CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A low, heaving rolling of thunder that grew with intensity boomed from the southeastern horizon. Standing by the fife rail, Gabe looked to the master.

Catching Gabe’s look, Hayes replied, “Aye, Captain. Someone’s in for a blow. Should have blown itself out before we close, however.”

Not one to doubt the master, Gabe nevertheless felt a pang of anxiety as the heavy Atlantic rollers crashed into Trident’s hull on the larboard side, occasionally sending spray on board.

The smell of cooked beef drifted along the deck. Looking forward, Gabe could see a small plume of smoke from the galley funnel dissipate on the wind. The smell of food caused his stomach to growl.

“What’s that, sir?”

Smiling Gabe said, “Just thinking, other than coffee I’ve not broken my fast today.”

“That’ll do you no good, Captain,” Hayes replied in a fatherly manner. “Eats when you can, I says. You never know when the fires have to be put out. Then it’s cold beef and beer…or rum.”

“Good advice,” Gabe answered. “Hex.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Tell Nesbit I think I’ll eat within the hour.”

“Aye, Captain, within the hour.”

Walking over to acting-Lieutenant Laqua, Gabe asked, “Settling down to the wardroom, Lieutenant?”

Laqua smiled at being addressed as lieutenant. “The other officers have made it a warm and easy transition, sir, one that will be hard to give up.”

“No reason that you should. As soon as we get back to Barbados you can sit for the lieutenant’s exam. You can study when off duty, though I’ve little doubt you could pass the exam now.”

“I’ve heard that they can ask some mighty difficult questions,” Laqua said.

“Aye, there’s always one or two that will do his best to stomp you. Somebody always wants to know how you’d go about box-hauling in a blow on a treacherous coast.”

For the next hour, Gabe and Laqua talked about the exam and different aspects of handling a ship in all types of conditions. Seeing the new lieutenant and captain in deep conversation, Adams took it upon himself to handle things normally done by the officer of the watch.

Laqua was a likable sort and hadn’t put on airs since he’d been bumped up to the wardroom, like some. He’d likely make a good officer. He’d do the sod a favor or two. You never knew when you might need one in return. Besides Laqua didn’t seem like the sort to forget.

“Captain…captain.” Gabe had been so intent in his conversation that it took a moment for him to realize he was being spoken to. Looking up, Gabe spied his cox’n who had been speaking. “Nesbit has everything ready, sir.”

Gabe nodded and then turned back to Laqua. “Some good points, Lieutenant, we will continue this conversation later.”

***

That evening, Dagan and the surgeon were playing cribbage. The whalebone board had been intricately decorated with scrimshaw work. It didn’t take but a glance to see who was ahead in the game. Dagan was leaning back, arms crossed and smiling, while Cornish was scowling. Hex sat on an upholstered cushion under Trident’s stern window tuning his mandolin. Gabe had feasted on roast chicken, potatoes, buttered peas, carrots, and apple pie with a sweet whipped cream poured over the top.

Nesbit had poured a cool glass of sweetened tea. This he’d picked up from Nanny. A jug of tea rested in the bilges to keep cool, as the captain was not much for hot tea. Following the meal, coffee was served with the apple pie. Gabe now sipped on a glass of brandy as he watched the others in the cabin; his belly felt so tight he considered loosening his trousers.

Hearing Hex strum his mandolin, Gabe was reminded of some of the shanties he and Stephen Earl used to sing back on Drakkar. It’s amazing how things changed with the responsibility of command, he thought.

“Play me a tune, Hex,” Gabe called.

“A fast tune or a slow one?” Hex asked.

Gabe took a sip of his brandy then replied, “One of each.”

He cleared his throat, and then struck up a bawdy little tune.

There’s poker there’s whist

All games that people play

But for me the cards

Has done seen their day

So if my bed is a squeaking

Don’t you come a peeping

Don’t look so shocked

At what I have to say

Met a blonde-haired beauty

She came right to me

And gave me a list

Of games we can play.

 

“Damme Hex, but ain’t you a rowdy one,” said Cornish, who had given up on beating Dagan in cribbage and turned his attention to the music and song.

Gabe had gotten up and recharged Hex’s glass and then filled Dagan and the surgeon’s glasses. I wonder what Butcher Brian would have thought, seeing a captain fill a seaman’s glass, even his cox’n, Cornish thought. Such different styles, such different men. Thank God for men like our captain, he decided.

“Still want a slow one, Captain?” Hex was saying.

“Aye.”

Another swallow of the brandy and then Hex started again.

The day is dark and dreary

I can smell the rain

The ships set for sailing

Will I stand the pain

What’s it like to be along

I worry what she’ll do

I been taken by the press gang

Will she find someone new?

The cabin was very quiet as Hex sang. It seemed that even the ship was suddenly still as the mournful ballad was sung. With the skylight open the men on deck gathered around and listened. No doubt the song struck home to more than a few.

Lieutenant Holton had the watch. No wonder the cap’n likes Hex, he thought. Bugger’s got a voice that would make the angels cry.

***

Gabe rose from his cot. He’d not undressed, had not even taken off his boots. He’d just lain back for a moment and fell asleep. Now it was several hours later and he was thirsty. A glass of lime juice or Nesbit’s cool tea would be good about now, Gabe thought. But a small glass of wine would have to do. There was no reason to wake his servant. Not wanting to sit in the darkened cabin, Gabe went topside. Out of habit he peered at the compass.

Acting-Lieutenant Turner was on deck. “Morning, sir, the wind has backed a bit and the rain has been falling off and on for the last hour or so.” Gabe could see water dripping from the shrouds and stays onto the deck. “It will be dawn soon,” Turner was saying.

The dawn of a new day, one never knew what dawn’s early light would bring. Hatless, Gabe could feel the breeze blow his hair. They should make Cape Town in another day…two at the most. Around the Cape of Good Hope and two-hundred-fifty miles off the east coast of Africa lay Madagascar and the enemy. He was ready; ready to meet these raiders and go home…home to Faith and his new son. If he survived.