by Smith, Skye
Since then, the fluyt had been the source of endless arguments between the town and the militia and the parliament, for each of them claimed it. As for the crew of that Friesburn, all they wanted was a salvage fee as was their due for throwing the fluyt a line. Unfortunately their claim for salvage was held up pending a decision of the three claims on the ship. How different that outcome would have been if the Friesburn had been fitted with a bowchaser. The fluyt's choice would then have been to sink or to surrender to the Friesburn, and the Wellenhay clan would have claimed the prize for themselves. They may even have kept the fluyt and worked it themselves. Daniel would once again demand their salvage fees.
At first light the crew of the Alice pulled their anchor up out of the sandbar, and sailed into the River Yale, which led them behind the sand peninsula that the town was built upon. The air hung heavy with morning mist and peat smoke from the cooking fires. Before the peat cutting industry had been put out of business by Newcastle coal, this town had supplied hearths with peat bricks as far away as London. To be fair, the demise was not just because of coal, but because the long pits carved by the peat cutters had eventually been flooded by the river. Nowadays when you wanted to cut peat, you first had to build a Dutch windmill to pump the water out of your pit.
No one met them on the quay, not even whores or pie vendors, which was not surprising for this was the slow season for ship arrivals, and it was too early in the morning for pies, and too cold for plunging necklines. What was surprising was that not even a custom's man or a quay toll collector met them. They pulled up behind two sister ships from Wellenhay, tied up, and then went into the cabin and crawled into their beds to wait for the food vendors to arrive.
It wasn't the town vendors who first noticed them, but the watch on the Freisburn Seven. He woke them with a hail and a jug of hot herbed ale. The skipper, Tom, came aboard with fresh baked bread, or in truth, fire baked half moons made by wrapping bread dough around a stick and holding the stick above a hot brazier. "Ere, Danny, what are you doin' aboard?” he asked the obvious.
"Salvage fees amongst other things,” Daniel replied. "Was it you who laid the first claim on the Avontuur?"
"Back in October, nay, that was Anso, but I well know the details. I ask after it every time we make this port. I'll do so again today."
"And Rob and I will come with you, if you don't mind,” Daniel said. "They must pay us. Without Anso's help the Avontuur would have broken up on the sands and be lost to everyone. What became of Dutch crew?"
"Sent back to Rotterdam on the first ship,” Tom replied. "In truth, what is holding back all claims on the ship is that the Dutch owner has also now petitioned our courts."
"Then it is lucky for us that we do not claim the ship but just a salvage fee,” Daniel said with a smirk. "Come and fetch me when you are leaving to make enquiries. Also, I need to know your orders from the militia. Are you to stay here and patrol offshore of Lowestoft, or do you have more cargo and passengers to deliver?"
"We have passengers and cargo, but they must wait. We have been told to patrol instead ... from Lowestoft to the horizon and back."
"I knew it,” Rob interrupted, in an excited voice. "They are expecting the queen's convoy to make for Lowestoft."
"Bacon buns, get your fresh bacon buns,” called a voice from the quay. Rob was almost trampled by the rush to get ashore. Once he joined the rush for the greasy treat, only Daniel and Tom were left talking.
"Why are you sleeping aboard when there must be inns and boarding houses galore in the town?” Daniel asked.
"What, us, sleep in the rat infested rows of Great Yarmouth,” Tom said sarcastically. "You must be jesting. The main town has not been allowed to grow outside its wall, so it is the most cramped and crowded town I have ever visited. Yee can't even push a barrow down some of the streets. Nay, when we need berths ashore we tie up on the Suffolk side of the river at Little Yarmouth quay where the wind blows through the windows of the inns and keeps a man healthy."
