Patrick O'Brian - The Nutmeg of Consolation

No, it would not do. For conscience' sake he ran through his calculations again, but they only confirmed the first and second workings and his feeling of extreme disappointment.

Back on deck he reduced speed for the second time. The Com�e, out there in the stronger current, was falling behind; and although he was no longer sure of what he should do he did not wish to lose touch with her. He leaned over the taffrail, watching the moonlit and slightly phosphorescent wake stream away: clearly there was now no hope whatsoever of carrying out his plan, and for some time he was lost in melancholy, even very bitter, reflexions. For some considerable time, while the muted life of a man-of-war by night went on behind him: the quiet voice of the quartermaster at the con, the replies of the helmsman, the murmur of the watch under the break of the forecastle and of the gun-crews below him, the striking of the bell, followed by 'All's well, forecastle lookout', all's well from all the stations right round the ship.

But his naturally sanguine temperament had recovered somewhat before five bells, the dead hour of the night, and he greeted Stephen cheerfully enough: 'There you are, Stephen. How happy I am to see you.'

'I am sorry to be so late. Sleep overcame me, luxurious sleep.'

'I suppose you wished to see the occultation of Menkar.'

'Not at all. I had intended to come and sit with you: for as I understand it there is to be no battle until after the moon has set.'

'Come, I take that very kindly in you, brother. But I am deeply sorry and indeed ashamed to tell you that there is to be no battle at all, at least not for a great while and not in the form I had hoped for. The Corn�e is such a very dull sailer, such an infernal slug, and I made such a stupid mistake about the flow of the tide that it is quite impossible we should be through the Passage before daylight.'

Five bells and the ritual heaving of the log. 'Seven knots, sir, if you please,' said Oakes, his young blubbered face even paler, even more pitiful, in the moonlight.

'It sounds quite well, don't it?' said Jack when he had gone. 'But the whole body of water in which she is making her seven knots is moving westwards at five or better, so that the mouth of the Passage is only two miles nearer every hour, instead of the four I had relied upon. It made me quite low in my spirits, I assure you - absolutely hipped - blue devils for a while. But then it occurred to me that it was not the end of the world if we missed our rendezvous with Tom, and that the right thing to do was to keep the Corn�e in sight, lead her well beyond the strait, fetch a wide cast and work to windward of her in the open sea. With this breeze we can make twelve knots to her seven.'

'Could you not both keep your rendezvous with Tom Pullings and pursue the Corn�e?'

'Oh no. Tom is, or should be, lying well to the north. I should have to spread everything we possess to reach him in time, and the Com�e would instantly see what we were about. Her captain is no fool - see how he smoked us at Nil Desperandum. No. I should hare off to find Tom, perhaps miss him and quite certainly miss the Corn�e. You have no idea how a ship can slip off and vanish in an island-studded sea, given a few hours.'

'I am sure you are right. And then there is the much surer, more genteel, more comfortable rendezvous at Botany Bay, or Sydney Cove to be more exact. Jack, I cannot tell you how I long to see a platypus.'

'I remember you spoke of it last time we were there.'

'A damnable, a hellish last time it was too, upon my soul. Frowned upon by the soldiers, scarcely allowed to set a foot on land, hurried away with almost no stores and nothing but a well-known and commonplace little small green parakeet - oh, it was shameful. New Holland is gravely in my debt.'

'Never mind. It will be much better this time. You shall watch great flights of platypuses at your leisure.'

'My dear, they are mammals, furry animals.'

'I thought you said they laid eggs.'

'So they do. That is what is so delightful. They also have bills like a duck.'

'No wonder you long to see one.'

The night was even warmer than usual and they sat there very easy and relaxed on two paunch-mats, talking at random about that voyage in the Leopard, about -the scent that was now coming off the land, distinct wood-smoke on some occasions, green things, sometimes separable, on others, and about the acuity of one's nose after only a short time at sea and the wonderful cleanliness and lack of stench aboard the Nutmeg, even in her hold.

The moon set: the stars glowed brighter still, and Jack harked back to his observatory at Ashgrove Cottage. An intelligent Dutchman in Batavia had shown him a better way of turning the dome, based on the practice of millers in his own country - of wind-millers, of course.

Eight bells. Fielding took over, but Jack remained on deck, and when Bonden came aft in the darkness some time later he said 'Bonden, you will have to tell your mates it will not do. The tide is too strong, the Frenchman too slow.'

'Oh yes, sir,' said Bonden. 'Which I only came aft to say Killick has a pot on the hob and a dish of burgoo, and should you like it on deck or below?'

'What do you say Doctor? Upstairs or down?'

'Oh, down, if you please. I must look at my patients quite soon.'- 'Do you mind if we wait five minutes? I should like to see the crescent Venus.'

'Venus? Ah, God love us,' said Stephen, oddly disconcerted. 'By all means. I am sure you have remarked the sea is much less agitated?'

'Yes. It often happens before the turn of tide, you will recall. Presently we shall have the ebb, and the whole mass of water will pour back eastwards, millions and millions of tons of it. And I dare say it will flow faster with the wind pushing it: there is promise of a close-reefed topsail breeze, as well as squalls.'

Stephen could see no promise of any kind, apart from a profounder darkness in the west, but knowing that salamanders, cats, sea-monsters had senses he did not possess he agreed; he also looked at the risen Venus, a vacillating form so near the horizon, but extraordinarily brilliant and sometimes, in the telescope, distinctly horned.

They went below and took their infinitely welcome burgoo and coffee in the gunroom, still talking very quietly, although by this time the idlers had been called and the grind of holystones cleaning the deck in the darkness rumbled through the ship. Their talk ran back and back to that voyage in the Leopard, to the wholly relative delights of Desolation Island, and to Mrs Wogan. 'She was a fine woman,' said Jack, 'and a rare plucked un: as I recall she was being transported for pistolling the runners that came to arrest her, and I do like a woman with spirit. But it will not do, you know: it will not do, having women aboard. There -, pointing at Stephen's second bowl of burgoo, which had slopped on to the table '- and that is what I meant by the changing tide. It is on the ebb now, and with the rising breeze behind it we shall have seas of quite a different kind. Do you hear the rain? That is one of my squalls: cats and dogs for twenty minutes and then a clear sky. The sun will be up presently.'

'I must go and see my patients. I am not altogether happy about young Harper.' - Splinter-wounds occupied them for some time: instances of healing at first intent, instances of malignant impostumes; and when Stephen stood up Jack said 'I will come with you.'

Down the ladder and away aft. 'You observe the sweetness even here?' asked Stephen. 'Well may she be called the Nutmeg.'

Before Jack could reply there was a tremendous triple crash overhead and the simultaneous discharge of both stern-chasers. He raced up the various ladders, reached the quarterdeck in the last veil of rain and the first light of dawn and instantly grasped the position: the Corn�e, bringing up the wind, bringing up the tide, spreading a little more makeshift canvas and moving faster out there in the channel, had come up hidden by the squall to well within range of her long guns, had yawed and fired a full broadside. One of her balls had struck the Nutmeg's maintopsail yard in the slings and though the halliards had already been let go the great sail was billowing away to leeward, making a noise like thunder.