In Hostile Waters: The Cruise of USS Argus (Oliver Baldwin Novel Book 3) by White William H

Author:White, William H. [White, William H.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Sea Fiction Press
Published: 2015-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Port Louis, France

12 July 1813

My dear Ann:

At last! We have got ourselves across the sea and are safely anchored in France, and not a moment too soon! We have been visited by every penny-potentate in the neighborhood, I think, and finally cleared to put our guests ashore. For a country that is supposedly on our side in this conflict – or at least not against us – the officials here have been a great deal less than pleasant, nor even courteous. One might think, from their attitude towards us, we were British! More on them in a moment.

We made our landfall last evening – No! It was the evening before! I have been so busy that I have completely lost track of the days. In any case, we got on soundings just before dark two nights back and tacked off and on all night, even though it was wonderfully clear and a three-quarter moon lit the sea like a huge lantern. The British are maintaining a blockade along the coast, being close enough to the Channel to give them grief should the French fleet escape from their harbors at Brest or LaRochelle. But the ones we came across showed little interest in us or our arrival. I suppose our departure might draw some inquiry, but that remains to be seen.

Once the sun came up – that would have been yesterday, the 11th – we made our way cautiously inshore and passed a small port with what appeared to be a decent entrance. Henry hove us to while our French passenger, M. Loremy, guided us in, his directions adequately translated by Doctor Jackson. He had fished these very waters for years, and thus was quite familiar with the shoals and imperfections in the shoreline. When we were close enough to signal, we fired a gun, hoping to attract a pilot. No response at all! No one even curious enough to check us out! M. Loremy suggested we might have better luck farther to the south, so that is what we did. Using an outdated chart and M. Loremy as our guide, Henry piloted us himself, quite nicely, I must confess. We sailed east by south, kept seaward of the Îles de Glénans, then cut in along the coast leaving another island, Île de Groix, to starboard and set a course toward L’Orient. We short tacked into the estuary of the Blauvet River in Port Louis Roads and came to anchor about 6 in the evening. We were crossing our fingers we might secure the services of a local pilot in the morning.

Regrettably, the master’s mate got himself whipped by the anchor cable as it ran out of the hawsepipe, giving him a nasty wound on his arm which gave Inderwick, the surgeon, some employment and kept him busy a good part of the night putting it to rights. While we were not quite inside the harbor, we were nonetheless at anchor on the coast of France, and thus, for all intents and purposes, our voyage – at least this part – was over.

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