Seaflower

Doud gave a knowing smile, passed the lanniard loosely through the two hearts and tied off before straightening. 'We has a new owner,' he announced importantly.

'Does we indeed?' Kydd said, with interest, looking around for Renzi, but he had gone below. 'An' what happened t' Cap'n Farrell, may I ask?'

'Been an' got his step. You calls him 'Commander' now, cock.' He stepped aside to let his two men finish bowsing in on the lanniard and added, 'In course he's too grand fer this little barky, gets a sloop-o'-war or some such, I wouldn't wonder.' In the matter of prize money alone, Seaflower had become a valuable unit for the Admiral, and her captain had proved he was lucky in this regard. With a larger ship he could do even better.

'Do we know then who's to have Seaflower?

'We don't, but we're gonna find out this afternoon,' Doud said. 'Due aboard three bells, I heard. We'se t' priddy the decks an' set all a-taunto.'

Kydd slapped Doud's arm and hurried below to shift into his loose, sea-going rig. The master was visibly pleased to see him. 'Ye know our new cap'n, Mr Jarman?' asked Kydd.

'I do. L'tenant Swaine, Admiral's staff - comes aboard at three bells.'

Kydd was puzzled by his laconic reticence, but put it down to disappointment at the departure of the patrician Farrell. 'Are we ready f'r sea?' he enquired. As quartermaster he was responsible for stowage of stores. Jarman told him in full detail: in essence, within a day they could be ready for whatever task Seaflower was called upon to perform.

Renzi seemed a little preoccupied when Kydd passed on the news of the name of their new captain. All Kydd could learn for him was that Renzi had seen Lieutenant Swaine, on the Admiral's staff in Spanish Town.

At three bells, Seaflower was ready for her new captain, with her boatswain's mate, Stiles, in his hat with the ship's name picked out in gold on a red background, and Luke, the sideboy, complete with white gloves, standing at the ship's side. Jarman, as senior, stood waiting on the tiny quarterdeck in his best uniform, with Merrick close at hand.

They waited. It was a grey day, the rain catching them unawares at one point, and the muggy heat afterwards was a trial — and still they waited. At five bells Merrick went below and Luke sat on the deck. Kydd was not required but he joined others standing about, curious to see their new commander.

At seven bells, as the late-afternoon sun put in an appearance, there was a stir on the shore. A dockyard wherry put off, a single occupant in the sternsheets. Jarman growled a warning and the side party reassembled. The boat bumped alongside, and an officer in cocked hat and sword stepped aboard. A piercing single blast from Stiles greeted him. Until he read his commission, this officer was not entitled to be piped aboard. Jarman removed his hat and stood attentively.

'Lieutenant Swaine, to be captain of this vessel,' said the officer formally.

'Aye, sir,' said Jarman. 'William Jarman, master, and might I present Mr Merrick, bo'sun.' Swaine lifted his hat briefly to each, then stepped quickly to the centre of the deck, pulling out a parchment. In a monotone he 'read himself in', the sonorous phrases rendered flat and uninspiring by the lack of inflection and speed of their delivery - but it was sufficient; Lieutenant Swaine was now indisputably captain of HMS Seaflower.

Carefully folding the parchment, he placed it back inside his coat. For a moment his eyes passed over the neat decks of the cutter, then he turned to Jarman. 'Carry on, please.' But he made no move to go to his cabin: instead, he stepped over to the side of the deck. The wherry had not shoved off, but lay alongside, and Swaine stood at the deck edge, with a frown deepening on his face. Merrick hastened over to the side with a mumbled apology - it was the last thing to be expected, that the Captain would be off ashore just as soon as he had come aboard.

'I desire that the longboat call for me at the careening wharves at nine — no, make that ten. Have you trusties enough to man?'

Merrick flicked a glance at Jarman before responding stolidly, 'We're all volunteers in Seaflower, sir.'