The French Admiral

There was some reward, even so; to stand on deck when everything was running smoothly, hands behind his back and rocking on the balls of his feet, feeling Desperate surge along with a tremble and hum of wind and sea on her rigging and hull, totally under his control. Four hundred and fifty tons of warship, worth more than twelve thousand pounds; aboard were twenty pieces of artillery, over one hundred fifty lives, and it was, for intervals, all his to command.

Another joy was to simply finish the middle watch, see the first hint of dawn, pipe up hands from below, sign the log, and turn things over to Railsford without incident. There might be a single grunt of satisfaction that he had done what was required without killing anyone, or sinking the ship in the process, or tearing the masts right out of her. Usually, there would be a quick conference aft as the hands knelt to scrub decks forward, and Railsford or Treghues would give him a critique on the night's work—what he had done right and what he had done wrong. And so far, there had been enough right things to counterbalance the few wrong.

Another change was in the way he was remonstrated; no more being bent over a gun for a dozen strokes of a stiffened rope starter, no more tongue lashings. The cobbings were short, to the point and were couched as admonitions from a senior officer to a junior officer, done out of hearing from the hands so his authority with the crew would not suffer.

When he began, he thought he had been prepared for standing watch by his stint in the schooner Parrot but he realized that that period had been all play and schoolwork. Lieutenant Kenyon, Parrot's master and commmander, had assigned Lewrie and the late Thad Purnell together to do the work of a single adult, with senior bosun's mates or quartermasters to act as a safety net should they run into trouble someone to prompt them into the right answer, keep them out of real difficulty, and keep their playfulness in check.

Desperate was not schoolwork, and there was no one to turn to as tutor in the night watches; he was the lone man with no one to backstop him. If he failed at this, he would never get another chance, so he took a round turn and two half hitches, as one said in naval parlance, and tried to begin to act like the sea-officer they expected him to be, and the sea-officer he aspired to be.

They sweated blood to make it in past Cape Fear (it was not named Fear for nought, after all) and into the river between the true coast and the long peninsula. If anything, it looked even more desolate than most stretches of the southern American coast, low barrier islands with only sea oats and dune grass, low forests of wind-sculpted pines on the banks, and the salt-grass marshes stretching off to either hand, with only swamp behind. Desperate could, by staying to the middle of the channel, just barely make it upriver, and that took real skill. With a tide running in, they could ride the flood, but would have no control over the helm. They had reefed tops'ls, jibs and spanker set, with a light wind off the great curve of Onslow Bay that gave them just enough forward momentum to give the rudder a bite, but not so much speed that they could run into trouble before dropping a kedge-anchor from the stern if they took the ground on the mud and sand shoals.

'Point ta starboard, quartermaster, put your helm ta loo'ard, handsomely, now,' Monk cautioned.

'Five fathom, five fathom to starboard!' the bosun's mate in the foremast chains chanted.

'Sonofa…' Monk growled, wanting to stand on, but worried about shoaling. Off to larboard, there was an eddy that swirled as though the tidal flood was caressing something substantial, which he had just altered course to avoid.

'That's a back eddy, Mister Monk,' Alan said, remembering how the current would spin about in the Cape Fear River from his earlier voyages in Parrot. 'Lieutenant Kenyon said there was no harm in it, and we stood in quite close to it.'

'Aye, but what'd ya draw in yer schooner?' Monk asked, working on a quid of tobacco so vigorously it made Alan's jaws ache to watch him.

'A foot over one fathom, sir. But the main channel was far off to the larboard, ran right up alongside Eagle Island.'

'Aye, if yer a coaster,' Monk said. 'The Thoroughfare, they calls it, but it's too shallow fer the likes o' us.'

'And a half four.'

'Helm aweather half a point,' Monk said compromising.

'Six fathom, six fathom on this line,' the larboard man called.

'Aye,' Monk went on, puffing with relief to find deep water. 'I s'pose ya know the main channel's on the west side, 'least 'til ya get ta Old Town Creek an' the Dram Tree?'

He pointed out a huge bearded cypress on the right bank farther upriver. 'Bad shoal at Old Town Creek. Mosta the big ships don't go no further than Campbell Island an' the Dram Tree. Sailors take a dram afore hoistin' sail fer a long voyage from the Cape Fear. What's Campbell Island bear now?'

'Two points to larboard, sir.'

'Captain, my respects, an' once past Campbell Island, I suggest we do anchor.'

'Very well, Mister Monk,' Treghues said lazily. 'We'll round up into the wind, let go the best bower and back the mizzen tops'l to let the wind and tide end her up bows downriver. Mister Coke?'

'Aye, sir?' the bosun said.

'I'll not let her fall back too far from the bower, mind. Hang the kedge in the cutter and row her out to drop. Veer out half a cable aft and a half cable forrard. Take Mister Avery with one of your mates.'

'Aye, sir.'

Lewrie cast a glance at David Avery standing by the quarterdeck nettings overlooking the waist. Much like the change in attitude when Keith Ashburn had been made an acting lieutenant into Glatton, the squadron flagship when Alan's first ship Ariadne was condemned, it seemed as if a friendship was being tested once more. In the past, it had been Keith Ashburn who had placed the distance between them to protect the authority of his new commission. Here, it was Avery who was distancing himself from Lewrie, finding it difficult to say 'Alan' instead of 'Mr. Lewrie' or 'sir,' even in the mess. There did not seem to be any animosity, even though Avery had been in the Navy over four years and was still a midshipman, while Alan had risen like a comet to an acting mate in a little less than two. He was still friendly, but no longer close, and Alan regretted it. And there was little he could do about it without stepping out of role and playing favorites. Railsford had warned him of that one night when he had come on deck to catch a breeze. Best do it now, he had said, before new midshipmen come aboard, and you have no bad habits to break.

When they did receive new midshipmen, Alan and the new master's mate who would be appointed into Desperate would have to rule the mess, supervise the newlies, and keep order without playing favorites. It was sad, all the same, just another slice of naval life Alan detested.

'Mister Railsford, round her up into the wind, if you would be so kind, and bring her to,' Treghues finally ordered. Desperate swung about in a tight turn, her helm hard over until her bows were pointed for the sea she had left. At a sharp arm gesture, the bower dropped into the water with a great splash and she began to pay off upriver, driven by tide and sea breeze on her backed mizzen tops'l, while everything else was handed or taken in by the topmen and fo'c's'le-men. They spent half an hour rowing out the kedge-anchor from the stern, letting her go and winching the ship forward onto her bower; they lashed the heavy cable to the mooring bitts and hauled in on the kedge-cable until they had her firmly moored in the river fore and aft. The shallow coasters they had escorted in had to take what moorings they could, since Desperate, as leading ship up channel, had taken the best mooring for herself, and devil take the hindmost.

'Mister Railsford, now we've the cutter free, my compliments to you, and would you depute for me ashore with Major Craig concerning his plans for evacuation. There are orders from General Leslie in Charleston to convey, as well,' Treghues drawled.

'I should be delighted, sir.'

'Um, excuse me, sir,' Alan said.

'Aye, Mister Lewrie?' Treghues asked, turning to face him.

'If you would not mind, sir, I should like to go ashore with the first lieutenant,' Alan said.

'Not ten days into your new rating, and you think you have earned a right to caterwaul through the streets of this unfortunate town?' The captain frowned. 'You disappoint me, Mister Lewrie. I had thought you had learned your lesson about debauchery.'

'Not debauchery, sir.' Alan gaped in a fair approximation of shock, or what he hoped would pass for it. 'It is the Chiswick family, sir. You mind them, the officers that came off Jenkins Neck with me? Their family is here in