The Pursuit

by Peter Smalley

  ‘Yes yes, very well, you have it, Mr Hayter. Let us find out what damage has been done to the bottom planks of the ship. Our guns will have to be hoisted out of her, I am nearly certain, and most of our stores too. But we must learn before we attempt to float her off whether or no such an action may cause water to flood into the ship, deep under the ballast, through timbers weakened by our going aground.’

  ‘Then we may well have to get the ballast out of her, don’t you think so, sir?’

  ‘Eh? Good God, are y’certain? All the shingles, and the pigs as well?’ Thoroughly dismayed.

  ‘No, sir, I am not certain. I merely suggest it as a possibility. I will discover the facts directly, sir.’

  Rennie looked at him sharply. ‘Y’don’t propose to make the dive yourself, I hope?’

  ‘No, sir, I do not.’

  ‘I cannot allow my officers to take undue risk. Where is the master? He should assist you in this.’

  ‘Mr Loftus is in the hold, sir, with Mr Adgett.’

  ‘Ah. Ah. Very good. Yes, Doctor?’ Seeing the surgeon Elias Empson by the binnacle, his shirtsleeves very bloody. Dr Empson came aft.

  ‘We have lost two more men, sir, I fear, and there is half a dozen others very gravely hurt.’

  ‘I will go below myself in a moment or two, Doctor, and see the injured men, and attempt to cheer them.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Aloft, there!’ Rennie peered up at the lookout in the maintop. ‘Keep a sharp eye on those dwellings to the east! Look for boats!’

  James assembled a small party of three men to conduct the dive, as repairs were begun the length and breadth of the ship in a clatter of mallets and adzes. When they had fully understood why they had been brought from their other duties, all three men displayed reluctance, and assured James that:

  ‘I cannot swim, sir.’

  ‘Nor me, sir.’

  ‘I should drown at once, sir.’

  ‘But good heaven it ain’t a matter of swimming at all. One of you would be lowered on a rope, d’y’see? You need only hold in your breath a short time, and look about you under the water, and—’

  ‘I has never learned to hold my breaf, sir.’

  ‘Nor me.’

  ‘Nay, nor me, neither.’

  ‘Then who is the best swimmer in the lower deck?’

  ‘That would be Jess Skilton, sir, rated able. Only . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Only his leg is broke, sir, and he is kept below under the surgeon.’

  ‘Christ Jesu.’ Quietly, then a resolute breath and: ‘Very well, I will make the dive myself. You will assist me.’

  James did not inform the captain of his decision. He felt that Rennie had more than a sufficiency of trouble to contend with at present, and would not welcome more from his disobedient acting first lieutenant. James was dressed in his working rig as he approached the task, and now shrugged off his jerkin, took off his shoes, and tied a length of hawser-laid rope securely round his waist. He climbed down the larboard side ladder, and waved to the three men above to lower him into the water. They were to allow him no more than two minutes. If he had not by then reappeared, they were to haul him up right quick.

  The dark surface of the water, reflecting the ship’s side, rose to meet him, and he felt its intense cold rising round his body. He sucked in a sharp, deep breath before the water closed over his head. Fully immersed he found the cold almost unbearable, and although he endeavoured to keep his eyes open at first he found it impossible. Blindly he pointed himself downward as the men above paid out more rope, and he kicked forcefully to drive himself to the bottom. His outstretched hands came in contact with a rocky shelf, and now he did open his eyes. The water was surprisingly clear, and he found he could make out the bottom planking of the ship without difficulty.

  Several sheets of copper had been loosened by the heavy contact of the ship with the rocky bottom, but so far as he could see the planking beneath the copper was sound. He examined the ship’s curved bottom a little way forrard, then kicked round and headed aft. There were no large splinters or loose strips of timber. He thought of swimming all the way aft to look at the rudder, but the cold was now so absolute that he felt his hands and feet going numb, and his face ached painfully. He kicked down against rock, and rose to the surface. He gasped for air, felt the rope slip up under his armpits and tauten as the men above hoisted him, and a moment after he was back in the ship. Rennie was standing directly alongside the diving crew on the gangway, his expression very fierce.

