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CHAPTER THREE

  “You seem to have the capacity to upset the Lords of the Admiralty on more than one occasion, Lieutenant Hendry,” said the fair haired man in the same room, in the same club and in the same company.

  Lt. Hendry was of medium build, stocky and had a chin that protruded, covered by a red beard. His whole demeanor suggested a stubborn and pugnacious nature. His light blue eyes sparkled as he opened his mouth to speak. “No you don’t have to defend yourself here, lieutenant, it is that very attitude that recommends you to us.”

  The fair-haired man pushed away a copy of Hendry’s naval record that he had somehow acquired.

  “You have no quarms about resigning your commission?” asked someone. Hendry cleared his throat and spoke for the first time; he had a slight Devon accent.

  “None at all, Sir. I am on half pay, on shore and have absolutely no chance of another command; my naval career is in effect over.”

  “You have no objections to a voyage that could last over two years? Have you pushed the boundaries on occasion and entered uncharted waters?” asked another.

  “None, Sir. I would relish such a challenge.”

  “And you would accept a captain’s pay plus prize money, even though you will be capturing no ships,” said yet another.

  “I take it that I would have no letter of marque from the King,” asked Hendry. The room filled with chuckles.

  “Unfortunately no, Lieutenant, those days are long gone.” The fair-haired man looked around the company and received a series of nods. “Could you await in the adjoining room Lieutenant; we shall not keep you waiting long, I can assure you.” Hendry nodded to the company, pushed his chair back with a squeak and left the room.

  “Well?” asked the fair-haired man.

  “I think he will do admirably,” said one and others nodded.

  “We are agreed then?” asked the fair-haired man and canvassed the nods. “We are agreed; then send for Captain Hendry.” When Hendry had reseated the fair-haired man smiled, stood up and shook his hand. “Welcome aboard, Captain Hendry.”

  Richard watched the ship fill with the new crew and officers, and to avoid being at the beck and call of all of them Jamie gave him the task of checking the stores as they came aboard. Richard could read, write and record until the purser arrived a few days later. He looked at the long list and wondered where to put it all, but the crew knew where to stow everything. The list read: 10,000 pieces of pork; 8,000 pieces of beef; 12 tons of bread; 8 tons of flour; 7 tons of pickled cabbage; 3 tons of raisins; 100 cheeses; 100 pounds of salt; 30 barrels of fish oil; 500 pounds of oatmeal; 500 barrels of beer; 70 keggs of brandy and 30 of rum. All this to feed 120 men for an undisclosed period.

  While Richard recorded the stores as they were winched aboard he remembered how his mean uncle used to chuckle at the ways his chandlery used to cheat their customers, knowing that spoilage could occur for any number of reasons after months at sea. One of these was to empty out meat from the suppliers, refill the barrel with meat on the turn that had been purchased for next to nothing and reseal the barrel. The sealing was then colored to match the originals but when scraped revealed its newness. Richard applied this test and soon found a doctored barrel. He passed on his suspicions to Jamie, who had the barrel re–hoisted and then released to smash open on the deck. The semi-putrid pork caused the crew to gag.

  “Well, Dick me laddie, it seems like we have a visit to make to the chandler, but first check all the stores on the dock and supply me with a list.” Jamie slapped a not-so-gentle hand on Richard’s shoulder.

  Jamie seemed to have something against doors: he slammed the chandler’s door back so hard the tongue of the doorbell flew off and landed at the feet of a startled clerk. He froze, ink dripping off his quill as two huge sailors framed the door, and Jamie advanced with Richard across the polished floor.

  “Where is the proprietor of this scummy establishment?” Jamie roared. The clerk dropped his quill and stood up.

  “He is in his office Sir; I will see if he is available,” he muttered. There was no need; a thin bird like man with a beak for a nose came to a door behind the clerk and looked down his beak, then up to Jamie.

  “What is the meaning of this outrage? Begone before I fetch a magistrate!” the man shrieked.

