Sails Across the Sea: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 8) (16 page)

It was good to be back home again. His mother was happy to see him but had few words to say to her husband. His parents had had their ups and downs over the years. Apparently this was one of her ‘down’ days. John, being used to the silent treatment, ignored his wife. That afternoon, Tim had the groom saddle one of his father’s hunters and rode over to see Charlotte Norris, a neighbor woman who had filled an important part of Tim’s childhood. At times, when his real mother was having one of her episodes, Charlotte served as a sort of default mother, giving him the love and affection his own mother could not.

Charlotte was a wealthy woman with a young son. She did have a husband somewhere who had not been seen in years. She had been impregnated by one of his father’s old seamen, a capable man able to do almost anything a person could wish. He served her in various capacities for years. The man loved Charlotte deeply, but she had not wished to encumber herself with another man, so gave him the position of manager of an estate elsewhere in the county which she had foreclosed on. Both parties seemed content with the relationship and Tim knew better than to comment or ask.

He wished to speak to Charlotte about investment advice. They had spoken last time he had visited about purchasing property and he had left her a large sum of money with which to purchase whatever she found. Most people would find this was a strange and foolish way of doing business. After all, he had given her a case full of large bills without even asking for a receipt.

He was sure the funds were safe in her hand and was perfectly satisfied with the arrangement. After their enthusiastic greeting and another greeting with his younger sister Abigail, who lived with Charlotte, she called for horses and announced they would all ride over to look at some property. The place was an hour’s ride away, and the trio had a chance to do much reminiscing on the ride.

Initially, it was a disappointment to Tim. The house and outbuildings were in poor repair, apparently having been built centuries before from stone blocks taken from the ruins of a long crumbled castle on a nearby hill. The meadows and fields seemed fertile and were presently being utilized by numerous red cattle. Charlotte pointed out, while a new roof was needed, the basic structure was sound. She felt that a team of good workers could have the buildings in good repair within a month. She invited him to ride out to examine the fields and meadows, and they spent the afternoon riding the boundaries. The previous owner had died leaving no heirs. She had purchased the estate from a young man who owned a note against the property. Apparently, the young man’s father had loaned money to a friend that owned the property. The funds were never repaid, both parties had died and the young man just wanted to go to London and live on the money as long as it lasted.

Although provided with enough money to pay for it by Tim, Charlotte had used her own funds to pay for it. She said if Tim did not want it, she would gladly keep it for herself. If he did want it, she would sell it to him for what she had paid. She offered to have one of her people supervise the repair of the buildings while he was at sea next.

Unable to say much about his real reason for being home just then, he told Charlotte and Abigail there was a little difficulty that made it difficult for him to remain in England for lengthy periods, at least for the time being. He assured them he had done nothing criminal and the First Lord was assisting him to secure another ship. He did expect a summons any day now to take command of a ship.

Tim and Charlotte rode into town where they met Charlotte’s solicitor. After signing the papers, Tim was now the owner of his own place. There was still enough of Tim’s funds in Charlotte’s possession to pay workers to make the necessary repairs.

After all the events of the past week, Tim was exhausted but elated when he rode back to his parent’s place and informed both he had purchased his own place. John knew it well, having ridden by it numerous times. His mother wondered if she could come and stay with him. Not knowing just how to answer this, Tim told her the place was just a pile of stones piled on each other. It would be necessary to do major repairs before it became livable.

With the news out of the way, John drew him into the smoking room and landed him a letter that had come in that day’s post. With the Admiralty seal, Tim knew before opening it, it was likely the summons to a new ship.

And, so it was. He was ordered to report on board HMS Andromeda at the Nore anchorage before the end of the week. He was to read himself in and inform Lord Eckersley of the date he expected to sail. Further orders would be sent to him by messenger.

He had never seen the Andromeda before. He expected it would be another sloop-of –war like Badger, requiring a commander as her captain.

He was astonished when his father informed him the vessel was a twenty four gun, twelve pounder post ship that needed a post captain to command her.

HMS Andromeda, a sixth-rate post ship was anchored well out, probably to deter crew from slipping overboard and swimming to shore. Tim Phillips had taken rooms ashore with his father. He penned a note to the first officer of the ship, announcing his intention to come aboard this same afternoon. He looked for a ship’s boat he could give the note to deliver, but there were none at the landing or close by offshore. He selected a small fishing smack preparing to put out for a day’s work. He paid them to drop by the Andromeda and deliver the note.

He had not asked the ship to send a boat, but at noon, a beautifully finished gig approached the landing, remaining just offshore. A youth in the immaculate uniform of a midshipman sat stiffly in the sternsheets. The boat crew were all dressed in identical uniforms and it was plain had gone to much trouble to present a good appearance.

