Nathaniel Drinkwater #05 - The Corvette by Richard Woodman

Author:Richard Woodman [Woodman, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Great Britain, Historical, War & Military, Sea Stories, Greenland, Great Britain - History; Naval - 19th Century, Drinkwater; Nathaniel (Fictitious Character), Whaling Ships
ISBN: 9781574091007
Google: qI-eqwbwBFoC
Amazon: 157409100X
Publisher: Sheridan House
Published: 1985-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Greatly refreshed from an uninterrupted sleep of almost twelve hours, wrote Drinkwater in his journal, I woke to the strong impression that my life had been spared by providence

He paused. The vision of Midshipman Frey as his son had been a vivid one and he was certain that had he not awakened to full consciousness at the time he would not have survived the ordeal in the open boat. The consequences of his folly in leaving the ship struck him very forcibly and he resolved never to act so rashly again. In his absence Germaney had died and he still felt pangs of conscience over his former first lieutenant. He shook off the ‘blue devils’ and his eye fell upon the portraits upon the cabin bulkhead, and particularly that of his little son. He dipped his pen in the inkwell.

The conviction that I was awoken in the boat by the spirit of my son is almost impossible to shake off, so fast has it battened upon my imagination, I am persuaded that we were past saving at that moment and would have perished had I not been revived by the apparition. He paused again and scratched out the word apparition substituting visitation. He continued writing and ended: the sighting of Faithful reassured me that my charges had made lighter of the gale than ourselves, for though nothing carried away aloft Melusine is making more water than formerly. Faithful made the signal for whales almost immediately upon our coming up and the whale ships stood north where, inexplicably, there seems to be less ice. The cold seems more intense.

He laid his pen down, closed his journal and slipped it into the table drawer.

‘Pass word for Mr Hill!’

He heard the marine sentry’s response passed along and rose, pulling out the decanter and two glasses from the locker where Cawkwell had secured them.

‘Come in,’ he called as Hill knocked and entered the cabin. ‘Ah, take a seat, Mr Hill, I am sure you will not refuse a glass on such a raw morning.’

‘Indeed not, sir

thank you.’

Drinkwater sipped the blackstrap and reseated himself.

‘Mr Hill, we have known each other a long time and now that Germaney is dead I have a vacancy for a lieutenant

no, hear me out. I can think of no more deserving officer on this ship. I will give you an acting commission and believe I possess sufficient influence to have it ratified on our return. Now, what d’you say, eh?’

‘That’s considerate of you, sir, but no, I

‘

‘Damn it, Bourne’s told me that without you he’d have been hard pushed to work the ship through the fog, he’s a good fellow and does you the credit you deserve. With a master’s warrant you’ll never get command and the advancement you should have. Recollect old James Bowen, Earl Howe’s Master of the Fleet, when asked what he would most desire for his services at the First of June, asked for a commission.’

‘Aye, sir, that’s true, but Bowen was made prize agent for the fleet, he’d no need to worry about the loss of pay.

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