  “Outrage?” Jamie yelled, “Nae I will show you an outrage!” Jamie took a bucket from one of the sailors and emptied it over the proprietor’s head. Rotten pork poured off his bald head and lodged in his collar and pockets. The fouled brine soaked his clothes and the smell was unbearable. The proprietor kept his mouth shut in case something vile entered it.

  “Did you really think you could cheat on your supplies just because the ship has a foreign name and most likely never see Tilbury again?” Jamie’s voice was now ice cold. “Well, think again laddie.” Jamie withdrew a pocket telescope and a razor-sharp filleting knife from his jacket. “Here is a new contract: all the barrels are to be replaced and the ones that have been delivered will not be returned. The barrels of spirits will be gratis and are not listed. My men and our acting purser will stay with you until delivery is completed and if I hear one word of protest I will use this telescope to find your shrunken wee balls and use this knife to cut them out. Furthermore every ship in the south of England will hear of your untrustworthinessod if you are in agreement.” The proprietor nodded and then fell into a faint. The second sailor emptied a bucket of clean water over him. Jamie stamped out and slammed the door. This time the bell flew off.

  Word of Richard’s exposé never reached the newly arrived Captain. Richard was learning the way of the sea: the officers took the credit and the ratings took the blame; he would have to be content with Jamie’s approval.

  Captain Hendry had come aboard the previous day, stopped at the top of the gangplank, looked towards the quarterdeck and almost saluted. The Bosun, an experienced old hand, had a pipe in his hand just in case, but the Captain shook his head and went to his cabin. He had not been seen for two days but had received several visitors including obvious naval officers out of uniform. Richard had taken food to the cabin, been told to leave it on the chart table and return later for the trays and plates. Richard had been allowed to remain in the former midshipman’s quarters although pushed into a small corner space; the other bunks were filled by three junior officers, one barely older than himself. This quasi-officer status confused the crew, so they avoided Richard, a situation no doubt orchestrated by Jamie.

  Richard had been given a crew list to copy and some of the appointments surprised him. There were the usual number of sailors, ancillary tradesmen and ratio of officers, but cartographers, bursar, doctor, sailing master and gunnery officer were all staffed by very experienced and senior personnel. This was reflected by their pay scale. Where ever Subtile was going, she was well over-crewed.

  Richard’s former lifestyle ensured he was always awake at five a.m. He had not learned how to convert that into bells. The thud of bare feet and bustle on the top deck drew him topside where Jamie ordered him to stand by the stern deck. Richard felt completely at a loss as experienced hands readied the ship to cast off, harried by the Bosun who was relaying orders from the officers. One single large mainsail thumped into place and the ship strained like a dog on a leash ready to break free. A light breeze filled the sail like a pregnant belly groaning and stretching to its limit. But even the wind had to wait for the Captain. Captain Hendry walked confidently to the quarter-deck, nodded to Jamie and took up a position behind the helmsman.

  “Very well, First Officer, you may cast off and position us mid stream,” he ordered.

  The shore workers had been holding the lines looped around bollards, and as they unwound them the lines hissed away towards the departing vessel like snakes. Crewmembers hauled them in and wound them into neat coils. Subtile eased into midstream, causing smaller vessels to scatter and reset courses, their good natured curses being returned with interest by the crew. Subtile headed downstream for the mouth of the
Thames.

  Captain Hendry retired to his cabin to open his sealed orders. He was no longer a serving naval officer but this expedition had a very military manner about it. Hendry opened his orders and read for ten minutes, stopped, rubbed his eyes and reread them. It was not so much what was in the orders but in what was missing, and this gave the Captain large parameters in which to maneuver. In essence his orders were to sail to or near the Dutch East Indies via the Cape of Good Hope, use his initiative to obtain items of wealth that could be easily stowed, then sail south into uncharted waters to discover a new continent that was thought to exist. He was to claim it for England and recover any wealth for the benefit of the shareholders. Copies of Abel Tasman’s pacific charts from a hundred years previous were attached. The name Subtile would remain to hopefully confuse the ship’s nationality. Hendry suspected the good ship’s doctor’s additional ecclesiastical training would be sorely tested.