* * * * *
The two bailiffs of Great Yarmouth groaned as the men of the Wellenhay ships once again reminded them of their claim to salvage. The port, and therefore the town, was partially controlled by the admiralty and so it had no mayor. Instead bailiffs Thomas Crane and Robert Ferrier filled that function. "It is out of our hands,” the older of the two, Crane, told them. "Should the Adventure be ceded to the town, then we will pay you immediately, but until then we have no authority to pay."
"Why not? You two represent both the town and the admiralty,” Daniel argued. "You have the ship to secure the payment. Just pay up!"
"Let me,” Robert Blake interrupted his friend lest his temper ruin the arguement. "As I see it, the militia have already benefited because they immediately claimed the supplies and have been using them already. Parliament was handed the prisoners, many of them gentlemen of France and Germany and worth handsome ransoms, so they too have benefited. As for the Dutch owner, he knew the risks when he leased her out to the queen, and will have already have profited from her accordingly. As for the admiralty, if they want the ship they will charter it. So, with all this in mind, why doesn't the town buy Wellenhay's salvage claim. With Wellenhay out of the loop, the town could claim salvage from both the militia, which has already benefited, and parliament likewise."
"Let me make sure we understand you, sir,” Ferrier replied. "You mean to sell us the salvage claim and let us recover the cost from both the militia and parliament?” A knowing smile passed between Ferrier and Crane. The silence in the office was embarrassing.
"I can sign for Wellenhay,” Daniel filled the silence. "I do not require payment until the town is either paid out or given the Avontuur. In the meantime I ask that our ships be given toll free landings at Yarmouth quays, and that the crews be given room and board ashore while in port. Ugh, board in Little Yarmouth so the crews can be faster to their ships.” To himself he thought, "And so they aren't put up in some festering rat hole in The Rows."
Ferrier immediately held out his hand to shake on the deal before it could be retracted. These crews were small. Room and board would amount to little, and the militia never paid quay tolls in any case. It may be that the town would end up with half the value of the ship paid in salvage fees by each of the militia and parliament, and then still end up with the ship. Once paid themselves, they could bargain this fool out of his nightshirt. Thomas Crane and Robert Ferrier's eyes gleamed with greed as they shot glances to each other.
Rob sighed and stared at Daniel in frustration for making such a poor bargain. Daniel didn't care. To him it was more important that his ships and crews would always be welcome and protected in Great Yarmouth, for it was a first and last good English port on a crossing from and to Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Dunkirk, Calais and Dover.
Once they were walking towards the quays and out of hearing of the bailiff's men, both Tom and Rob spoke their minds at their dislike of the bargain Daniel had struck. Daniel shrugged and mumbled, "What has the unquestioned security within this port really cost us?' Eh? Just that one of our ships threw a line to another ship in distress and helped them off a sandbar. They would have done that in any case with no thought of salvage fees. Perhaps we will end up with a smaller fee, but now there is an incentive for the bailiffs to bargain the salvage fees. At least now we have some hope of being paid something."
"We may get as little as a tenth of what me may have got. That's what I am thinking of,” Tom replied quickly, "and so will Anso. He's a mighty big man to deal with if he doesn't like your bargain."
"We will still get a fat purse,” Daniel argued.
"Not with them bailiffs handling the purse, you won't."
"Will it make you feel better if we catch the ferry skiff over to Little Yarmouth right now and claim the best beds in the best inn for tonight?"
Tom stretched his back. "Aye, we should do that. I can't be too long, though, fer we're supposed to be at sea on patrol. But yeh. Let's go do that and try out their foo
d and make sure they serve bacon."
"What about your crew, Rob?” Daniel asked. "Are you setting out for Dorset today."
"I think not,” Rob replied. "Not if the queen is to make an appearance. I've got a cannon aboard now, and that could mean some prize money if one of the queen's other ships runs into trouble like the Avontuur did."
Tom grumbled, "What I can't understand is why Yarmouth needs Wellenhay's ships at all. This is a busy seaport with some grand sea going fishing boats. Why do they need us to do the patrolling?"
