Barracuda: The Fighting Anthonys, Book 3 Read online

  As Dawkins got close he sounded very nasal as he tried to speak above the wind. “You going to wait on Dagan and Caleb to return before your ready to eat or do you want Lum to fix you something now?”

  Realizing that he was indeed hungry and just as important realizing he was creating more of a hindrance by being on deck, Gabe decided to go below then thought to ask, “Did Caleb take his damn ape with him?”

  “Aye,” Dawkins replied. “There’s naught on board to look after the bugger since Lum ’as sworn off him.”

  Caleb’s ape, Mr. Jewells, had tried to pick the gray hairs out of Lum’s scalp one night after he had fallen asleep in one of the cabin’s chairs. It was dark in the cabin but the pulling sensation caused Lum to wake up and immediately felt a heavy weight upon his lap. The ape was face to face with him so that when he opened his eyes all he could see was the ape’s teeth as it rolled its lips. He could feel the hot breath on his face, with two tiny beady eyes staring at him.

  Lum let out a scream that startled the ape causing it to let out a blood-curdling scream, which was made worse when Lum’s chair fell back hitting the deck and jarring the two apart. The sentry hearing the screams rushed into the cabin only to be run over by the ape trying to escape.

  As the two collided, the sentry’s musket was knocked from his grip causing it to go off as it hit the deck. The loud shot rang out adding to the confusion. The officer on watch alerted the master-at-arms and sentries were put around the ship fearing attack. By the time Lum, who had been either knocked unconscious falling with the chair or fainted from his fright was able to speak, everything had quieted down.

  When asked if the ape had scared him Lum replied, “How’d you like to wake up wid sumthin’ plucking at yo’ head? Then when you opens yo’ eyes all you sees is dem big ole teevies shining at you in da moonlight, and feels dat hot breath blowing on yo’s face. Yas suh! I was scared and I ain’t shame to say it. No suh! I didn’t know if it was a ghost or a sea devil or what, but I knowed it didn’t belong in old Lum’s lap. No suh, not in a hundred years it didn’t.”

  It was a sleepy-eyed Gabe who made his way on deck. Dagan, as always was at his side. He watched every morning as Gabe dressed and wondered if he’d ever be a good riser. Dagan was not only Gabe’s uncle but also his protector, a rite he had assumed upon the death of Gabe’s gypsy grandfather.

  “Mr. Jackson, Mr. Gunnells.” The habitual greeting.

  “Morning, captain.” The habitual reply.

  Damn I’m getting cantankerous, Dagan thought.

  “The anchor’s hove short, sir, and the men are at their stations prepared to get underway,” Jackson volunteered.

  “Very well,” Gabe replied then turned his attention to the master.

  “Winds from the north-nor-east. Not as fresh as she be yesterday but it’ll be a brisk one by any man’s thinking.”

  Nodding his understanding to Gunnells, Gabe directed his attention back to his first lieutenant. “Well, Mr. Jackson, you’ve worked wonders putting SeaWolf back to rights. Now sir, you may have the privilege of putting us to sea.”

  “Aye! Aye! Captain.” A smile on Jackson’s face as he turned to go about his duties, pleased the captain had so quickly placed his confidence in him.

  Pipes shrilled and the deck came alive. New replacement seamen were urged on by curses from the petty officers. Gabe could feel SeaWolf tugging on the cable as the wind freshened. The fiddler plucked out an Irish shanty—attempts to please its new master no doubt.

  “Now me little sweethearts, let’s give the ladies in Halifax a final wave to remember us by.” This from the bosun, Graf.

  “Hands aloft. Prepare to make sail,” Jackson bellowed as seamen scrambled to do his bidding.

  “Loosen mainsails! Lively now, lads. You heard the lieutenant,” Graf shouted.

  The sails suddenly filled with the wind giving a thunderous flap.

  From forward, Nathan Lavery, the second lieutenant cried out, “Anchors aweigh.”

  Gabe could hear the clank, clank, clank as the capstan continued to reel in the anchor. Looking over at the compass, the helmsman volunteered, “South by sou’east, sir.”

  Glancing forward Gabe could see the men had the anchor hauled towards the cathead. Jackson was ordering Lavery to have the yards braced around to take full advantage of the wind. The headland and most of the shoreline seemed to be disappearing very quickly as the wind held steady. SeaWolf plunged through the cresting waves cascading spray over the bow.