  ‘What in the name of Christ was you thinking, Mr Hayter!’

  James was shivering so violently that he was unable to form words. His numbed hands were useless, and one of the men had to untie the rope for him.

  ‘Y’will answer my question, sir!’

  James sucked in a shuddering breath.

  ‘She is sound, thank God.’

  And he fell in a swoon on the gangway. He would have tumbled into the waist had not the man who had untied the rope caught him under the arms. Rennie’s anger vanished, and became concern.

  ‘Carry him into the waist. Handsomely, there, handsomely. – You there, boy! Fetch the doctor on deck! Jump now!’

  And presently, under Dr Empson’s attentive supervision – Rennie anxiously at his shoulder – James was carried below.

  *

  Two of Expedient’s four boats had been smashed in the first encounter with Terces in the North Sea, and the remaining two – the pinnace and the cutter – struggled to cope with all of the stores being hoisted out of the ship and taken ashore.

  Dr Empson had insisted, in his quiet, bespectacled way, that Lieutenant Hayter should rest for the remaining hours of daylight, and so James took no part in the work of unloading and repair, but lay below in his hanging cot, fitfully dozing.

  When the great bulk of the ship’s stores at last lay on the stony shore – long rows of casks and a great quantity of other items under protecting canvas – all guarded by two Marines, Expedient was still firmly aground. Captain Rennie now had to decide how Expedient’s guns were to be got out of her, so that she was lightened enough to swim off the shelf. Mr Storey and Mr Adgett together made the suggestion that the guns should be floated ashore on a raft made from empty casks and planking. Rennie heard them out, but felt that such a raft would not be stable enough to carry the weight of even one of the eighteen-pounders, and rejected the notion.

  ‘We must achieve it either by taking the guns ashore one by one in the pinnace, or by rigging a system of tackles between the ship and the rock face, and hoisting them ashore, again one at a time. Either method will be very consuming of time, but we must refloat the ship, one way or t’other.’

  This to his sea officers and standing officers in the great cabin at nightfall. Mr Leigh was absent, still lying senseless below under the surgeon’s care, but James – now wholly restored and hale – had joined them, and it was he who asked:

  ‘Are we to resume our pursuit, sir, when we have refloated the ship, and carried out her repair?’

  ‘We are, Mr Hayter. Just as soon as she swims.’

  ‘Then would not it save us a great deal of valuable time – if we threw the guns overboard?’

  ‘Lose all of our great guns?’ Rennie, with a frowning stare.

  ‘Well, not all of them, sir, no. Just so many as it takes to swim her off.’

  ‘When we have only today suffered severe damage at Captain Broadman’s hands? How in God’s name d’y’propose we should defend ourselves against Terces on the open sea, should we need to?’

  ‘It is my view, sir – with respect – that relieving the ship of the weight of perhaps half a dozen or eight of our guns would achieve our purpose. We would retain our smashers, and about half of our eighteens, as adequate armament. We could then stand a little way offshore, clear of the rocks, and safely take in our stores again.’

  ‘Hm. Hm.’ A sniff, a frown. ‘Mr Loftus?’

  ‘Sir?’ Bern
ard Loftus looked attentively at Rennie, having exchanged a quick glance with James.

  ‘What say you?’

  ‘Well, sir . . . I think what Lieutenant Hayter suggests has very considerable merit. Relieved of, say, twelve or fourteen tons, the ship will very likely float, sir.’

  ‘Mr Storey?’

  ‘I will never like to lose great guns, sir. Howsomever, I do not think we has a choice, as we find ourself circumstanced.’

  ‘Hm. Hm. Well well, so be it, then. We are all agreed.’

  ‘In course, sir, there is still the question of repair.’ James leaned forward over the table. ‘We must undertake the—’

  ‘We will repair at sea.’ Rennie, over him.

  *

  Rennie did not waste time waiting until morning. As soon as consensus had been reached in the great cabin, he ordered that the work of jettisoning guns should begin, in lantern light. When six of the great guns had been hoisted out and dropped into the sea, the ship groaned, creaked, squirmed a little, and swam free. A hoarse, heartfelt cheer echoed through the ship.

