Blinded by the blowing snow, it was necessary to have some means to determine just where in the harbor the ship might be.
The leadsmen were having difficulties. It was necessary to swing that lead weight far enough ahead to allow it to sink so the lead line was vertical in the water to allow the leadsman to read off the depth. And, it had to be done over and over again, constantly. Judging the bottom this way was the only means they had of determining their position in this weather.
With the frigid temperatures and the icy water from the lead line, the hands of the leadsmen became useless after only a few minutes. Exposed to the full force of the frigid wind and spray, their bare hands soon became numb and their fingers unable to distinguish the differing materials attached to the lead line every fathom. Without that touch, it would be easy to mistake a depth by a fathom or more. Men were brought up from below deck every half glass to take over the lead. Unfortunately, there were few trained leadsmen on board who could almost instinctively read off the depth of the sea.
It seemed they had been only under weigh a few minutes when they flashed by the silent, snow-covered outline of the British frigate. There was no indication she had seen them, and there would not have been time to respond anyway. The sun nominally came out shortly after leaving harbor, but there would be no sight of it today. The snow lasted until midmorning and by then they were out of sight of the blockading fleet and the shore. Lookouts were replaced every glass because of the frigid temperatures, especially for those aloft exposed to the full force of the wind. A humane captain might have brought them down in this weather, but their eyes were necessary to keep the ship and crew safe from patrolling blockade ships. Every ship she would spot would likely be a probably foe, and they must be spotted in time for the sloop to evade.
USS Ethen Allen sailed west until well out in the Gulf Stream where she patrolled for the enemy trade. Much of the commerce from the islands in the Caribbean came this way and the sloop of war was in the proper position to interfere. An order in council over in Britain had decreed all commercial shipping must sail in convoy, but that was not certain protection.
A week after venturing out, the lookout spotted a north-bound convoy. Dozens of ships of varying sizes in two columns, wending their way north toward Halifax. An old 64 gun line-of battle ship took the van, off the windward column. A brig of 16 guns was off the windward column in the center, and a sleek 32 gun frigate brought up the rear.
About the time the Ethen Allen’s lookout spotted them, the signal flags began working on the escorts, so there would be no hope of surprise.
The American sloop of war took up station herself to windward of the convoy forward of the brig, almost as if she too was one of the escort. It soon became obvious that some of the cargo ship masters were now becoming nervous since there was much jockeying for position, and the flag signals were constantly busy. The escorts found it necessary to fire guns to enforce their commands, and Harrison was glad he was not one of those escort commanders.
The convoy seemed not to be as tight as it had been when it was first observed. Occasionally, he found it enjoyable to make a run at the convoy. Once he sailed right into the port column then came back through the scattering ships back out to windward again. There was not an opportunity to snatch up a quick prize, since he well knew the brig and then probably the frigate, would have been on him immediately had he done so.
This did not seem to disturb the escorts all that much, but many of the merchant ships would break formation to escape the perceived threat. This would have been stressful on some of them, since many masters sailed with depleted crews. Then again, it was not unknown for one of the escorting vessels to come alongside a merchant and press a few crew members. The result was, with insufficient crew aboard, some merchants had a difficult time with the added sail handling caused by the maneuvering.
All of this maneuvering gave Harrison’s men some much needed drill at sail handling. As nightfall neared, he began informing his key people of his plans.
There was still heavy cloud cover and a rough sea when he made his move. With no starlight or moon, it was about as dark as it could be. Letting out some reefs, he began moving up the line of ships. His people could keep a fair idea of their position in relation to the convoy since most of the ships were showing some kind of light. Not so the Allen. His first officer had gone around the ship at dusk checking for light. Those people with tobacco were told to either chew it or throw it over the side. No smoking or lights of any kind were to be permitted.
At length, they were at the van. The big 64 gun liner was up there plodding along and some of the merchantmen had broken their column and clustered around her as if they were chicks huddling around the mother hen. Unseen, Allen eased over to starboard, closing a heavy looking brigantine as she labored along a few places astern of the battleship.
He was well aware he had little chance of successfully taking one of these ships as prize. In the first place, should he try, one or another of the escorts would be on him at once. Even if he did take one, and get it away from the convoy, he would never get it past the blockade. With his gunners having been ordered to fire high at the rigging, he came alongside and gave the target a broadside. The attack brought instant panic to the convoy. Merchant ships began breaking out of column and scattering in every direction.
Harrison took the opportunity to scatter himself. The massive 64 was coming around in her ponderous manner, and he wanted nothing to do with being a target for her big guns. Fortunately, the cluster of shipping around her precluded her from firing off her broadside.
In minutes, the sloop was racing away from the ships and was well out of reach of the blundering ship-of-the-line. Next morning, he saw the brigantine he had fired upon. She was lying broad to the swells, shrouds had been severed and her foremast was broken beneath the top. The brigantine was attempting to solve the problem with the few men she had aboard. Miles away, her absence had just been noted with the dawn, and the brig was rushing back to the rescue.
