Thunder On the Sea: A Tim Phillips novel (War at Sea Book 11) (13 page)

Mister Davis reset his head sails that had originally pulled them out into the harbor. This time, when the guns fired, the ship kept moving. She slowed as she came onto another shallow muddy spot, but those head sails pulled them through.

Not wishing to stop to retrieve his cable, Phillips ordered it cut. The big frigate, now free of the land, continued out to sea.

It took several weeks for the brig and her prize to make their way up the coast to Freetown. There had been continual problems with the former captives all the way back. With no one on board who could communicate with the Africans, there was constant tension. After so many had been freed of their restraints, there was no practical means to restrain them now.

Many, having suffered hideous atrocities over a period of months, were deeply suspicious. With none of them speaking a language that was understood by the ship’s crew there was much misunderstanding.

Eventually, many of the Africans decided they wished to land. With
matters
threatening to become ugly, Phillips decided
he
must
allow
the people to do as they wished. Fellowes privately counseled against this, advising that a powerful tribe held sway on this little section of the African continent. Fiercely independent, he was sure the locals would fall upon any small, unarmed group landing on their shores. Those that survived would find themselves back in a slave pen for sale to the next slaver that came along. 

Bowing to the inevitable, the captain ordered the boat launched. He intended to have its regular boat crew pull the impatient passengers ashore. Before they could load into the boat though, impatient Africans began dropping in. Apparently these were a people with little experience with boats, since the over-crowded launch was about ready to swamp. Panicked men began fighting each other, with several being thrown out of the boat.

The flawed endeavor turned deadly when a huge shark slashed by and had the arm off one of the men floundering in the sea. Phillips, unable to communicate with the unreasoning crowd in the boat, ordered the cutter launched, its crew tasked to save as many people in the launch as possible. By the time this boat was in the water, more men had been thrown in the water, and another man killed by shark attack. The cutter’s cox’n got a line attached to the boat and pulled her over to Mastiff. Not wanting to become involved with the physical conflict still going on in the boat, the cox’n merely threw the line to a seaman on the ship’s deck and the launch went in tow behind the brig. The Africans in the boat soon found their best strategy was to remain still on their seats. After being towed for an hour, the boat’s seasick passengers readily accepted being hoisted up on deck by bosun’s chair.

Phillips had rarely been as glad to enter port as he was this time. The colony authorities took the rescued slaves off his hands and he regained the people that had sailed the last prize to Freetown. Another ship was in port to begin its anti-slavery patrol and HMS Mastiff found herself ordered to escort the latest prize back home.

This was welcome news to Mastiff’s captain. He was anxious to return to his estate and spend time with his new wife and family. There were reports to file and a complete evaluation made of the prize before she sailed.

Almost immediately, a problem arose. The dockyard superintendent was a young Scot who took no nonsense from anyone. When Phillips returned to the dockyard early the next morning, he was expecting to learn when the frigate would be ready to sail. Instead, he was handed a message to visit the ship at the receiving quay.

Mister Gregor met him there, a frown on his face. “Ah, Captain Phillips. I presume you are here to learn when you may collect your ship?”

“That I am, Mister Gregor. My wife and children are waiting for me back home and I would like to sail as soon as possible.”

“Well, Captain, we will do our best. In ten or twelve weeks, I think your ship will be ready to proceed. Perhaps another few weeks if unforeseen problems come to light.”

Phillips was astonished. “Mister Gregor, I came here expecting to be told I could have her in a few days or a week.”

“Captain, when was the last time you were aboard the prize?”

Considering, Phillips recalled he had not been aboard since after the initial capture. The ship had been too foul for a man to bear for any length of time. He had put prize crews aboard on a rotating basis, each changing every two days, with an extra rum ration to make the duty more palatable.

Gregor smiled when he saw his guest considering. “Why do we not go aboard the ship? We may get a better idea of her prospects for sailing.”

As they neared the ship tied up at the quay, Phillips began to understand. He had experienced the stench of this vessel before but that was some time ago in the heat of battle. Here, moored in a safe location, the ship’s stink was overpowering.

Gregor wondered, “Would you care to board her and inspect more closely, below decks, perhaps?”

Declining, Phillips asked, “Just what are we to do with this frigate, Mister Gregor?”