"It's our Bermuda rig,” Daniel interrupted. "The Bermudan's invented it out of a dire need. Bermuda is in the middle of nowhere, so if they get blown away from the island and can't get back, they are done for. It's much the same in the winter in Great Yarmouth. Because of our rig, our ships can go out on patrol, and still get back no matter what winds blow up. The local square riggers can't do that, so their skippers won't risk going out."
After inspecting the beds and kitchens of two boarding houses and one Inn they had the ferry skiff drop them back at their ships. There were four militia spotters waiting for them with their orders in hand. First they were to sail south along the coast past Lowestoft until they could see the church tower at Southwald, then they were to turn northeast as if their course was towards Friesland and sail until all they could see of the Norfolk coast were the highest church towers, and finally they were to turn due west towards Great Yarmouth and come back through the channels of the sandbars and into the River Yare. Tom estimated that the full loop may take six hours, so they would return in the twilight.
The spotters orders stated more than just the course. If they spotted the queen's convoy, one of the ships was to spread the alarm south along the coast as far as the first navy ship, likely in the Thames estuary. The other ship was to report it to Great Yarmouth and then put to sea again to spread the alarm along the coast to the north.
Shortly afterwards the two Friesburns set out with two spotters on each to sail the great triangle loop of the patrol. At sunset they returned to say that all saw was coastal herring skiffs.
That night they slept well in the Admiral's Inn in Little Yarmouth, all of them, because they had hired two locals to keep an eye on the three ships. They only needed two because the Little Yarmouth quay was across the river from the main town, so they needn't worry about the seasonally out-of-work tipplers who staggered out of the alehouses of The Rows each night.
The next morning the militia spotters arrived to share their bacon and egg breakfast. This day was to be the same triangle loop as yesterday, but with an earlier start. The course made good sense because the last leg would be an easy sail into port even if the wind turned into a blow. This time the Alice joined them on the patrol but without Daniel. Daniel was exploring the greater of the Yarmouths looking for trading opportunities in aqua vitae, spices, or guns. All his explorations taught him was that Yarmouth was not as well heeled nor as filled with wealthy gentry as was Cambridge.
On the third day Daniel shipped as crew on the Alice because the look of the skies worried him. The billowing, churning clouds told him that there was a change in the weather coming, and if there was a blow the Alice would need an extra hand. Once on the water he wondered what he had been worried about. The norther was still gentle. So gentle that it took them half the day to reach their southern most turn. The northeast course went faster because the triangle sails worked best when cutting across the wind. At their final turn, where they were furthest from the shore, perhaps ten miles out, they turned their bows into the wind, rafted the three ships together, and kept that outward position while the militia spotters continued to scan every inch of the horizon.
There was no shortage of kijkers on the three ships. The Dutch-made lookers were just tubes with spectacle lens, but through them, on a clear day, the spotters could see the topsails of a tall ship while the ship was still over the horizon. That was more than twenty miles. Each of the skippers had one, plus Daniel, plus two of the militia spotters.
While the spotters did their methodic search, the crew noticed tuna herding smaller fish, and made the effort to catch some of them. And why wouldn't you catch the most delicious eating fish in the sea. As soon as the first of the great fish was aboard, the men killed it and attacked it with their knives, stripping the belly and chewing down the delicately flavoured meat by the mouthful.
They ate two tuna, but were forced to leave the third for later, for their feast was interrupted by a noticeable change in the wind. It was still a norther but was now getting stronger. "It's going to get worse,” Daniel told them, "best get the foresails in, and reef the mainsails down to a third."
"A third,” Rob argued in amazement. "Why? This is nothing. The wind is about to change directions and become a normal sou'wester. It'll be the first of the spring winds."
"Pick up your looker, Rob, and look north and tell me what you see."
Rob did as he was told, and then turned to Daniel and said, "Aye, it's darker to the north, and I can't make out the horizon, but with a sou'wester coming that weather to the north will be pushed away from us."
