money problems, pregnant wives, sick children, aged parents - a seaman could rarely do anything to help any of them because he was a quarter of the hemisphere away, or about to sail from Britain.
It was a chilly morning but a clear sky warned of a scorching day. Dawn was coming fast - soon they would beable 'to see a grey goose at a mile', so the lookouts would then go aloft and the rest would stand down from quarters. Ramage had not passed the mainmast before he discovered one thing: the men who had been on shore at the semaphore station for several days were still bubbling over about it: to them walking on grass once again, being able to compete with each other to see who could hurl a stone the farthest, even swimming from the beaches (though few of them could actually swim, most of them enjoyed ducking their heads under) had been like special leave.
He cursed the mistral: but for the need to sail for those three days he would have been able to rotate the men so that all had a chance to stay on shore.
The two guns on one side and the three on the other dismounted by the falling yard were all back on their carriages again, although two on each side were hauled up to the centreline clear of the space where Lewis and his mates were working.
Already Ramage could smell the hot glue and the yard, now lying fore and aft, was once again a continuous piece. Every foot or so there were a dozen turns of rope, each with a handspike stuck in it. Lewis had used handspikes for the Spanish windlasses of rope clamping the two pieces of yard tightly together while the glue set. There was not a man within several feet of the yard: the carpenter's mates were busy preparing long planks - Lewis would call them battens - to fish the yard. They would be laid along where it had been glued, overlapping the length of the split, and eventually completely encircling it, like many splints supporting a broken leg. The fishes or battens would sit on 'flats' specially planed along the curved surface of the yard and be held in position by bolts and nails.
Lewis saw Ramage coming and, running his fingers through his hair after rubbing his hands down the sides of his trousers to remove some of the glue, stood ready to report.
Ramage eyed the repair so far. There was enough daylight now to see the runs of glue from where the two split pieceshad been fitted together. Plenty of glue had dripped on to the deck planking, too, which would later need holystoning, but he could see very little damage from the spar's fall. The lifts must have held each side just long enough to make the two halves swing down like pendulums, rather than crash down as though rolled off a cliff.
The black objects, several feet long and narrow, like giant corkscrews, were augers, and after Lewis saluted he pointed to them.
'All going well, sir; so far I think we're even a bit ahead o' ourselves. Got her glued up and held by them Spanish windlushes and as soon as we got enough light to sight 'em, we go in with the augers and drill for the bolts. The armourer's mate's goin' to cut a few more bolts down to size (I got almost all I need that fit; just short of six) as soon as we can get the galley fïre going to give him 'eat.'
Ramage watched as Lewis showed where he had marked the positions for the bolts. 'They'll be set into the wood so they won't chafe nothing, and anyway the woolding will cover 'em.'
'You can't hoop it, I suppose?'
Lewis shook his head. 'We just don't have the iron 'oops, sir. Nothing I'd like better than drive an 'ot iron 'oop every three feet; that'd set it up like a new spar. No, sir, it'll 'ave to be woolding. Not that there's anything wrong with that, sir', he added hastily. 'These 'ere blacksmiths swear by 'ot 'oops but I b'aint so sure. 'Ere, sir', he said confidentially, taking a pace nearer and dropping his voice, 'it's on account of rust.'
'Is that so?' a startled Ramage replied.
'Yus, sir. They 'oop masts and spars now as a matter o' course when they make 'em, but once there's a few coats of paint on the 'oops, yer can't see what's goin' on underbeneath. But I seen it, sir; I seen masts and yards where, when they've got the 'oops off, underbeneath it's been rusting away for years and the 'oops is thin as paper. As paper', he repeated disgustedly. 'I ask yer, sir, what's thegood o' 'oops like that? Might just as well put on a few pages of the Morning Post like a winding sheet and paint it over.
'No, sir', Lewis said firmly, 'wooldin's the answer, and it stand to reason. With 'oops you can't see what's going on underbeneath - and that rust makes the 'oops swell, too. I've seen some that the rust has swelled so much they've split orf by theirselves. But with wooldin', you can see.
'First you use good stretched rope. It's bin used so you know it's strong an' sound. You nail one end to the yard and then start passin' it round, 'eaving a good strain on it, and nailing. That way a nail every couple o' feet 'olds the strain you've 'eaved, and by the time you got six or eight turns on and nailed, you've got that spar gripped better than with an 'oop and now, sir, you tell me the two big advantages you've got over the 'oop.'
Ramage could see more than two, but it seemed unfair to spoil the climax of Lewis's exposition. 'You tell me', he said cautiously.
'Well, sir, stands to reason. 'Ow many turns have you got on, eh?'
'Let's say eight.'
'Right, sir. Diameter of the rope used - say one inch. Eight turns of rope lying side by side and well nailed down means that bit of wooldin' is at least eight inches wide and is 'olding eight times the breakin' strain of the rope. And 'ow wide is an 'oop?'
Ramage was saved having to guess by Lewis's exultant, 'You see, sir, stands to reason. But' - he held up an admonitory finger - 'that's only one of the advantages. The other one - and by my reckonin' it's the greatest one - is that you can go along every few months and check it over. You give the wooldin' a good bang with a mallet and you'll soon see if the rope's still sound and the nails 'oldin' in the wood. Not like an 'oop 'iding its weakness under coats of paint.'
'So woolding it is', Ramage said, knowing that he would be there for half an hour if he let Lewis carry on. The man talked sense and Ramage would have happily listened to hiswisdom for the rest of the day - if the foreyard was not lying on the deck beside them.