“It would be very difficult to find a crew to sail this ship, as she is, to Britain, even under the most severe compulsion. Even after reaching home, you may be assured the only buyers for the ship would be those intending to put her back into use as a slaver, again.”

“Well, just what is it you suggest, Mister Gregor?”

“Captain, I intend to tow her to a nearby tidal inlet. Every piece of gear that can be removed, will be. We will caulk her hull and decks tightly and close any openings. Then we will sink her at a location where her decks will be above water at low tide. At high tide, of course, she will be completely submerged. After about two months underwater, we will begin pumping her out. Hopefully, she will begin to float before the tide comes back in. Once we have her pumped out, we will leave her open to dry out. I expect the slave stink will be gone once we raise her.

Phillips went back to Government House to give the governor the news. Governor MacCarthy was already familiar with the new plan and released Phillips from the duty of escorting the prize back home. Instead, he was free to sail as soon as HMS Mastiff was ready.

The voyage back home was uneventful and ended in Portsmouth about the time of the prize’s expected raising from her watery berth. Mary was now living at the London town house with the children, waiting for his return. They had an ecstatic meeting, interrupted only when he had to make a visit to the Admiralty to advise them of his arrival. He spent a full day there explaining his activities on the Spanish expedition to various officials and giving them full details of the action with the Spanish frigate.

He learned that frigate had survived and reached port, but never went to sea again. The damage to the ship was explained by the Spanish authorities to their own people as caused by a hurricane, but those authorities made it clear to their British counterparts they knew perfectly well what had happened and intended to do what they could to bring Captain Phillips and his officers to trial in a Spanish court.

This news did not concern Phillips greatly. He had no immediate plans for visiting any Spanish lands for the near future.

After he had satisfied his superiors with his reports and was expecting to return back to the house to spend the rest of the day with Mary, he received a summons from Lord Melville, himself. The First Sea Lord did not keep him waiting, but called him into his office at once. “Ah, Captain Phillips. Much has transpired since last we met. I thought it best if I myself discussed the implications with you rather than delegating the task to someone else.”

Phillips thought to himself, “This is where he pulls out the knife!”

“First of all, I am completely satisfied with your reports concerning Spanish America. It was a bad situation you were put into, and you did your duty. I must say, it was not anticipated the Spanish would bring your ship to action. You, of course, did the expected, prevailing over a more powerful ship with your little brig. The Foreign Office has sent a stiff note to the Spanish government protesting the unprovoked attack on your brig. I would hope that this sort of thing will not become prevalent.”

“The Royal Navy finds itself in a dilemma. Spain has demanded your head for embarrassing them as you did. You did as you were expected and HM Government can find no fault in your actions. We have been warned by the Spanish Ambassador that you are expected to surrender yourself to his authority immediately upon your return to Britain.”

“Of course, this will not happen. Normally, we would warn you of the inadvisability of, visiting any Spanish territories, and send you home.”

“Since these events we are discussing took place, several other matters have surfaced. First, one of our frigates, Medusa, ran herself on the rocks in Spanish waters off the port of Santa Anna. She broke her back and is reported to be a total loss. The Spaniards have returned the crew, with a certain amount of finger pointing, I might add.”

“Additionally, we are told there has been an increase of slavers bringing their cargoes into Caribbean waters. Parliament is up in arms at this news and is deluging us with demands to curb this traffic immediately. Since you now appear to be the fair-haired Royal Navy captain in the public eye, I have received several suggestions from the Palace that you be sent back to rectify these matters.”

“I understand the last ship you took is a former 40 gun French frigate of the Minerve class. Reports from the dockyard superintendent at Freetown that have reached me say that she is in remarkably fine condition, suitable to be incorporated into the Royal Navy without requiring lengthy modification or repair. Of course, the end of the war leaves the Navy with hundreds of frigates, but many are worn out and need extensive repair. Therefore, it is our intent to return you to Sierra Leone forthwith to assume command of this frigate, re-arm her, and take her across to Antigua to begin her anti-slavery patrol in those waters.”

Phillips was almost apoplectic when this news registered. As courteously as his fevered brain would allow, he explained his desire to be with his new wife and family, and the utter impossibility of his acceding to the government’s request he take this command.

Melville listened to his discourse then replied. “Captain Phillips, you are one of our most productive captains. Most of your peers, senior to you, find themselves on the beach, with little likelihood of seeing another command anytime soon. Should you refuse this command, I think you will join them, your active career at an end. I will send you home now to think about your reply.”

