“They’re trying to smooth it over, but I’m telling you—be careful with ’em,” Saunders said. “So, will Congress make you stronger now?”
“Word is that Washington’s going to fund some new ships for us, but that’ll take years.” Wake shook his head. “Congress screams for us to do something to protect Americans around the world but hasn’t funded us even the fuel budget we need. Been that way since sixty-seven. Maybe it’ll change now. Time will tell.”
Saunders leaned forward. “What about you? Any word on promotion?”
“Been a regularly commissioned lieutenant now for eight years, but it’s hard to tell, Jonathan. I’m executive officer of Omaha and think that at the end of this ship assignment, in June next year, I may have a chance at promotion and/or command.”
“So how’s Omaha? What’s she doing? Any chance for glory?” Saunders asked.
“She’s assigned to the West Indies and a pretty good sailor. Her engine’s in good shape, but of course we’re prohibited from using it except for entering and leaving harbor. She’s got coal bunkers for only about a hundred fifty tons, which limits her anyway. We’ve been busy at the Spanish islands since September, so now we’ll sail around the other islands, show the flag, help the diplomats and merchants, keep the peace, that sort of thing. Glory part’s over now. Just routine patrol.”
“How about Sean Rork, that wild Irish bosun of yours?”
Wake laughed. “Ah, old Sean! Last I knew, he’s still aboard Alaska. They were here for a while during the war scare, but are in New York for repairs right now. Saw him in October. He told me he damn near didn’t survive the sinking of Oneida at Yokohama when that Brit steamer ran her down and fled the scene a couple of years ago. Wrote that he used up every one of his Gaelic oaths, but still lived through it. Floated on a plank and got picked up later.”
“And the old gunner’s mate? I forgot his name.”
“Durling. He’s ashore at Newport at the new torpedo station there. They took some of the gunners and made them specialize in the new torpedoes they’re working on, figuring that they already knew more about explosives than anyone else. But I hear he’s not happy—misses his beloved guns!”
“Gentlemen, I hate to interrupt all this talk of guns and death, but why don’t we order lunch and talk of something more tranquil?” said Cynda. “It’s far too pretty a day to talk about the navy.”
Exactly what Linda would’ve said, thought Wake. Linda had gotten to the point where she despised the navy and its cloud on their marriage, causing an unspoken rift to grow between them. He put that out of his mind and smiled. “I bow to your wisdom, ma’am. Let us talk of the future and of peaceful things, Jonathan.”
“Quite right, Peter,” agreed Saunders. “The war is over. Thank God. Let’s talk about making money from rum!”
“I do believe I’ll drink to that!” said Wake. He downed the sangria and signaled for more.
2
Future Plans
Two days later Omaha steamed east from San Juan into a twenty-knot wind and rising seas. Her nine-hundred-fifty-horsepower, horizontal-return-connecting-rod engine was pushing her at twelve knots, assisted a bit by her jibs and stay sails, but the senior engineer was warning of the fuel consumption and unaccustomed strain on the boilers. When Wake arrived on deck for his noon watch Captain Gardiner was already there, examining the northeast point of Puerto Rico through his binoculars.
“Mr. Wake, Cabezas de San Juan bears to the southwest about fifteen miles or so. What say you? Should we bear off and steer so’east? I’ve already used too much coal to get to this point, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let my ship get caught on a lee coast.”
Wake checked the bearing of the point, barely visible on the horizon, then the chart on the binnacle table. “Yes, sir. The wind is nor’nor’east to nor’east, so I would recommend that course.” His finger traced the projected route through the islands. “It should take us comfortably to the windward of Culebra’s reefs, through the Virgin Passage, around to the east of St. Croix, and down to Pointe de la Grande Vigie at Guadeloupe. I’m sure Omaha’ll be able to lee bow the current to Guadeloupe and we’ll be able to carry topsails and make at least eight or maybe even nine knots of speed. Once we make Guadeloupe we can tack back north into English Harbour at Antigua.”
“I see. About three days.”
“I concur, sir. We should be entering the harbor in the late afternoon on Wednesday.”
“Very well, Mr. Wake. Steer so’east, set topsails, and stop engine. Make it so,” Gardiner ordered as he turned to go to his cabin.
Ten minutes later the pounding rhythm of the engine slowed to a stop and the twin stacks blew off the remaining steam pressure, ejecting soot all over the sails and decks, which caused the deck division sailors to groan. They would have to clean it up right away. If left where it fell the soot would get tracked onto everything. But first the captain’s order to set topsails had to be implemented.
Omaha bore off to the southeast and the topmen raced aloft to set the topsails as other sailors on the main deck slacked the sheets and hauled away on the topsail halyards. Soon the ship was sailing up and over the long beam swells, coming alive with the wind humming in the rigging, the bow wave swishing past, and her timbers and bulwarks creaking.
Wake stood on the canted teak deck loving every minute of it,