'Ah', Lewis said, 'that be light enough to start drilling for them bolts. If you'll excuse me, sir - now, Butcher, let's start turning them augers.'
By nine o'clock, with the sun just beginning to get some warmth in it, Ramage heard a clattering of metal and looked forward from the quarterdeck to see the armourer's mate emptying a sack of bolts at Lewis's feet beside the foreyard. The carpenter bent down, picked up one of the bolts and examined it critically. He looked round for a heavy hammer, went over to the first of the holes drilled right through the yard and the fish on each side, and pressed in the first two or three inches of the bolt, motioning to the armourer's mate to hold it steady while he swung the hammer, which had a handle five feet long.
The rest of the carpenter's mates stopped to watch and, at an order from the carpenter, leaned against the yard to steady it, standing alternately. The armourer's mate held the bolt at arm's length, obviously afraid one of the carpenter's blows would miss, glance off and hit him.
The carpenter struck one blow, and then called to one of his men, who had a jar of Stockholm tar and a brush. He dabbed the bolt with tar and after each blow with the hammer wetted the bolt and wood again.
As the bolt drove into the wood one of the mates crouched down to watch for the other end to emerge. He had to make sure that the wood did not split and that the lower fish was held securely by the turns of the Spanish windlasses, even though the glue had not yet set hard.
'Here she comes!' he called, and at once the carpenter began delivering lighter strokes. 'An inch to go ... end's level ... out half an inch and no splitting...'
The carpenter dropped the hammer with the proud gesture of a skilled craftsman: other and lesser men could drive the remaining bolts now he had shown them how itshould be done, and then clench the lower ends over the big washers, or roves, so that each bolt became a great rivet.
Already the bosun was cutting lengths of rope, each one long enough to go round the yard eight times, and his mates were busy putting whippings on each end to prevent the strands unlaying. Several men with chisels and gouges were cutting grooves round the yard just deep enough for the rope to lie in for a third of its diameter, but because of the fishes the grooves need be only along the edges of the planks. Lying ready were piles of copper nails, awls to drill the holes in the wood and fids to make holes through the whole rope, rather than let the copper nails drive down between the strands.
Southwick came up the quarterdeck ladder after a tour of inspection and reported to Ramage: 'He'll have finished it by noon, sir: a good man, Lewis; he's got a sense of order. Prepares things so that as he finishes one part the next one is ready.'
'One of those bolts could make a bad split if it's a fraction too big or the hole bored too small', Ramage said. Td like to see Lewis drive them all.'
Southwick nodded. 'Aye, sir, that's the one thing that really could set us back a day. I'll go down and tell him.'
As the master left, Ramage looked astern gloomily. It did not seem possible that fifteen ships could occupy so much space: they were spread from a mile astern of the Calypso - that was the Sarazine - in a vast semicircle to the horizon. As soon as Lewis has driven those bolts, Ramage vowed, the Calypso would be forcing them into the formation described in the orders that Orsini had delivered to each master.
Martin was the officer of the deck and it was Orsini's watch. Martin was proving a very competent watchkeeper and Ramage was thankful that his next letter to Gianna would still be able to give Paolo honest praise because he was (apart from mathematics) improving almost daily.
Ramage guessed that both youngsters were giving impatient glances astern, waiting for the captain to turn the Calypso back to crack the whip round the merchant ships. Neither of them appreciated that for the time being it did notmatter; what mattered was that an unexpected roll did not upset the foreyard, which could not be chocked up, shored up, roped down, wedged or lashed too tightly at this stage because it was important that when drilled and bolted it was in its natural shape. In an emergency, yes, it would be worth risking bolting in a slight bend, but at this stage with the convoy at least following, albeit like sheep ambling across a field in search of fresh grass, and no risk of an enemy, good formation did not really matter. Not, Ramage realized, that he could say such a thing out loud in front of his offïcers.
'We could do with the Passe Partout now, sir', Orsini said cautiously. As a rule midshipmen did not initiate conversations with captains, and Paolo was more than anxious that he should not appear to take advantage of the fact that the Marchesa was his aunt. The result was, of course, that he spoke to the captain less than if he had been a complete stranger.
'We could also do with another frigate', Ramage said sourly.
'But in these light airs, sir, a tartane...'
Ramage gave a sniff that he was sure Southwick would envy; a perfect blend of understanding Paolo's motives in making the remark, a superior knowledge of the sailing ability of tartanes in general and the Passe Partout in particular, and some information that Paolo did not possess.
'If I was the master of the Sarazine', Ramage said, 'I don't think I'd be bothered by any tartane in my wake.'
'But she has swivels, sir. Three-pounder shot whistling round your ears...'
'And the Sarazine has 9-pounders, and a stem that could cut the Passe Partout in half without scraping any paint...'
'Yes, sir', Paolo agreed regretfully. 'Still, the Passe Partout is keeping well up; she's only one ship astern of the Sarazine.'
'I've noticed that', Ramage said heavily. 'Fetch me the French signal book: it is in the binnacle drawer.'
Ramage glanced at it to check a signal, and said: 'Mr Martin - hoist the French signal for 'The convoy is to take up close formation at once', and fire a gun to draw attention to it. Leave it hoisted until I give the word.' He handed the signal book to the lieutenant, pointing out the flags.
Three minutes later, with the flags hoisted, one of the Calypso's sternchase guns was fired. The smoke drifted forward over the quarterdeck and as it cleared Ramage looked at the French ships with his glass, shut it with a snap, and said to Martin: 'I'm going to my cabin. Pass the word if those mules pay any attention to the
