An Eye of the Fleet Read Free

Sandwich’s navy in particular was not a matter to concern Drinkwater for grander spectacles were before him. As the gig drew close to the massive side of
Sandwich
Captain Hope drew the attention of Morris to something. The midshipman turned the boat head to sea.
    â€˜Oars!’ he ordered and the blades rose dripping to the horizontal.
    Drinkwater looked round for some reason for this cessation of activity. There was none as far as he could see. Looking again at
Sandwich
he noted a flurry about her decks.
    Glittering officers in blue and white, pointed polished telescopes astern, in the direction of Portsmouth. Drinkwater could just see the crowns of the marines’ black hats as they fell in. Then a drum rolled and the black specks were topped by a line of silver bayonets as the marines shouldered arms. A pipe shrilled out and all activity aboard
Sandwich
ceased. The great ship seemed to wait expectantly as a small black ball rose to the truck of her mainmast.
    Then round her stern and into view from
Cyclop
’s gig swept an admiral’s barge. At its bow fluttered the red cross of St George. The oarsmen bent to their task with unanimous precision, their red and white striped shirts moving in unison, their heads crowned by black beavers. A small dapper midshipman stood upright in the stern, hand on tiller. His uniform was immaculate, his hat set at a rakish angle. Drinkwater stared down at his own crumpled coat and badly cobbled trousers; he felt distinctly uncomfortable.
    Also in the stern of the barge sat an old-looking man wrapped in a boat cloak. The lasting impression made on Drinkwater was a thin, hard mouth, then the barge was alongside
Sandwich
and Admiral Sir George Brydges Rodney was ascending the side of his flagship. A squeal of pipes, a roll of drums and a twinkle of light as the bayonets flashed to the present; at the main masthead the black ball broke out and revealed itself as the red cross of St George. At this sight the guns of the fleet roared out in salute.
    Admiral Rodney had arrived to take command of the fleet.
    A few minutes later Drinkwater hurled his grapnel at
Sandwich
’s mainchains. By good fortune it held first time and, to indifferent ceremonial, Captain Hope reported to his superior.

Chapter Two
January 1780
The Danish Brig
    On New Year’s Day, 1780, Rodney’s armada was at sea. In addition to the scouting frigates and twenty-one line of battleships no less than three hundred merchantmen cleared the Channel that chill morning. In accordance with her instructions
Cyclops
was part of the escort attending the transports and so took no part in the action of 8th January.
    A Spanish squadron of four frigates, two corvettes and the 64-gun ship
Guipuscoaño
was encountered off Cape Finisterre with a convoy of fifteen merchantmen. The entire force was surrounded and taken. Prize crews were put on board and the captured vessels escorted back to England by the
Guipuscoaño
, renamed
Prince William
in honour of the Duke of Clarence then a midshipman with the fleet. The captured vessels which contained victuals were retained to augment the supplies destined for Gibraltar.
    As the concourse of ships plodded its slow way down the Iberian coast of the afternoon of the 15th, Drinkwater sat in the foretop of the
Cyclops
. It was his action station and he had come to regard it as something of his own domain, guarded as it was by its musket rests and a small swivel gun. Here he was free of the rank taint between decks, the bullying senselessness of Morris and here too, in the dog watches, he was able to learn some of the finer points of the seaman’s art from an able seaman named Tregembo.
    Young Nathaniel was quick to learn and impressed most of his superiors with his eager enthusiasm to attempt any task. But on this afternoon he was enjoying a rest, soaking up the unaccustomed luxury of January sunshine. It seemed impossible that only a couple of months previously he had known