Both father and son went down to the landing and stood. Both were in uniform, Phillips Senior clad in the uniform of a senior captain, while his son wore that of a commander. The boat beached, and a crew pulled it up far enough so the men could step in dry shod.

The only word uttered on the long pull out to the ship was Tim Phillip’s question about who was in command at the moment, with the midshipman reporting the first officer being in command.

That officer was standing at the entry port with the ship’s Royal Marines, the requisite side-boys and the bosun’s mates with their pipes. Seeing the elder Phillips’ epaulettes, the lieutenant at first confused him as being the new ship’s captain until Tim produced his orders, handed them to the officer and asked him to read them to the assembled crew.

Adjourning to the cabin, the first officer, Lieutenant Henderson introduced himself, stating he had just come aboard himself a week ago. When asked the whereabouts of the former ship’s captain, Henderson said both the captain and former first officer had left for London moments after he had reported aboard. He did not wish to speculate over the reason, but a quick glance at the log showed there had been dissention between the two officers, coming to a head when the previous first officer challenged the captain. This being against Royal Navy policy, first the lieutenant was ordered to London to face his inquiry. Then, Admiralty seemingly having discovered reasons for the dispute, called for the captain also.

John Phillips whistled at the news. “It will be a long spell before they go to sea again. Admiralty will never put up with these situations, no matter who is right or wrong.”

Fortunately, there had been a complete inventory taken by the previous captain and signed onto by the new first officer.

Phillips took his time before making any changes aboard ship. The log showed discipline problems had been minor. Finding the ship had been anchored in place for a month, Phillips asked for and received permission to take the ship to sea for short, day-long exercises to check the crew’s proficiency at sail and gun drill.

He had no complaints with the men’s sail handling, but their gun drill was abysmal. Apparently they had never actually fired their guns. Even the small allotment of ammunition allowed by the Admiralty had never been used.

The men were used to merely running the guns in and out of the ports in simulation. Phillips had not had the opportunity yet to acquire extra ammunition of his own for practice use. He did use up the practice allotment though. After keeping the men at practice for an hour, he allowed each gun to fire one round. This burned up slightly over the allotment, and he could well be charged for it if he could not come up with a reason that would satisfy the officials,

The day finally came when a Royal Navy launch and boat crew hooked on alongside and a dapper midshipman climbed aboard with a sealed message. This ordered him to proceed to Portsmouth and report to the port admiral there.

Receiving permission to get under way, they pulled up anchor and set sail just as soon as the mail boat returned from shore.

On the way to Portsmouth, lookouts were ordered to keep an extra sharp eye open for enemy shipping. He knew well at this stage of the war, good prizes were few and far between, but even a barge bearing cabbages was fair game so long as she was under the French flag. He would then have an excuse for firing a few guns without incurring the wrath of the service. No such targets tempted them. The only shipping encountered were some colliers and many fishing boats, all British, of course.

At Portsmouth, Andromeda saluted the flag and received the signal to send an officer ashore. With Lieutenant Henderson being the only other officer on board, Phillips decided to go himself. He received a warrant from a bored civilian official to catch the next coach to London and report to the Admiralty there,

Having just recently come from the Admiralty, Phillips wondered just how necessary this trip really was. However he had the order and the warrant. There were some hours to wait for the next coach, so he used that time to visit a chandler and arrange for more cabin stores. The chandler did not normally have powder and shot in stock but he did know where to obtain the material. He gave the chandler his note of hand in payment and went to the inn where he settled down with a quart of beer and a paper while he waited for the London coach. Hopefully the supplies would be sent aboard the ship while he travelled.

Purchasing pen, ink and paper from the innkeeper he penned a note to Mister Henderson and sent it by messenger, advising him of his destination and requesting he take aboard the supplies the chandler would be delivering.

The visit to the Admiralty was brief. Lord Eckersley apologizing for the necessity of requiring him to make the journey. He quickly explained the purpose of his next voyage.

“We have an important official travelling to South America. He must visit the Spanish Province of Venezuela, at the port of Caracas. HM Government has heard reports of an uprising there and our diplomat is charged to see what can be done with the situation. Your ship will have already received visitors from the Portsmouth dockyard to examine the possibility of constructing quarters for the diplomat and his entourage. They will of necessity occupy a portion of the great cabin of Andromeda. It is unfortunate your ship is of such a small size, but at this state of the war, we just do not have a line-of-battle ship to spare, which otherwise might be more appropriate. The diplomat, by the way, will be Lord Forsythe, with whom I think you are familiar. It was his wife that you returned from the Mediterranean.”

Bon Voyage, Captain!”