Captain Harrison was not in the least concerned about that brig. If he so desired, he knew he could fight her to a standstill, and make her his prize. That would be foolish though. The Royal Navy had dozens of escort brigs. The US Navy had only a few sloops and they were much too valuable to fritter away on ill-conceived individual actions. A fight between the two would likely leave both crippled to some extent. There would be an hour before the brig arrived so he sent the launch with an armed party over to the crippled vessel. They put the crew of the brigantine into her own boats and fired the prize. This would be one load of sugar which would never reach London. His crew was back aboard the sloop long before the brig arrived, and he took the time to dip his flag to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Phillips, although with a fair idea of where to look for the pirate now, knew it would still be a long search. The suspicion was she would be in one of her hiding holes in the innumerable bays and tiny harbors around Puerto Rico and the outlying islands. It could take quite a time before she was found, if she ever was. In the meantime, the larder was becoming low.
While there was still biscuit and pork, they were down to the bottom tier of casks of the salt beef. Occasionally, a bad cask was opened, and at this stage of the game, such a discovery could have unfortunate consequences. He decided this would be a good time to replenish his supplies. San Juan was just over the horizon, and while the Spanish government was often downright hostile to warships of other countries visiting their shores, the Regency government of Spain was, in fact, allied with Britain.
HMS Roebuck sailed into San Juan Bay and was greeted by a gun from the defensive fortifications. Phillips noted the seriousness with which the Spanish defenders took their entrance into the harbor, when an actual shot impacted the sea a cable’s distance from them. The ship was immediately hove to at the warning and a boat bearing a white flag was launched. Lieutenant Wilson was permitted to land on shore and disappeared among a group of military off
icers waiting at the water’s edge.
Later that day, Wilson returned to the boat and boarded Roebuck with a lengthy document he was to give to Phillips. A low-echelon clerk of the Spanish military service accompanied him to explain the various rules of the region and to translate for them.
Wilson had already made the preliminary arrangements while on shore and Phillips learned salt beef in casks would be brought out in barges to the ship at its mooring out in harbor. The ship herself would not be allowed to come closer to shore, but seamen, in small groups, would be permitted to go ashore, so long as they caused no trouble.
Well familiar with the ease a British seaman could get in trouble in a foreign port, Phillips decided then not to allow his people to leave the ship. Wilson had mentioned their hope to locate the pirate frigate that was causing so much trouble in the region and bring her in. The military commander with whom Wilson had discussed this with, was not un-responsive to the idea. That pirate ship ‘Hortense’ had caused plenty of financial trouble and misery all around the Caribbean.
Don Quevido, the local military commander however, was dubious of the ability of the British ship to take the pirate. He explained the rovers had been removing the guns from every ship they took, and now had quite an arsenal aboard the frigate. Also, they had somehow acquired a man to train and operate the ship in a more professional manner.
Quevedo greatly feared the pirates would overcome the small British warship easily enough, taking her into their service, and then the region would be confronted with a pair of pirate ships. The Spanish forces however would not prevent the Britons to do what they could against the pirates.
Taking aboard the needed supplies and water, even some additional powder purchased from the huge defensive fortress, Roebuck set out again.
She sailed up past Cuba and through the straits between that island and Florida. Phillips was tempted to sail northward up the mainland coast to Georgia or the Carolinas, with the object of taking a few Yankee merchantmen, but decided not to. At this stage of the war, few American ships were at sea and any that were afloat would likely be snatched up by one or another of the blockading fleet anyway. He sailed instead, east and south along the Atlantic coat of Cuba, looking into any bays or harbors he saw.
Phillips was not interested in the major ports, since the Spanish forces, naval and military, were just as angered by the piratical depredations as were the British, and would have surely noticed the presence of the pirate ship. However, the frigate could sail into some small bay or fishing port and compel the locals there to assist them. Too, they would need a place to dispose of the goods they had managed to take. With nothing remarkable noted, Roebuck continued her voyage. Near to the eastern end of the island, a small island schooner hove into sight one morning. It was a chance meeting. She had just put out from a small island offshore when Roebuck came along.
She let fly her sheets at the shouted command from the Spanish speaking crewman aboard the post ship, and came to a stop. Mister Richardson, a midshipman Phillips felt was coming right along, went over to her with his launch crew and the translator. After the examination, the lad bought a large turtle the schooner’s crew had captured, and sent the relieved people on their way.
Phillips and Hornady went over to examine the enormous green turtle the lad had brought back to the ship. It was realized the beast was too large for the gunroom mess so Hornady bought it from the lad for the wardroom, with shares to go to the captain and the gunroom. With that important issue out of the way, Phillips asked Richardson what the schooner’s crew had to say of their quarry.
