Fletcher and the Blue Star: Further adventures of seafaring hero Jacob Fletcher by John Drake

Author:John Drake [Drake, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2021-12-08T18:30:00+00:00

We saw Triomphe steering towards us and I was determined to fight her downwind, on her lee side, having seen Bataille du Peuple unable to open her lee gun-ports when heeled over. Perhaps Triomphe’s captain had seen it too, because he certainly steered hard to avoid that, or maybe he was aiming to rake us by the bow, just as Bataille had tried?

In any case, we two ships Tromenderon and Triomphe closed warily, as I shortened sail down to tops’ls and the French captain did the same, for a steady and controlled approach with time to manoeuvre. I had our 9-pounders going. I ordered the bow-chasers into action at once, and the crews rushed forward, loaded and ran out.

Bang-Bang! They fired together and, by Jove, but the French were only an instant after. There was screaming and howling over both ships, and spars knocked away, and holes punched in sails, but a 9-pounder is only an irritant when aimed at the bows of a big ship.

This time there was no mad gallop, and we two ships slanted into action at little more than walking pace, with myself yelling at the helmsmen to get on the lee of the enemy. I do believe I heard the same coming from them, because we were that close in the end. Triomphe was huge, and rolling towards us. I could see the men in the tops, the crews of their bow-chasers plying ram-rods, officers waving swords on their fo’c’sle, and their men cheering.

We turned; they turned. Our marines popped away at their marines with muskets. The gun-captains stood by with lanyards in their hands, waiting for sight of the enemy through the gun-ports. Soon we were only pistol-shot away, with the ships closing bowsprit to bowsprit, and a collision looked certain.

“Shall I call away boarders, sir?” says Pyne, and I wondered. If it came to boarding, then whoever went first had the advantage. But calling away boarders meant less men at the guns. I looked at Triomphe’s fo’csle, and saw no sign of a boarding party being mustered.

“No!” says I, turning to the helmsmen, “and you bloody well get us under her lee!” I shouldn’t have bothered. The helmsmen were already doing their best, and so were the sail trimmers. It was well done by our helmsmen and topmen because, just an instant before the bowsprits touched, even though there was a grinding and snapping of tangled rigging at the bow, the two ships slid clear of each other and ran past at spitting distance. So our broadside thundered and bellowed, and their broadside thundered and bellowed, and you cannot even imagine – you who’ve never heard it – how appalling a noise is made by a heavy gun when you’re in front of it. And you cannot even imagine – you who’ve never been there – how utterly blinded everyone was aboard both ships with tons of powder exploding in seconds and turning into choking white smoke.

Likewise, you cannot imagine what it was

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