“Should you decide to accept the command, we shall forget this conversation ever took place. On the other hand, if I have not received word of your acceptance by tomorrow afternoon, other avenues must be approached.”

Phillips tried once more. “Milord, I fail to understand just why I myself must take this command. Surely the Royal Navy has dozens of other officers with equal abilities.”

Melville frowned, “Not that I put any stock in this, but I understand someone in the Palace thinks the sun rises and sets because you think it proper.”

“I find you to be a useful and competent officer who gets results. If you are available, I will use you to obtain the results HM Government requires. If not, I will find someone who will.”

Phillips thought about his dilemma a moment. Knowing he would be facing an irate wife in an hour, he thought about the problem as calmly as he could, and ended telling the Sea Lord he would accept the assignment, but with a caveat.

“Sir, the report from Freetown may not have mentioned the ship is without armament, saving for a few small French guns fore and aft. As she stands, she would be unable to engage any ship of force.”

Melville sighed with exasperation. “Phillips, I have already stated that she is to be re-armed. You have made it clear that you are reluctant this command. Now, what is it to be? Will you take her or not?”

“Sir, I will take her.”

Melville rang the little bell on his desk. His clerk came hurrying in and Melville ordered, “Hanks, draw up orders assigning Phillips here to command that captured French frigate slaver now at Freetown. She is not yet on the Navy list so you will have to fudge up something there. Phillips should have authority to seek out armament and whatever necessary gear that may be required to ready the ship to sail with the fleet and engage the enemy. He may indent against Admiralty for reasonable expenses.”

“Now, Captain, Phillips, have I met all of your demands?”

Immediately, the hostility vanished. Melville rang for cigars and brandy, and finally got around to asking about Mary and the children.  His mind in a whirl, he had a very difficult time blurting out the news when Mary greeted him at the door. The screaming that he anticipated did not occur, just cold, silent anger when she finally found he would not reconsider his decision.

An hour later, with acid burning in his stomach, he decided no further benefit would come from any attempt to explain matters. After a quick word to his butler to have his sea chest packed, he went around back to the stables. He found a small cob in residence, whose job it was to pull the cook’s cart to market. Finding the servant in charge of the stable halfway through his evening bottle of gin, Phillips kicked him awake and told him he needed to be taken to the posting inn in half an hour. The elderly little horse was not enthusiastic over this new demand, but the captain was delivered to the posting in just before the coach for Portsmouth left.

At Portsmouth, his orders directed him to a 3
rd
rate line-of-battle ship that would be joining the Africa Squadron at Freetown He went aboard and introduced himself to its captain. Captain Aldrich informed him that he was expected and would be happy to ferry him to Freetown. The liner’s captain had also been told to transport an extra two hundred men who would crew the old French frigate. Captain Aldrich expressed his envy at the activity Phillips would be experiencing. In these days of peace, an officer had little chance to make himself noticed.

No mention was made of the tactics used to compel Phillips into accepting the command. The voyage went smoothly enough except for a little excitement off the coast of North Africa. A pair of Moorish galleys impudently closed them, as if to determine whether this was really a line-of battle ship, or was perhaps a wealthy East Indiaman.

Captain Aldrich had his crew put on quite a performance to convince the Moors they were a helpless merchantman ripe for plunder. He had men run around the weather deck as if in panic, and fired off a six-pounder when the closest menace was still far out of range. He had the gunner wet the cartridge so it would not fire with full force and suggest to the enemy the powder had been stored improperly. In the end though, the pirates decided something was just not right about this lone ship and veered away to hunt other prey.

When they moored in Freetown, Phillips looked around the harbor, expecting to see his frigate about ready to sail. Captain Aldrich tried to calm his imagination, when it became obvious that no forty gun frigate was afloat in this harbor.

“Sometimes these planned sinking’s do not go just right. If the water depth is just a bit too deep, or the tide is not right, raising a ship can become horribly time consuming and expensive.”

The interview on the shore with the Master Superintendent of the dockyard explained the matter. A larger than expected volume of captures had strained the resources of the yard. “We have had to let her wait until other matters were taken care of. The frigate will probably be the better for the longer wait under water. We will make her our next project and you should soon see her afloat.”

With the additional 200 seamen from the liner, they found they could get on with the job first thing in the morning.

