful of ships dipped deep into the angry Atlantic swells then fought to rise through the trough, only to dip again, creaking and groaning as living things, heaving through wave after wave.
Lord Anthony shivered as he stood on the quarterdeck of his flag ship Warrior. He was tempted to go below to his cabin but knew there'd be little relief from the cold other than Warrior's wooden walls. In this weather not even the galley fires were lit. As bad as it was on Warrior, Anthony knew it had to be worse on the ketch Pigeon, and cutter, Audacity. Buck would be better off on Merlin which was a thirty-two gun frigate. Damme he hated the cold, Lord Anthony thought to himself. How he'd love to be back in the West Indies.
Thinking of the West Indies, Anthony's thoughts naturally drifted to Gabe. He could see him now, putting SeaWolf through her paces. He missed Gabe but knew he had to give him the opportunity to advance. He'd never be able to do that tied to an admiral's coat-tail.
'Colder'n well digger's arse, ain't it sir?'
'Ah, Bart. I'm surprised you've torn yourself away from Silas's coffee. Did it get cold or did it run out?'
'Well, sir, ’twas a little of both, it be. Silas say's if you're to enjoy it afore the heats all gone to come on down. Otherwise, he'll be taking an ice pick to it.'
'Very well, I'll be right down. Bart!'
'Aye, sir.'
'My compliments to the captain. Will he take a cup with me if convenient?'
'Aye, sir, I'll see to it,' Bart replied as he snuggled his coat tighter about his ears and went to deliver Lord Anthony's message.
'Good morning, Lord Anthony.'
'Dutch! Have a seat. Silas has wrapped a hot brick to the coffee pot and is unwrapping it now.
He says it's only lukewarm but maybe it'll be stimulating.'
'Aye, my Lord, Silas's coffee usually is,' Dutch Moffett, Anthony's flag captain, replied, thinking of his first cup of Silas's coffee which had been liberally laced with brandy.
'Looks like the blow will last all the way to Halifax, my Lord. The master says it'll be another two or three days before this lets up.'
'Huh,' Anthony replied. 'I don't know what's worse. Being roasted in New York 's harbour or freezing in the Atlantic.'
'Well, my Lord, I'm told freezing is less painful.'
'Have you ever asked anyone that's been burned alive or frozen to death, Dutch?'
'No, my Lord, I can't say as I have,' Dutch answered smiling.
'Then we don't really know, do we?' Lord Anthony quipped. 'And I'd rather not learn from experience.'
'No, my Lord, neither would I. Speaking of New York, my Lord, they found that contraption that created such a commotion. It's called a submersible or a submarine. One man fits inside and uses a hand crank that turns a propeller that pushes the contraption through the water. A torpedo was attached to a harpoon and driven into the targets hull. Then a fuse is lit. When a signal was given the contraption was hauled away by a party ashore using a tow line attached to its stern.
The torpedo fuses were cut at different lengths to give the devil time to do his handiwork before anyone knew something was amiss.'
'Not an honorable way to fight a war is it, Dutch?'
'Nay, my Lord but one has to recognize the genius behind such a scheme.'
'Oh, I do recognize that and a lot more as well, especially after my conversation with General Clinton. The Army is treating this war more as an outing than a war. Admiral Shuldham is being sent back to England. Rumor has it Admiral Lord Howe is taking over as Commander-in-Chief, Naval forces.
'I understand Admiral Graves is to be Lord Howe's second and he's to be in charge until Lord Howe arrives.'
'Maybe when Lord Howe arrives we will get reinforcements.'
'Aye, my Lord, we need them. Twenty-nine ships to patrol eighteen hundred miles of coast from Florida to Nova Scotia. That's a tall order for our entire fleet. It's impossible with our measly twenty-nine ships, most of which are unrated.'
'I know Dutch.'
'Bart!'
'Aye, my Lord.'
'Have the flag lieutenant bring me those dispatches.'
'Right away, sir.'
'Dreaming of some lass from home are we, sir?'
Lieutenant Francis Markham had been sitting at the wardroom table staring at an empty cup and daydreaming when Bart had stuck his head in the door to deliver his lordship's summons. The wardroom was generally off limits to the crew, but the officers on board Warrior soon learned 'the Admiral's cox'n' pretty much came and went as he pleased.
The fifth lieutenant feeling his prowess in his shiny new uniform had once made the mistake of ordering Bart to report to the bosun for extra duty as he had appeared to have an abundance of time on his hands.
Bart had been sitting aft on the bulwark smoking his pipe. Lord Anthony overhearing the upstart called to his flag captain, 'I say Captain Moffett would you be so kind as to remind the fifth lieutenant he'd be better suited tending to his duties than interfering in the affairs of my staff?'
'Aye, my Lord. Mr. Johns!'
'Yes, captain.'
'Did you hear his Lordship?'
'Aye, captain.'
'Do I have to say more?'
'No, captain.'
'Let's hope not you damn imbecile. Can't you see his coat's gilted with more gold than you'll ever wear?'
'No, sir, I mean I didn't at the time but I do now, sir.'
'Very well then Mr. Johns. Go see the first lieutenant with my compliments and tell him how you're to be