  Approaching Gabe, Jackson stated, “I’d like to see how she behaves under full canvas if you don’t mind, sir.”

  “Very well, Mr. Jackson, put her through her courses, and then get some food in the men.” Looking at Dagan and giving a slight motion with his head Gabe turned back to Jackson, “I’m going to my cabin. I’m sure you have control of the ship and can do without my presence for a time.” Then, before Jackson could respond, Gabe headed down the ladder to his cabin.

  “Seems to be ready to head south, don’t he?” Dagan said as he closed the cabin door.

  “Aye, and so am I,” Gabe said. “I wish we had been able to sail with Gil and the squadron when they left. I’ve had enough of this cold. I’m ready for some warm weather.”

  Dagan watched as Gabe unconsciously clutched the empty pouch around his neck. Aye, Dagan thought, warm weather and closer to the pretty little rebel girl who held his heart and his ruby. Feeling the stiffness between his shoulder, Dagan thought maybe a little warm weather would do some good. Either that or drink some of Caleb’s willow bark tea he prescribes for the agues.

  Chapter Three

  It was to be a grand affair, the likes of which neither Bart, Silas or any other of Lord Anthony’s staff could ever remember.

  “It’s time for a feast,” Lord Anthony had shouted out to Silas as he entered his stateroom. Then while reading the letters that had been laid on his desk he gave a whoop and declared, “Well, damme.” Bart had entered the cabin at that time and knew something was in the wind. He’d never seen his Lordship take on so.

  Seeing his cox’n, Anthony ordered, “See the flag captain, Bart, and have him signal for all captains to repair on board with their first lieutenants to dine with the admiral this evening. Soon as that’s done hurry on back and we’ll share a wet.”

  Hum, thought Bart, something was definitely up. More ’n one something likely and he bet he knew what half of it had to be, seeing as he put the thick letter from Lady Deborah on the admiral’s desk. A smile crept across Bart’s face. With his lordship carrying on so he’d forgotten to mention SeaWolf was just entering the harbour. Now Gabe would be on hand to enjoy the celebration. Bart quickened his pace; maybe he could put a word in the flag captain’s ear to keep quiet about SeaWolf for a spell.

  With the help of Moffett’s chef and servant, Silas had put on a feast to remember. It was a harassed flag lieutenant who had gotten back aboard just in time with a rump of beef that was to be the centerpiece of the table. Last minute shopping was not his idea of a flag lieutenant’s duties but he was willing to do his best for his admiral on such a grand occasion. The rump had been boiled and the brisket had been roasted. The tongue and tripe was minced and baked into pies. A young kid goat was dressed in its own blood and thyme with a pudding in its belly. After that came a shoulder of mutton with a side of goat both covered with a rasher of bacon. As though that wasn’t enough for all the captains and their first lieutenants to gorge themselves senseless, there was pickled oysters, bowls of potatoes and vegetables. Finally, Silas served a dish of his famous berry pastries and apple tarts.

  With the desserts finished, glasses of sherry were poured as clay pipes and cigars were passed. Once the pipes were billowing and cigars were lighted, Lord Anthony stood and raised his glass for a toast. As he stood he glanced Gabe’s way. Gabe, seeing Lord Anthony’s gaze, smiled and nodded ever so slightly. He had been made privy to her ladyship’s news and had already congratulated his brother.

  “
Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to inform each of you that my wife, Lady Deborah, has presented your admiral with a child, a baby girl. She has been named Macayla Rose.

  A cry went up, “Here, here, to Lady Deborah and Lord Anthony.” As the officers settled down Anthony had the glasses recharged and again stood.

  “Gentlemen, it is now my pleasure to present to you the Royal Navies newest admiral. Admiral Dutch Moffett.”

  Again the cheers from the officers. When it had quieted down Anthony stood again.

  “A toast to the new flag captain. Captain Buck.”

  Another round of cheers that took a time to settle down. When Anthony had everyone’s attention, “A toast to Captain Stephen Earl, HMS Merlin.”

  This time the cheers took longer as Earl was not only made captain but was given Merlin. After the group had finished congratulating Earl, Lord Anthony stood again.