Captain Phillips was pulled out to the site of the sinking in Apollo’s launch at high tide. Accompanying him was a pair of yard barges fastened to each other by a pair of spars lashed to their gunnels. Under the spars and between the boats hung a large ship’s pump. The little fleet proceeded toward a small buoy floating in the small estuary.

Mister Gregor, riding in Phillip’s boat explained. “After checking the water’s depth here, we towed the ship here, positioned her just right and sank her in place. At low tide, her gunnels just manage to protrude from the surface. Before sinking her, every possible entry point for water was patched and caulked. At high tide, she is completely covered by the brackish water of this estuary.”

“I judge we will have high tide in ten more minutes. We are going to position the pump over the waist of the ship. When the tide falls and exposes the ship’s sides, we will begin pumping. Hopefully, we will be able to get her afloat before the tide comes back in again.”

The boats with the pump maneuvered their craft over the sunken ship. Her outline could just be seen beneath the shallow water. The pump hung below the water’s surface, making it difficult to position. When out of position by just a fathom or so, it was liable to hang up on some part of the frigate’s hull.

Finally though, when positioned over the lowest part of the frigate’s deck, the lashings were cut and the pump dropped solidly into place. Now, it was a waiting game. Bits of the hull slowly emerged from the water as the tide fell. Soon, the upper deck was exposed and finally a few inches of freeboard was visible. Had there been the slightest suggestion of chop in the water, raising the ship would have been impossible, as water would slop over into the hull as fast as it was pumped out.

A hose was attached to the pump and led into an open hatch. When the pumping began, the boats returned to shore to bring back other workers who would spell exhausted ones.

With the pumping started, a steady stream of water spurted from the hose into the estuary. Two of the boats, when they returned with additional men, also carried smaller pumps. These were put in place and water was soon gushing from them. The pumping continued all morning, and the level inside the hull was seen to be slowly dropping. Still though, the ship seemed to be firmly fastened to the bottom. Phillips had his eye on his watch. Soon the tide would begin to rise. If they could not get the ship to float before the sea came over the gunnels, all their labor would be lost.

Another relay of men came aboard. These were hired Africans. They had a drummer with them who beat his instrument to the tempo of the pump. Those men not pumping sang and chanted to encourage the workers. Soon after noting the tide had turned and was now rising, Phillips saw a change in activity. The African’s chant had increased in volume and tempo. Water was gushing from the pumps at an astounding rate, with no sign of the ship rising however. As if to encourage the ship to rise, those people not actually pumping began jumping up and down in unison.

Suddenly, Phillips noted the deck seemed to quiver under his shoes. A few more jumps saw the deck lurch upward, spilling many of the men from their feet. The frigate was now afloat.

The Africans, deciding their task was done, immediately stopped their work and began discussing the event. Fortunately, there were plenty of European seamen on board who could continue to pump her dry.

They left her in place for the rest of the day and night, continuing with the pumping. Next morning, she was empty, if not dry. She was covered with a fine layer of mud, inside and out, which had to be removed. Marine growth had begun to grow on the exposed surfaces. With the heat of the tropical sun, a new smell arose as this material began to decay. The original stink however, was now absent. Gregor assured him that once dried out and cleaned up, she would smell as sweet as could be. Now some of the pumps were reversed, pumping water from the estuary to hose the interior mud into the bilge, which then had to be pumped back over the side.

What had been a novelty to the hands now appeared to them a major hardship. While used to various difficulties aboard ship, there were limits. This ship was sodden with water and mud, and it was difficult for the men to see any potential improvement. To take the men’s minds from their imagined problems, he left the ship in the hands of hired Africans on some days, taking the men out on the beach and practicing cutlass drill and marksmanship with muskets.

Two weeks after raising her, the ship, while not actually dry inside, was only damp, a condition judged acceptable to most of the seamen. A barge, with sheerlegs, came by and set up their masts, which had been floating in the estuary all this time to keep them from cracking in the African heat. Professional riggers from the dockyard came aboard to set up their rigging, assisted by the bosun and the more experienced seamen.

Every day now, the ship found itself in a farther stage of completion. On the scheduled day a merchantman docked, unloading a cargo of ship’s provisions. The expected salt beef and pork, ship’s biscuits weeks in the bag, as well as the kegs of sauerkraut, and the dried peas.