  Rennie ordered the boats to tow her clear of the underwater rock shelf, and then he anchored, the boats were tethered close, and the ship was quiet. All work ceased for the night. However, the Marine guard was doubled ashore to watch over the stores, and extra lookouts posted in case of a hostile approach from the water. Nothing untoward was observed, and at first light work was resumed. The day was misty and grey.

  At six bells of the morning watch one of the lookouts sighted movement ashore, and presently a herd of animals came along a stony path out of the gorge, driven by a figure in heavy dark clothing. The animals proved to be sturdy, buff-coloured horses with stiff standing manes. Their keeper was an angular middle-aged man with a thatch of grey hair and a beard. He carried a tall staff, and spoke to the horses in a gentle, penetrating baritone that carried out over the water to the ship. When he saw Expedient the man stopped in utter astonishment, his blue-eyed stare taking in the ship herself, and the bustling activity on the shore and in the boats, as her stores were got back into her. The horses stood still, snorting and tossing their heads in the cool morning air. Presently their keeper turned the horses, waving his stick and issuing a series of gentle basso commands, and both animals and man retreated into the gorge, and disappeared.

  Rennie followed their retreat in his glass. ‘He will speak of this to his tribe, and more of them will come. We must prepare ourselves.’

  ‘He looked peaceable enough, did not he, sir?’ James, at his side.

  Rennie lowered his glass. ‘Never forget that Vikings came to England from his region exact, and laid waste to much of the north country. They are a warrior people – savage, primitive, and fiercely predatory. We will mount swivels on the rail, loaded with canister. Say so to Mr Storey.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ Thinking but not saying that the gentle fellow they had just observed was as like to a Viking as was a Dorset cowherd.

  By five bells of the forenoon watch, all the stores had been brought back and hoisted into the ship, and the boats tethered, and work had begun on the replacement rudder, which Mr Adgett and his crew fashioned and fitted together and then lowered into the pinnace to be taken round the stern.

  ‘Just as soon as the rudder is hung and we can steer, we will weigh and proceed, Mr Hayter.’ Rennie turned from the shattered tafferel, which had been temporarily replaced by a canvas screen. He peered along the fjord a moment. A sniff. ‘I shall not be sad to depart this place.’ A slight, involuntary shiver. ‘It may be handsome enough, but it is also chilling oppressive in scale, do not you find?’

  ‘I think it is one of the most sublimely beautiful places I have ever seen.’ James, quietly.

  ‘Ah. Yes?’ A brief quizzical look, another sniff.

  At six bells, as the work on the new rudder continued from the tethered pinnace, men taking it in turn to go roped into the cold water to help hang it and secure the replacement spectacle plate and pintles in the gudgeons – a slow, laborious process, fraught with difficulty – Rennie had grown impatient, and was pacing his quarterdeck, sighing and muttering, his hands clasped behind his back. As he returned yet again to peer down over the counter, a scattering of fragments pocked and rippled the water all round the ship, and rattled on the deck. Rennie frowned, and turned to look toward the shore. A brief moment as the water settled and was still, then a further shower of fragments fell, and there was a deep rumbling sound, as if the air itself had trembled.

  ‘What in the name of God . . .’

  Rennie looked up at the rock face and the misty peak above, and at the same moment a tremendous rattling hail of stones, flints and other fragments descended on the deck, and turned the water frothing white all round the ship.

  A further deep grumbling shock, and the air shook. Shouts of alarm.

  ‘Mr Tangible!’

  ‘Sir?’ Roman Tangible appeared, his face pallid with fright.

  ‘We must pay out the cables, and tow the ship well clear of the shore! Hands to the boats, double-banked oars!’

  ‘Ay-ay, sir.’ His call to his mouth, summoning men to action. The call echoed by the boatswain’s mate forrard. Bawled commands. Activity in the cutter, and in the pinnace, as work on the rudder was abandoned. Splashing at the bow as hawsers were run out.

  Another deep, ominous rumble, and a further cracking, rattling shower of fragments, bouncing on the deck and clinking and pinging on guns and hammock cranes.

  ‘Give way together! Cheerly, now!’

