In Distant Waters by Richard Woodman

Author:Richard Woodman [Woodman, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Naval Fiction
ISBN: 9781574090987
Google: DSLLonvu1bgC
Amazon: 1574090984
Goodreads: 1402585
Publisher: Sheridan House
Published: 1988-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

In Distant Waters

file:///C:/DOCUME~1/abc/LOCALS~1/Temp/7zO26.tmp/Richard%20W...

'Infernal machines…' Drinkwater heard someone whisper, half-admiringly, and smiled grimly when he realised it was Derrick, caught up in the stirring excitement of this insanity.

'Bearing coming on, sir,' said Fraser matter-of-factly, still bent over the dispart sight of the 18-pounder.

Drinkwater saw the Spanish officer by the Santa Monica's larboard dogvane straighten up purposively. Without taking his glass from his eye he gave the order:

'Fire!'

Gun-locks snapped like the crackle of grass as a squall strikes, then came the immense roar of artillery, the trembling rise of the deck as the ship reacted to the recoil and the sudden burst of activity throughout Patrician that followed his order.

On the gun-deck below, the heavy 24-pounders belched flame and shot, trundling inboard and snapping their tackles together as their crews swarmed round them, sponging and reloading the monstrous things. On quarterdeck and fo'c's'le the 18-pounders and the brutal 42-pounder carronades swept the deck with powder smoke and the enemy with a hail of iron and langridge.

'Up helm!'

Behind Drinkwater, Hill was standing by the wheel, shouting through his speaking trumpet while Fraser, released from his duty bent over the dispart sight, was leaping across the deck whence Drinkwater followed him.

'Smartly there, my lads, stamp and go!'

Patrician's bow swung towards the Santa Monica as the Spaniard's hull disappeared momentarily behind the smoke of her own broadside. The fog of her discharging guns would, for a moment, blind her officers to much of his manoeuvre.

Above his head the braces were easing the yards and then there was a rending crash from forward. Drinkwater felt a slight tremble through the hull, but Patrician's turn was unimpeded and then, leaning from the larboard hance, he could see the stern of the Santa Monica.

There was a rent in her spanker and her ensign was fluttering down, its halliards having parted as Patrician's jib-boom slashed across her deck. Her stern boat was a wreck and hung down from the davits by a single fall.

'Larbowlines…!'

Drinkwater's voice was drowned in the thunder of the larboard guns, fired by their captains as they bore, double shotted and topped with canister they blasted into the starboard quarter of the Spaniard as Patrician sliced obliquely across the Santa Monica's stern.

As the smoke cleared Drinkwater caught a glimpse of Comley, the boatswain, wielding an axe on the knightheads, where he fought to free Patrician of the obstruction of her smashed jib-boom.

'Hard on the wind again, Mr Hill!'

'Aye, aye, sir, full an' bye it is!'

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2/13/2009 8:57 AM

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