Phillips was concerned by the lack of rum, since a ship carrying such had never arrived. He could send for wine from Spain or Portugal but the men were really not enthusiastic about that tipple. One evening though, a prize sent in by an anti-slavery patrol arrived. A captured Yankee schooner, she carried a cargo of American corn whiskey. While not illegal in itself, the ship’s captain also had aboard a dozen Africans he had traded some whiskey for. These people made his ship a legitimate prize and ship and cargo were now forfeit. Phillips bought the liquor at auction using his own money.

The men grumbled at the different taste, but soon became accustomed to the new basis of their grog. There was the problem with guns. Ideally, the ship would be armed with eighteen pounders on her broadsides with nine pounders forward and aft.

The ship-of-the-line that had brought Phillips and much of his crew out had carried out some elderly eighteen pounders as ballast. The frigate now had a dozen of them. Furthermore, many of the prizes had been armed, and there was a selection of their miscellaneous guns to choose from. These guns were not ideal since they came from differing countries and eras, their calibers often varying greatly.

Governor MacCarthy had heard reports that ship’s gun were available on St. Helena, and it might prove profitable to make a stop there to see if some might be acquired. That island, of course, was where Napoleon Bonaparte was now sequestered. Phillips thought it might prove interesting to stop there. Perhaps he could meet with the former emperor.

Finally though, Phillips made the decision to sail north to Gibraltar. He felt he had a better chance securing the guns and their necessary fittings there. Of course, ammunition would need to be acquired also. He was coming to the conclusion that this was a fool’s commission, sending off a newly acquired former slaver to apprehend others.

Before departing, the governor and his staff held a commissioning ceremony for the new frigate. The governor's wife broke a bottle of Spanish wine on the hull and christened her HMS Hera. She was also presented with her commissioning pennant which indicated to all she was a King’s ship.

Hera set out sailing north. She had a scratch crew composed of the 200 men delivered to the ship in Freetown. Phillips had also signed on some 40 Africans, just freed from captivity themselves. These were all sturdy fellows who Phillips felt would soon learn their jobs. Only a few spoke any English at all, but prior experience had taught him most would soon learn enough to follow commands.

Two weeks out of Freetown, they spotted a pair of vessels. Under sail at first, they soon lowered their canvas and changed to oars. Approaching from far off Hera's starboard quarter, the quarterdeck officers commented on the precision of the rowers and hoped they did not mind this long pull.

They may well have been the same pair countered on the way down. The difference was, their ship on the previous meeting was a two decked line-of-battle ship armed with 74 guns.

This ship had only twelve eighteen-pounder guns on the broadsides and a few nine-pounders fore and aft.

Granted, these weapons could do serious damage to the light Moorish galleys, but accuracy would be all important. He had very little ammunition for the 18 pounder guns and needed to conserve that. He did have sufficient ammunition for the nine-pounders although some of the balls were French-eight pounders.

It would be sometime before the raiders caught up with them, so Phillips decided to engage his ship’s guns in some practice. The frigate had come within range of a floating tree on the surface. Since he had sufficient ammunition for his nine pounders, he ordered those guns on the quarterdeck and forward to try their luck.

Every few shots, new people were brought to the guns to see how well they could do. Mr. Guenther, his new gunnery officer, kept careful records of each crew and its accuracy. Even though a long war against a major enemy ad recently ended, there were still many men in the Royal Navy who had little experience firing the great guns.

The guns pounded away all day, while the galleys slowly closed. They had spread out now with one on each of the frigate’s stern quarters. They were not yet within range, but would soon be. By now, Mister Guenther and his captain had come to a decision as to which personnel would man each gun.

Having still a little time left, it was decided to assign crews to the 18-pounders and allow them to fire a single shot each. Each of the big guns would have a load of grapeshot and two loads of canisters shot near their guns. It was anticipated, by the time any action began, the galleys would be close on to the frigate, where this shot might well be deadly.

It was obvious the pirate crews had discovered the frigate’s difficulty. After the war ended, many naval powers sold off some of their surplus warships to commercial enterprises.

These businesses thought having a fast warship deliver merchandise was a good business decision. Of course, to be profitable, a large crew could not be carried. Neither would there be room to carry a large number of guns. Many of these Moorish rovers had discovered these deficiencies and no longer feared one of these old lightly-armed former warships.