Fletcher and the Samurai by John Drake

Author:John Drake [Drake, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-07-24T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

We were twenty-seven dreary days anchored in the Downs. Some ships and some captains have fared worse, so I won’t complain and what difference would it make if I did? I used the time as best as I could with more drills for the squadron, and with an endless round of visits between ships to get to know my own captains better, and to make acquaintance with the East India captains. In addition I did my best to knock some convoy sense into them, with standing orders on keeping station, and what do to in the event of French cruisers appearing, or fire on board, or running out of water, or plague, pestilence, mutiny and whatever else I could think of. My chaplain and secretary, Dr Goodsby, suggested that we put all my standing orders into writing for the benefit of the East Indiaman, which was some task for him and his helpers, so while I doubted that all the Indiamen would read what he wrote, I let him do it in order to emphasise to all concerned that I was serious.

I placed more reliance on some quiet words I had with those of the East India captains who showed signs of being surly. I give the example of one Ephraim Clinch, master of Countess of Harwich, thirteen-hundred tons, and the second biggest of them after only Duke of Cornwallis. He was another one I took against for the insolence of not being on deck when I came aboard. Also his ship was nowhere near so neat and tidy as it should have been even by East India standards, and his First Mate didn’t show respect for the King’s Uniform, and he’ll never know how close he came to being knocked down on the spot. But some of these innocent pleasures you just have to forgo when you’re commodore of a fleet.

‘Mr Clinch, Sir?’ says he, with his men grinning behind him, ‘Don’t rightly know where he might be about the ship. But tell you what? I’ll ask around,’ and he made a pretence of looking up and down the deck, then, ‘Mr Boatswain?’ he said, is the Old Man down below?’

‘Aye, Sir!’ said the boatswain and gave me a decent salute so there was one seaman among them at least. Eventually I was led below by the first mate, and it’s strange how things turn out, because somehow the first mate managed to trip heavily going down a ladder, almost as if someone had pushed him, and in my eagerness to help him to his feet, what with him laid out on his back, I accidentally trod all my weight square on his nuts and raisins so that he yelped something pitiful in his pain. But these accidents happen at sea, and when he got up, I think he guessed what he’d get if he made trouble, so he didn’t.

In the stern cabin, I got no dinner out of Captain Ephraim, only a miserable glass of port, and

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