Quarterdeck by Julian Stockwin

Quarterdeck by Julian Stockwin

Author:Julian Stockwin [Stockwin, Julian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Action & Adventure, War & Military, Great Britain, Seafaring Life, Sea stories, Kydd; Thomas (Fictitious Character), Sailors
ISBN: 9781590131282
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2004-01-01T13:30:00+00:00


168

Julian Stockwin

But the storm had one last trial for the old ship. By degrees the wind shifted north and the temperature fell. The fi rst whirling snowfl akes came, then snow squalls that marched across the seas with dark, brassy interiors bringing intense cold.

It got worse. Ice covered shrouds, sails, decks, freezing exposed faces. It stiffened wet ropes to bars that seamen, with frozen fi ngers in wet gloves and feet in agony with the cold, had to wrestle with to coil.

Even breathing was painful: Kydd bound a cloth round his face but it soon clogged with ice as moisture froze. Below, the wardroom stank of damp wool, bear-grease and the hides used in foul-weather gear. No one spoke: it was too much effort. Renzi sat with his head in his hands.

On Kydd’s watch the wind moan increased, the pitiless blast buffeting him with its fearsome chill. He hugged himself, grateful for his moose-hide jacket, and thought of the hapless men in the fo’c’sle. In the scrappiest clothing against the numbing chill they had to muster on watch day and night, working, enduring.

Hambly came over. “Shall have t’ take in the main tops’l,” he said, looking signifi cantly at Kydd. They had been fortunate until now that they carried the same square sail, close reefed fore and main topsails, but the wind had increased again.

Kydd stared up at the straining sail. There was no question, the ship was over-pressed in these conditions and must be relieved—he could feel it in her laboured response to the helm. He was offi cer-of-the-watch and the responsibility was his, not the master’s.

But there was the deadly glitter of ice on the shrouds, in the tops and along the yards: how could he send men aloft in the almost certain knowledge that for some there would be a cry, a fall and death?

His eyes met Hambly’s: there was understanding but no compassion. Without a word Kydd turned and made his way down to



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