“I agree. But to be honest. It wasn’t the ships I was speaking of.” James looked over, meeting her gaze.
“Captain I…” Lilith started to reply but her words cut short by a lookout up in the crow’s nest.
“Sail HO! Captain, a ship outside the bay!”
H.M.S Valor
14 Sept 1808
18 Degrees 2’ N, 76 Degrees 6’ W
“Man overboard! You there, a lifeline and be quick about it!” shouted a petty officer at the rail. A sailor from aloft had lost his footing when the Valor was rocked by a wave and had fallen. Luckily, the man did not fall onto the deck of the ship missing by only a few feet. Sailors scrambled to get a line out to save their shipmate. The fallen sailor’s head bobbed up the crest of a wave, he was only a few feet off the side of the Valor and just out of arms reach below the rail. When the line was thrown, it hit the water trailing just in front of him. Will had run to the side of the ship along with the rest of the crew on deck. The movement of the Valor drug the line away from grasp just before the man could reach it.
“Another line! Hurry men! Get a line out on the stern!” William shouted. In a flash of lightning Will could see a large swell approaching the side of the Valor. In an instant it hit, before Will could warn anyone, the wave smashed into the side of the frigate battering everyone on board and causing another man climbing down from the rigging to fall. He was not so lucky as the first, hitting the deck of the storm-tossed ship with a sickening thud. Blood spattered the men standing near as he hit the deck and mixed with the seawater still frothing across the ship. Midshipman Ordman stood over the man’s body, mouth agape, face twisted by fear and shock. Around him, a flurry of activity continued, but Ordman was frozen. He was the officer of the watch and had ordered the crew aloft to reef and tie the top gallants, now one man was swimming for his life and another likely dead. Will watched as the man overboard swam furiously for a grasp at the second lifeline, he missed the end of the line by mere inches. Another line at the stern drug by him, but the force of the waves was pulling him farther away from the ship. Each lunge the man attempted seemed to just barely miss. Sailor aboard the Valor screamed out encouragements to him, they started at the rail on the side of the ship and each time he missed a grab they yelled for him to keep trying. Eventually, the men were shouting over the fantail of the ship back at the man. His swim pace had gone from frantically racing at first, slowing as he tired and as the Valor slipped further and further away until he surrendered to just fighting to keep his head above the water.
Ordman’s distraught look betrayed his thoughts, Will knew exactly what the young officer was about to say. One man was likely dead, he would order the ship around and attempt to save the other. Will stepped over to say something to Ordman, trying to prevent him from making an order he shouldn’t. But before he could Ordman shouted out,
“Bring her about, helmsman hard a larboard. We have to rescue him!” Ordman yelled.
“Belay that order! Hold your course man!” Will interrupted, grabbing Ordman’s coat by the shoulder he turned the Midshipman towards him. “Don’t make a bad situation worse by panicking. He is lost to the sea lad, that’s the truth of it. We can’t endanger the entire ship by attempting to turn her around in this weather.” Ordman looked at Will with sullen and defeated eyes, he was out of his depth in the storm and losing two of the crew was only compounding his missteps. The ship lurched forward again, lightening split the sky revealing both fearful and somber looks across the deck. Kingston was their destined port, but until the storm died all William could ask was to hold course and try to keep the Valor upright. It was by far the most severe weather he had ever sailed in. Wind and wave battered the ship and tested the crew. Interspersed by flashes of lightning, the darkness of night with no moon or stars quickly became disorienting. Lanterns that went out had to be taken below deck to be relit on account of the wind. The night drug on slowly, watch change brought no rest for the sailors being relieved. Below decks smelled of sickness as stomachs spilled into buckets or onto deck boards. Even the saltiest sea hands were fighting motion sickness and panic below decks.
Captain Grimes made a tour through the ship shortly after midnight. On deck he visited with the officer on watch, shouted words over the brunt gusts of wind under hats dripping from rain and seawater. They were keeping the Valor perpendicular to the swells and maintaining a westerly course as best they could, the officer assured him. Grimes calculated their land sighting would come just after dawn, but he made the climb up to the lookout anyway, just to ensure they remained alert through the difficult conditions. Climbing back down to the deck proved treacherous and difficult even for an experienced man like Johnathan Grimes, the motion of the ship was greatly exaggerated at height above the deck and the ratlines were all soaked through from the driving rain. Grimes made his way below and checked through the officer berthing, seeing to it the officers fresh off watch were taking rest as best they could. Then he made his way down into the hold, checking on the men working the bilge baffles and seeing to the carpenter’s mate as he took measurement of the standing water in the hold.
“What are we at?” Grimes
