On the horizon to the west, unnoticed by any soul on the deck of the Gazelle, sails appeared on the horizon with the eastern coast of Jamaica stretching out behind them. The sailors aloft in the rigging took notice and began to split their attention between the battle unfolding on deck and the sails moving against the backdrop of the island. When the two ships closest unfurled their black banners, the four men up in the rigging sounded down to the deck with alarm, “Pirates! Two of those ships out there are flying the black!”
The three remaining sailors on deck took to the rail, cautiously watching for an attack from the Africans. LeMeux passed friend and foe alike to run to the bow of the ship, looking out over the expanse of sea separating them from the spotted ships. One look confirmed, the two ships closest to them were flying black banners. Though they were miles from the nearest one, the sound of echoing cannon fire floated in against the breeze at their backs. For a moment everyone on the Gazelle looked out of the water, seeing more sails appear from a cove in the island shore.
“Whoever wins that fight, it won’t matter for us. If we get caught up by either side, we are doomed!” one of the sailors in the rigging shouted down. “We need to get this tub sailing somewhere else!”
“If those are the Royal Navy...” LeMeux began to reply.
“You’ll be hanged as a mutineer, use your head man!” the sailor cut him off. “Take the helm and get us turned, hard a larboard. We can sort out what to do with the ship away from here, with our heads still attached to our bodies and our necks not in a noose.”
The doctor made his way to the helm and began making a hard turn. The Gazelle lurched with the turning of the wheel. Off in the distance the reports of cannon fire continued while a front of dark clouds crept slowly across the southern skies. For the moment an uneasy truce seemed to settle in on the Gazelle, each of the African captives weary to let down their guard and the sailors cautiously returned to the business of handling the ship.
Chapter 7
H.M.S Valor
15 Sept 1808
18 Degrees 2’ N, 76 Degrees 16’ W
The H.M.S Valor had turned hard southward just off the baby opening, her guns run out, men all at their battle quarters awaiting further orders. Below deck Lieutenant Shelton’s voice could be heard, “Steady now men, hold fire, no wasted shots.” Grimes took a small moment of joy, his father would have been proud of the lad, he thought to himself. Looking out over the larboard rail, Captain Grimes could see the approaching ships, their black flags billowing in the wind. Off the stern of the Valor, Admiral Sharpe’s fleet lay at anchor within the bay. At first sighting, Johnathan had been relieved to see friendly ships who could aid him in an engagement. After reconciling charts and the size of the bay opening, with the direction the wind was blowing, he soon realized there was no way for the ships to exit the bay. At low tide they could only traverse the center of the bay opening without risking running even one of the frigates aground. With the wind coming stiff from the east an attempt to do so would put the ship ‘In Irons’, headlong into the wind with no way to propel themselves forward. The tide was on its way in, but by the time there was enough depth to traverse the mouth of the bay at angle the engagement would likely be over, for better or worse. They could offer fire support from their cannons, but with no maneuver capability they weren’t much better than helpless bystanders, especially if the enemy vessels kept out of their fields of fire. To complicate matter further, the damage the Valor had sustained in the previous nights’ storm rendered her at a significant disadvantage in maneuverability. Something Johnathan would sorely need trying to engage two ships who had the advantage of the wind. Their options were limited and narrowing with every passing moment. Glancing over at Lieutenant Pike by his side, Grimes steeled himself for the coming engagement.
“William, the rest of the fleet is wind locked in that bay at least until high tide. Even then they will present a nice target until they have full wind out in open water. I suspect Admiral Sharpe will attempt to provide us some aiding cannon fire, but we should presume nothing. If they bear southward, as I believe they will, we will need the fastest broadsides our gun crews have ever put out.” Grimes rattled his orders.
“Aye Sir. We are in sight of the Endurance, shall I have any signal flags run up?” Lieutenant Pike asked.
“Yes, signal the flagship to inquire after tea lad.” Grimes said flatly.
“I’m sorry Sir. Did you say tea?” Will asked, twisting his face in confusion.
“Yes lad. Tea, and let me know the response. That will be all Lieutenant.” Grimes answered.
