Richard Bolitho – Midshipman

Bring her up another point and she'll not answer.' Bolitho took a glass from a rack by the compass box and trained it towards the land. As he steadied it through the maze of shrouds and vibrating halliards he saw the faces of some of the seamen loom towards him, and wondered what they were thinking as the brig headed for the shore, to the place where their pain and humiliation had begun. "Then he saw the headland, jutting out in a welter of breakers like the prow of a Roman galley. How different it had looked from the cutter, all that while ago. He had to shake himself to realize it was only yesterday. The sea looked rougher, and driven by the gusty wind was surging amongst a necklace of rocks as if to beckon them all to destruction. There was a dull bang, and when he swung aft towards the frigate he saw a smear of smoke moving rapidly with the wind. Starkie said, 'Just a sighting shot. She's too lively to hit us at this range.' Bolitho did not reply. He was watching the frigate's great foresail writhing and puffing in disorder as her captain brought her up into the wind. She was almost in irons when the foresail filled and hardened again, the lee gunports heeling down until they were awash. Dancer said, 'She's worked across our stern, Dick.' 'Yes. She intends to take the wind gage from us.' He still kept his eyes on the frigate until they watered painfully. 'But it means she will stand the closer inshore when we pass the headland.' Dancer stared at him. 'Can we really get through?' Starkie heard him and called, 'You'll be asking if we can walk on water next! ' He seized the wheel and added his own strength to the helmsmen's. 'Watch your head, damn you! ' Another bang. This time Bolitho saw the white feathers of spray kicking across each line of waves as the ball skipped past their stern. He looked at the Sandpiper's six-pounders. Very t suitable for hit-and-run attacks on enemy merchant- › men, or for running down pirates and smugglers. For taking on a frigate they were useless. 'Send another good lookout aloft, Martyn.' He staggered as the deck shook violently in a sudden ‹ trough. 'The Gorgon may be in sight.' But there was no sign of the big seventy-four. Just the pursuing frigate, and the first view of the island on the far side of the bay. As before, it looked pale and strangely tranquil in the early sunlight, and it was hard to accept all that had happened there. Starkie had said earlier that the island was even now packed with wretched slaves, men and young girls who had been gathered by the traders from all parts of Africa. And before long many of them would be sailing west to the Americas and the Indies. If they were lucky they might end their days in comfortable captivity, rather like dependent servants. Those less fortunate would eke out their lives like animals. When their usefulness was over, their strength used up, they would be discarded. Bolitho had heard it said that slave ships, like the oared galleys of Spain, could be traced at sea by their terrible smell. The stench of bodies crammed together, unable to move, incapable of making even the simplest comfort for themselves. Bang. A ball hissed overhead and slapped through the foretopsail like an iron fist. 'Closer.' Starkie had his thumbs in his belt, his eyes fixed on the frigate. 'He's overhauling us more quickly now.' 'Deck there! Breakers on the lee bow! ' Starkie ran to the rail and snatched a glass. 'Aye, that's 'em. The first line of reefs.' He glared aft at the helmsmen. 'Let her fall off a point! ' The wheel creaked, and brought a protest of flapping canvas from the topgallants. 'Sou' by east, sir! ' 'Steady as you go! ' Bolitho could tell from the worsening motion, the way every spar and sail seemed to be quivering in protest, that they were entering shallower water and crossing a fierce undertow. Starkie said, 'Better shorten sail.' Bolitho looked at him, his voice almost pleading. 'If we do, he'll take us before he's in any danger.' The master's mate eyed him impassively. 'As you say.' Eden scrambled through the canting companion, his eyes frightened as he peered astern for the enemy. 'Mr Hope is c-calling for y-you, Dick.' He ducked as the frigate's bow-chaser hurled a shot close abeam, throwing a waterspout high into the air like a surfacing whale. Bolitho nodded. Til go to him. Call me if anything happens.' Starkie was peering through his telescope at the nearest line of breakers. By allowing his ship to fall downwind just a trifle he had brought the bowsprit and tapering jib boom almost in line with the tell-tale surf. He said over his shoulder, 'Don't worry. You'll know.' Bolitho groped his way from the companion ladder and entered the small, hutch-like cabin. Hope was sprawling in a cot, his eyes very bright as Bolitho bent over him. 'I've heard that the fourth lieutenant is unwell?' His face was ashen. 'Damn him, why did he hold off his attack?' He was rambling vaguely. 'My shoulder. Oh God, they'll lop off my arm when we get to the ship.' The pain and the despair seemed to steady him. 'Are you managing?' Bolitho forced a smile. 'We have a good master's mate on deck, sir. Mr Dancer and I are trying to look like veterans.' Another dull bang penetrated the humid cabin, and Bolitho felt the hull tremble as a ball slammed down hard alongside. Too close. Hope gasped, 'You cannot fight a frigate! ' 'Would you have me strike, sir?' ' He shut his eyes and groaned with pain. 'I don't know. I only understand that I should be helping you. Doing something. Instead…' Bolitho watched his desperation with new understanding.