It was just down from the massive government building constructed a century earlier, when the legendary Nelson had been on the island. The government building was out of scale with the rest of the town, except for the magnificent Anglican church atop the hill that dominated the landscape. The town of St. John’s impressed Wake as clean and neat, with even the usual seaport ne’er-do-wells being polite.
A small emblem was all that identified the door as the American consulate. Once inside he found himself in a small room with a harried woman who introduced herself as the consul’s wife and apologized for her husband being late and the place being unswept. Wake took the offered tea and sat down to wait as the woman alternately yelled at unseen children upstairs and banged pots and pans in a back room.
Minutes later the room’s rear door burst open and a thin disheveled man with anxious eyes strode in, fixed his gaze on Wake, and announced he was Gustavius Williams.
“I am Lieutenant Peter Wake, executive officer of the U.S. naval ship Omaha, Mr. Williams. I am here in response to your note this morning.”
“You’re not the captain? I wanted the captain!”
“I regret to report that he is indisposed and couldn’t make it. I am here in his stead, sir. Now, how can we assist you? You alluded in your note you had important information to discuss.”
Williams glanced around the room. “I told the captain to come to this office, not send someone else.”
Wake clenched his jaw. He had met many consuls in various ports, but never one this strange. Or rude. It was time to explain who was who in the pecking order. “You don’t get to order a United States warship captain to do anything, Mr. Williams. You are allowed the privilege of asking them to assist you. Captain Gardiner sent me, so you’ll deal with me, or I’ll leave this office right now.”
Williams huffed and sat down at the plain desk, then riffled through some papers in a valise. “I suppose you’ll have to do then, but I hope you don’t fail to act properly.” Williams sighed. “I wanted the captain.”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Mr. Williams?”
Williams hunched down and leaned across the desk. “Secret warship—that’s what I’m talking about, Lieutenant. I know what’s going on at the naval station. When I was sent here last year they told me to be on the lookout for anything that could assist our country. Well, I’ve seen what they’re doing over there on that side of the island at English Harbour.” He winked at Wake and whispered. “And they don’t know that I know.”
The man in front of Wake looked and sounded to him like a fool that had read too many of the cheap adventure novels currently the rage in America. Nonetheless, he wondered if the man could actually be telling at least a particle of truth.
Wake leaned forward in his chair. “I see. What exactly did you uncover?”
“They got HMS Inconstant over there and somehow have her steaming at eighteen knots. They’re doing time trials off the station in deep water. One of the dockyard workers told a friend of mine that they are trying for twenty-one knots and think they can reach it within a week.”
Wake knew Inconstant was one of the Royal Navy’s newest and best ships. He had heard she was the fastest in their navy at over sixteen knots. But eighteen? And trying for twenty? Only light merchant ships could do that. “Eighteen knots? Really, Mr. Williams, no warship has done that speed. The fastest is sixteen. When did you get this information?”
“This morning. I went over there to talk to him because I knew our navy would want to know.”
“Yes, well, if true, this is indeed intriguing information. But please remember, Mr. Williams, that we are friends with Great Britain and not supposed to be spying on them. I don’t think it would bode well for you if the local authorities found out what you’ve been doing.”
“You don’t want to know what they’re doing?”
Wake thought for a moment. Yes, he did want to know, but without spying. It felt so unseemly to be doing that to the Royal Navy. Since the end of the war he had always considered them close allies. But eighteen knots? Hmm. “Yes. Send us the intelligence, but don’t use illicit means to get it. It’s not worth creating an incident over. Now, is there anything else going on, Mr. Williams?”
“Just the reception tonight at Government House,” said Williams, dejected. “I’ll be there too.”
“Very good, Mr. Williams. We are not in need of any harbor supplies or services so we won’t need your assistance on anything. This is merely a courtesy call, so tomorrow we’ll be weighing anchor. I’ll see you tonight at the reception.”
“Be sure and tell the captain what I told you!”
“With pleasure, Mr. Williams. I’ve got to go now. Please have the mail delivered aboard as soon as possible this morning.”
***
That evening Wake and Laporte attended the governor’s reception. It was an excruciatingly boring affair—until moments before the Americans were about to leave.
“We absolutely insist you stay over Christmas here with us, Lieutenant Wake. Give your crew some liberty, relax for a while. We are a very friendly island,” proclaimed a slightly tipsy Governor Habersham in a voice that could be heard well outside the building. Captain Stansell Warner, commandant of Naval Station Antigua, stood next to the portly governor, nodding his support.
“I’ll pass that along to my captain, sir,” replied Wake. “We are honored by your very kind offer. He will send a note ashore with an officer in response tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, really, Lieutenant. There’s no reason for you to go anywhere during this holiest of weeks,” said Warner. “In fact, I’d like to invite you and two other officers to a dinner at the naval station tomorrow night at five o’clock. We’ll provide carriage transportation to that