  “Gentlemen, this night should prove a night like no other. We are here to say farewell to Captain Pope who is returning to England with Drakkar for a much needed refitting.” This time instead of cheers, good-natured boos. Once the noise quieted down, Anthony continued, “He will have the honor of carrying with him our new admiral, Admiral Moffett. However, as one shipmate departs we welcome a new one. Gentlemen, I present Master and Commander, Sir Raymond Knight, Captain of the Navy’s latest prize, HMS LeFrelon.”

  Once more the cheers and toast. Meanwhile, Bart and Dagan had ambled aft, and were leaning on the taffrail having a wet, smoking their pipes, and having a quiet conversation. The aroma of burnt tobacco filled the air causing Johns, the fifth lieutenant who had the watch to look aft. Seeing the old seadogs he was touched. It was men like these that took care of men like those below in the admiral’s quarters that really made the Navy what it was.

  Another cheer from below. Hearing it, Johns felt a pang of jealously and wished he could join the party. Not the one below, but the one at the taffrail.

  Chapter Four

  The gale force Atlantic winds carried the two ships along under full sail. SeaWolf and HMS Swan had been given orders to carry dispatches to Admiral Graves, whose squadron was thought to be somewhere between the West Indies, meaning Antigua, and Philadelphia.

  Upon delivering the dispatches, SeaWolf and Swan, were to join Admiral Lord Anthony at Saint Augustine. They had been ordered to sail together because of the increasing menace of privateers.

  Lieutenant Markham, who commanded Swan, and Gabe had both received the benefit of serving as midshipman under Lord Anthony. Therefore, most of the time, they were of the same mindset. This was in evidence at the rate of speed, a full seven knots in a wind when most would have taken in a sail.

  SeaWolf’s First Lieutenant Jackson was in deep conversation with Nathan Lavery, the second lieutenant, and the only other officer aboard the ship. Dagan observed the two as he stood by the lee rail. Undoubtedly, Jackson was pleased at what Lavery was telling him as a smile creased the otherwise hard leathery face. Were they talking about some adventure ashore, about their captain or some doxy? Which ever made no difference? They were happy and generally happy officers meant a happy crew.

  Andy Gunnells, the ship’s master, was aft trying to light his pipe, too stubborn to duck below the rail out of the wind—an Irishman, whose favorite phrase seems to be “God Save Ireland.” A plume of smoke, the pipe had finally been lit and Gunnells ambled towards Dagan.

  As he made his way he paused and cocked his head so that his right ear was pointed south. Dagan knew what caused Gunnells to cock his ear. He had just heard it too. Gunfire. No sooner had the thought come to mind than several seamen stopped what they were doing and faced forward.

  “Lookout! Damme man, I’m calling you,” Jackson bellowed. “Do you have anything to report?”

  “No, sir,” the lookout called down, “Clear to larboard and starboard. A bit ’o ’aze be blocking the view forward, sir.”

  Hearing either the gunfire or the lookout’s report brought Gabe on deck. Dagan wasn’t sure but had expected Jackson to send a messenger for him. Gabe was about to order another lookout be sent aloft when to his surprise Jackson headed up the futtock shrouds with his glass. Then, like a true sailor, shunned the lubbers hole as he found a place to perch, nudging the lookout over a bit.

  There was a bit of haze, as the lookout had stated, but to a trained eye powder smoke was also visible. Looking at the sailor seated next to him with a degree of disgust, Jackson called down his sighting.

  Hearing the report, Gabe called Midshipman Lancaster, “Make a signal to Swan. Gunfire.”

  “Is that all, sir?” Lancaster asked.

  “Aye, lad, Captain Markham needs no further information at present.”

  Swan had been to windward and about half a league behind SeaWolf. At sighting the signal, Markham had her brought up to within hailing distance.

  “Sail ho!” The shout came from the masthead. Jackson who had returned to the deck looked up waiting for the report to continue.

  “Off the starboard bow, a brig by ’er tops’ls. Hull and mains’ls still down yit.”

  Gabe couldn’t control his agitation. “Any other ships, anything in chase?”

  “No, sir.” Then after a pause, “Another ship ’as come outta the ’aze sir. A big un, a frigate she be. Her sails be red and yellow, sir.”