"Sails ho,” was one interruption from the militia spotters that could not be ignored. "Sails ho, straight east, tall ships coming out of the mist."
"That mist means the waves are kicking up further out there more than they are here,” Daniel told them all as he put his own looker to his eye. Everyone with one, had their lookers to their eye, and they were all silent, counting. "A dozen of them anyway,” Daniel called out, "and coming towards us from Holland."
Tom pointed out, "Coming towards us, perhaps, but the north wind will drift them further south than us."
"To Lowestoft,” four men shouted simultaneously.
They watched the tall ships approach them for another hour. As the convoy closed the distance, they became clear enough to make out the types and sizes. They decided that there were four escort ships. Daniel spoke for all when he said, "Navy frigates most likely, but who knows of which navy. Eight to ten cargo or passenger ships, probably Dutch fluyts but I could be wrong.” Meanwhile the norther got stronger and stronger, and now was kicking up whitecaps, and the white horses prancing by them were getting larger and frothier. As the three small ships were still rafted, with bows into the wind and wave, the three ships stayed steady enough so they were not uncomfortable except when an occasional side gust that hit them from the west.
"Those side gusts are your sou'wester,” Daniel told Rob. "The two winds are fighting a great battle high above us, which is why the skies are now black to the north. Who do you thing will win, the sou'wester or the norther?"
Rob pointed out towards the approaching convoy, "Well the masters of those ships are counting on the sou'wester, and I agree with them. That must be why they chose today to come. With a sou'wester they have their choice of landing at Lowestoft, or turning north up the English coast. A sou'wester is the perfect wind for a fast sail to the Humber without the risk of being pushed onto reefs and sandbars."
"How about you Tom?"
"Spoken like a southerner,” Tom said with a laugh. "Southerners know nowt about the North Sea winds. Look at that black sky. The sou'wester's goin'a lose, but not to that wimpy norther. Nay, there will be a stronger wind by dark, comin at us, blastin' down from Denmark, and that black sky tells it all. There's another big freeze comin'. A nor'easter. Another killing nor'easter. That is the wind that will win this day.” He turned to his crew for confirmation, "Right lads?"
The crew had stopped listening. They were jumping to work, changing the rigging, reefing the sails, and clearing the decks. If a nor'easter was coming their way, then they wanted everything tied down and ship shape before it hit so they wouldn't have to leave the safety of the stern wells of their ships.
"Do you think they know?” the corporal of the militia asked, pointing to the closing convoy.
"If they are Dutch they will,” Daniel replied. "If French, I doubt it. The French know less about nor'easters tha
n southerners do."
"I can't make out the flags or markings yet,” the corporal said. "Do you think it is the queen's invasion convoy?"
"Who else could they be? For what other reason would a fleet be at sea in winter."
"Still, I'd like to be sure before we make our report,” the corporal said. "How long do you think it will be before I can make out their colours?"
"Another hour, if they keep to this course."
The three ships stayed safely rafted together and held their position while the convoy sailed ever closer, and this only because the spotters wanted to be sure of the flags, and sure of the convoy's course before they made for land report. Meanwhile the steady norther wind was gone and replaced by powerful gusts from every which direction. The symmetry of the prancing horses had been lost in a boiling maelstrom. The long lines of regular swells were now twisting in on each other. The faces of the four spotters were turning decidedly green. The senior man, the corporal, finally made a decision. "I've seen the colors. They are Dutch. Now take us in to Great Yarmouth. Forget our orders about spreading the word north and south by sea. We'll do that by horse. Get us in before this storm drowns us all."
The rafting lines were loosed and the two Friesburns peeled off from the Alice and, to the crews' great relief, took on a course that would take them to channels that the push of the River Yare kept open through the offshore sand bars. The side gusts were becoming less frequent, as the wind settled on a direction that was more and more from the nor'east. That wind was now so strong that it was blowing the waves over.