  The boats pulled out into the glassy fjord, oars dipping and lifting, the slack of the towing ropes was taken up dripping, and Expedient began to move, slowly swinging stern-on to the boats as she cleared, her loosened cables running from the bow.

  When the boats and ship were two cables off, a tremendous concussion boomed and reverberated like a broadside of guns. A whole section of the dark rock face abruptly dropped, and collapsed in a tumbling sliding rush into the water. A huge wave bellied out from the shore, and Expedient and her boats were lifted up as it rolled under them. The hawsers held, the anchors digging into the rocky bottom, but one of the towing ropes aft of the ship stretched and parted in a twang of uncoiling strands, and the cutter was turned beam-on by the surging wave. The crew of oarsmen spilled into the swirling water. Three drowned at once, some of the others clung for their lives to the hull of the upturned boat, and two more were swept far out into the fjord still gripping their oar. The oar was caught in a powerful eddy of the surge and flung up tall and twirling, and the bobbing heads of the two men disappeared.

  Expedient righted herself, as did the pinnace trailing aft of her. The echo of the crash sounded far along the fjord as the wave beat against the rocks on the far side. A flight of birds fled across the water, loud in retreating alarm. A last sprinkling shower of debris close inshore. Then the placid roar of the waterfall in the gorge reasserted itself on the late morning air.

  Rennie rose on his legs from where he had fallen by the larboard rail, and found his voice. Shakily:

  ‘Likely the thudding of our guns yesterday loosened the rocks high above us.’

  James saw that he was clapped on to a backstay with both white-knuckled hands, and let go. And let out a long-held breath.

  The cries of the men clinging to the upturned cutter sent both officers to the tafferel. Within moments the pinnace was pulling to their position, the rescue was effected, the bodies of the drowned men recovered, and the capsized, wallowing cutter taken carefully in tow.

  The burial service was conducted for the drowned men, and for the men killed in the action of the day before, then Captain Rennie addressed his assembled officers and people:

  ‘We have suffered much, and lost shipmates, but we here are alive, and the ship swims. We have a duty to perform. We must pursue the Terces, as soon as we are able. We must pursue her until we discover her port of destination, as we have been ordered to do, in the king’s name. All our efforts must be directed to that en
d. We are all Expedients, every man of us standing here. At sea, in peril, and storm, and action, we may rely only upon each other. I rely upon you . . .’ Pointing at the upturned faces in the waist. ‘. . . and you, and you, and you.’ Meeting each man’s eye as his pointing finger moved. He paused, leaning on the breast-rail, and lifted his gaze aloft, then aft, and then again looked at his assembled people. ‘And we all of us rely upon our ship. We are all one together in her. She is our life, and our world.’ A brief dramatic pause, and:

  ‘Tell me now, what are we called?’

  ‘Expedients . . .’ A ragged response.

  ‘God’s love, that damned great crash has deafened me, I think. Tell me again! What are we called?’

  ‘Expedients!’

  ‘Mr Loftus!’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘A double ration of grog for every man!’

  Rennie and James ate a late supper together in the great cabin, which bore signs of the recent action. Several of the stern-gallery windows had been smashed, and were now shuttered. The work of repair continued on deck in the glow of lanterns, and the sounds of adzes and mallets filtered down to the two men. James was still in his working rig, having come direct from his duties on deck, and Rennie was in an old frockcoat. His cat Dulcie lay on the bench under the window, curled up asleep. Rennie and James had discussed the progress of repair, and James was preparing to return to the deck, but Rennie wished to talk a moment or two longer, motioned him to stay, and when James had resumed his seat:

  ‘Yes, I had thought Broadman only came into this cursed fjord to give me the slip, to bamboozle me and tangle me up. But nay, the fellow all along meant to lead me into a trap, and then see me disabled or destroyed by his Danish friends.’

  ‘He very nearly succeeded, did not he, sir?’ James cut himself some more cheese.

  ‘Eh?’ A glare.

  ‘Well, are we not fortunate indeed to’ve survived his—’

  ‘Fortunate?’ Over him. ‘We fought the Danes to a standstill, good God! We smashed the buggers!’