  “Whose sails man?” Jackson shouted out. “The brig or the frigate?”

  “The frigate, sir. No flag but ’er sails look like a Dago’s. She be luffin,” cried the lookout.

  This time there was no doubt when the distant ship fired. The heavy explosion filled the air. Gabe watched through his glass as a thundercloud of acrid smoke billowed out from the larger ship, reeking havoc on the small brig. Another racking explosion.

  Damme thought Gabe. That cutthroat’s gunners know their business.

  “Mr. Druett!”

  “Aye, captain.”

  “Double charge the bowchaser but no ball. See if we can attract the whoreson’s attention.”

  “Aye, cap’n,” Druett answered, then was off.

  A confused Midshipman Lancaster looked to Dagan, “No ball?” he asked.

  “Aye, lad. With a double charge it will sound like we have a heavy gun and if they can’t see the splash of ball they won’t know how close we are.”

  An old trick Gabe’s father had discussed during one of his many talks. So the boy had been paying attention, Dagan thought. If the old admiral could see his son now he’d be proud.

  Again a terrific blast from the Spaniard ship, enveloping both ships in smoke. As the smoke cleared the Spanish vessel appeared to be hauling her wind. Maybe she had spied Swan and SeaWolf. Although together the pair would present little or no challenge for the frigate.

  Training his glass back on the hapless brig Gabe realized here was the reason for the frigate’s departure. The brig was listing badly to larboard, most of the upper structure gone. Mast riggings, bulwark, transom all shot away. The poor ship was sinking. The frigate had completed its deadly task. No boats were in the water, so undoubtedly they were destroyed as well. A few of the crew could be seen on deck. A grating was lowered over the side, apparently with wounded strapped to it. Gabe turning to Dagan said, “I wonder how much help Caleb will be.”

  Out of the brigs full complement only twenty-seven survived the vicious pounding by the frigate. The senior survivor was the carpenter, a man oddly enough named Woods, John Woods.

  “We were carrying uniforms, boots and such,” he explained. “Few cases of muskets with powder and shot to go along, but no great cargo; so we were sailing without escort. Then along comes this ship flying his Spanish colors. Since we weren’t at war with Spain the captain didn’t seem to be too concerned. She can overtake us at any turn, he told me shipmate, Bundy. Then the frigate hauls down her colors but stead of boarding us like the cap’n figures she’ll do, she just opens her gun ports and blasts away.”

  “Maybe she saw us,” Jackson volunteered.

  “Beggin
g your pardon sir,” Woods answered the first lieutenant. “I don’t think she was to much worried about a brigantine and a schooner. Bundy, he’s…he was the ship’s master, said it was almost like the Barracuda had a score to settle with us.”

  “The Barracuda?”

  “Aye, sir, that was the name on the frigate. The Barracuda.”

  Later, when things had settled down Gabe, Caleb and Dagan sat in Gabe’s cabin. Each man nursing a glass of wine and listened as Lum played a tune on his lotz. The sun had all but set, but what was left sent a prism of colors across the stern as it was reflected from the cold ocean waters. Trying to see out the windows was now difficult as they were caked with salt. SeaWolf along with Swan drove further and further to the southwest.

  Gabe waited till Lum had finished his melody then spoke, “Do you know what today’s incident reminds me of?”

  “I was thinking along those lines as well,” Dagan replied. “Makes you think of the Reaper.”

  “Yes, but her captain was French and he’s dead,” Caleb interjected.

  “Aye, he is,” Dagan replied, “But Montique’s not. That’s something we can’t afford to forget.”

  “No,” Gabe replied, “I’ll not soon forget.”

  “Nor will I,” Dagan promised himself as he took another swig of his wine. “Nor will I.”

  Chapter Five

  Gabe, Gunnells, the master, and the first lieutenant, Jackson, sat reviewing the charts they had of Saint Augustine, Florida. They had been able to rendezvous with Admiral Graves the day following the incident between the brig and the Barracuda.

  Admiral Graves showed little concern about the incident other than to say he could use the survivors to replace men lost from his ships, men Gabe had hoped would be used to augment Lord Anthony’s squadron. But Admiral Graves being an admiral and Gabe being a lieutenant, the men went where Graves dictated.