The lad stated they had been chased by a big frigate two days earlier but had escaped by sailing closer to the wind than their pursuers were able. The crewmen of the small craft doubted it could be the pirate since all previous reports had it that the pirate was a shabby, run-down ship. This one showed signs of naval smartness, with her sails and rigging in good order and the ship handling what one might expect from a ship with perhaps a rather junior officer in charge of the deck.
Phillips decided this latter frigate might be from some other navy, scouting opportunities here in the tangled confusion of the Spanish territories.
Roebuck continued past Cuba back to Puerto Rico. This time paying close attention to the numerous islands. One fine Sunday morning found them anchored in a tiny bay on the lee side of a small island. It was a beautiful place with a fine beach and a thick forest behind the beach. It had been a lengthy period at sea and Phillips felt the men were becoming jaded. Accordingly, he gave instructions that port and starboard watches would be granted alternating liberty ashore.
Mister Hastings, their Marine officer would take a party of Marines ashore and examine the near jungle behind the beach for threats. Assuming no danger was evident, the first watch would proceed ashore while the watch on board would be vigilant for any danger.
Phillips accompanied Hastings ashore, taking along his rifle. Once past the beach, they entered the forest. It was difficult penetrating the thick jungle cover at first but they soon came to a clearing, halting when they heard the excited clatter of teeth from a group of pigs. Most were of small size, but one sow was probably close to 200 pounds.
The rifle was already loaded and at half cock. When that sow began looking as if she was about to attack, Phillips levelled the long rifle. She was less than fifty yards away, and could be a danger should she attack. Knowing his weapon would shoot a little high at this range, he placed the front bead on her upper neck and squeezed off the shot. Immediately, Hastings fired his musket at one of the smaller pigs and both animals dropped where they stood. The ball from Phillips’ rifle took her in the mouth and entered her brain, killing her instantly.
The two officers stood by their kills while the corporal took the Marines on a quick scout to see if the shots had been noticed.
The corporal reported upon his return that he had seen no sign of another human being here. With this news, the pigs were dressed out and the carcasses carried out to the beach on poles. At the sight of the meat the liberty men on the beach immediately began building a fire and soon the smell of roasting pork filled the air.
After consuming a few slices of the fresh meat, Phillips returned to Roebuck and relieved Mister Layton. The first officer then began shuttling the men on the ship to the beach, bringing the sated members of the first watch back to the ship.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Master Commandant Harrison stood by the windward rail of his quarterdeck with some difficulty. The sloop was pitching like a wild horse under him. Even after a lifetime at sea, his stomach was telling him it had nearly had enough. He had been exercising his mind for days, ever since he had first received these orders, studying just how he was going to carry them out.
Patrolling the seas off New England was not producing any results. Convoys were few and far between, and when they were found, produced few positive results, at least for his ship and the US Navy. He had not been able to duplicate the success of the attack on that first convoy soon after his escape from Boston. The shipping he did meet with all had capable, aggressive escorts.
Every day, looking over the reports from his department heads, he saw the consumable stores depleting steadily. Men were also being expended. Robert Jenson had been swept off the pitching deck by a rogue sea two nights ago. He went down immediately in the icy sea and was never seen again. Two men had been ruptured with the strenuous work required at sea and Ben Wilson had his foot crushed when the gun he was serving rolled over it. The surgeon doubted the foot could be saved.
He felt he was wasting his time now, but what else could he do? The blockade was strangling the ability of American ships to put to sea, naval and well as merchant. If he returned to port, there was no way to know if the ship could ever escape to sea again. As long as he was still out here, there must be some constructive action he could take.
The thought crossed his mind to cross the Atlantic, to take the battle to the enemy on his own shores. The
problem was, he would be far from a friendly haven, and he had to expect his losses in men and stores were going to continue or even mount. Of course, he could always seek refuge in a French port, but he felt the blockade on those ports was probably as severe as was the one on the ports on the American coast. If he was to be blockaded, would it not be better to be home, rather than in a foreign country?
In the end, he decided to sail south, and at least make an effort to find that pirate the new Secretary of the Navy was upset with. He was almost certain he would not find a trace of the fellow or his ship, but at least they would be away from the cold weather. Too, there were all those British controlled islands with numerous ships sailing between them. Surely he could collect a few of them.
Having made up his mind, he called for his first officer. Mister Laird was a solemn Puritan, and not a joy to the fellow members of the wardroom, but he was a competent officer who was perfectly in tune with the ship. Phillips rather wished he was not so strict with the hands as to their language, but was willing to ignore his foibles and hoped the hands could learn to do so as well.
Mister Laird came up from below, with the expected sour look on his face. Harrison had planned on discussing the new plan with his second-in-command, but was put off by the man’s expression and merely informed him he was going to his cabin to warm up a bit. He ordered Laird to put the ship on a course that would take them to the Caribbean. They were going pirate hunting.
Across to America: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 9) Page 15
