Michael Aye - Barracuda

"Now let's get down to business. Privateers are costing us this war. I know it and you know it, I just wished Lord North would realize it. The south is a haven for the rouges. We control the east coast of Florida as you know but some think she's ripe for the picking."

"Privateers roam with impunity from the Carolina 's down along the coast of Florida, through the keys to Cuba, even into the Gulf of Mexico. Florida 's governor, Patrick Tonyn, has requested help. He says he'll have it; else the damn Spaniards and Rebels will have Florida before we know it. He's a steady man so I believe him.

Hell, just this fall the damn privateers took the brig, HMS Betsy, within site of Saint Augustine. She was full of gunpowder when she was taken and not a damnable thing could Tonyn do but watch. In his letter for help he states he's only got four hundred muskets to defend the entire border of Florida. Not much of a force would you say?"

But before Anthony could reply, Howe continued without hardly pausing.

"You are going to change that. Not only are you going to make a presence, your going to make it felt."

"Aye," Anthony acknowledged. It was somewhat humorous how Lord Howe had gotten his temper up talking about the privateers and Lord North. Which stirred him the most? Anthony wondered. Lord Howe had risen from his chair and paced the deck as he ranted. He now sat down behind his desk and took out a document.

Handing it to Anthony, he continued, "You're going to lose Moffett."

Surprised Anthony stared directly at Lord Howe. A smile crept across Howe's face. "Moffett has made admiral. He will sail back with Pope on HMS Drakkar to England for his orders." Raising his hand to fend off Lord Anthony's objections Howe continued, "I know you don't want to lose Drakkar but she's been out here for over three years and it's time she returns for an overhaul.

I thought Moffett would like to hear about his promotion from you."

"Thank you, my Lord." Anthony regained his composure and asked, "Is there a replacement named?"

"Aye, I thought you might want Captain Buck." A frown creased Anthony's brow.

"You don't want him?" Howe questioned.

"Oh no, my Lord, I mean yes, my Lord, I do, but who'll command HMS Merlin?"

"I thought you might have someone in mind," Lord Howe responded.

"I do sir, but I've just given him command… ere… temporary command of a captured French corvette."

"Yes, I read that in your report. Is she seaworthy?"

"Aye, my Lord, she's had repairs and is ready."

"Fine then," Howe answered. "I'll make Earl captain on Merlin and I'm going to promote Knight and give him command of your captured corvette."

"Knight, sir?"

"Yes. He was the first lieutenant on Diamond. Were it not for him we'd not fired a shot during the attack at Saint Augustine. He and a volunteer gun crew fired on the hellish privateers until they no longer had a gun left to fire. The decks were awash as the ship was sinking.

Had it not been for a gun captain lashing him to a grate he would have gone down with the ship. As it is now he's mending from burns to his arms and chest. I'll not let his bravery go unrewarded. Not by a damn site." Anthony took a deep breath then asked, "Would it be possible sir… for him to be part of my squadron? I could use a man who has experience in the area."

"Yes, I see your point, though knowing Sir Percival as I do I'm not sure how much local experience he's obtained outside of Saint Augustine 's Harbour.

However, it would do him good to be attached to a good commander. Very well, he and the ship are yours." As Anthony made his way back to his barge he felt a pang of jealousy. Damn Pope, lucky sod that he was, returning to England while Anthony had to stay in the Colonies. Anthony thought of his last letter from Deborah. "Heavy with your child" was how she put it.

The last time he saw her she didn't even know she was pregnant. However, if she hadn't been it would not have Barracuda been from a lack of trying. She had never had a child and being pregnant at age thirty was considered risky by Anthony's family physician. Deborah's last letter had assured him her pregnancy was going well. Slow as the mail is she will have had the baby and it'll be weaned from the tit before I know anything, Anthony thought.

Seeing the smile on Lord Anthony's face Bart, the admiral's cox'n, volunteered, "Peers 'is Lordship 'as pleased yew. We going home?"

"No, but to a warmer climate," Anthony answered.

"Well, hits bout time, way yews timbers be cracking when yews walking about causes me to shiver."

"My timbers!" Anthony exclaimed. "How could you hear me when you crack and pop worse than a sprung mast in a heavy gale. My timbers… humph."

"Well, I'm guessing the warm airs could do us-uns both a bit o' good," Bart said as he turned to climb down into the admiral's barge leaving Anthony nothing but open sky and water to reply to.

By noon the wind was near a half gale, lusty but not as bitter as it had been the month before. Still it came fierce and bellowing out of the northeast creating snarling gray waves, rising higher and higher, beating at HMS

SeaWolf's hull before rushing on to attack the nearby Halifax shoreline.

Lieutenant "Gabe" Anthony, captain of SeaWolf stood at the lee rail taking it all in as the ship was being made ready for sea. Since the recent battle with privateers off Nova Scotia, the ship had been newly rigged and painted. Fresh water had been lightered out along with casks of beef, pork and wine as well as countless other supplies.

The new first lieutenant seemed to be everywhere at once. He was old for his age and wizened as he had risen from the lower deck. It was said Admiral "Black Dick" Howe had promoted him on the spot for extraordinary bravery in battle. Lieutenant Jem Jackson may never make admiral, but he was an outstanding first lieutenant.

Thinking of this made Gabe wonder how his last first lieutenant was doing. Everette Hazard had also risen from the ranks. After he had been seriously wounded in the recent battle with privateers, Lord Anthony had taken him on as flag lieutenant.

A loud resonant voice attracted Gabe's attention'

Andrew "Andy" Gunnells. The new master was a smallish, premature gray-haired man. His face was leathery and tanned by the sun and wind from countless voyages. He gave an immediate impression of great competence. He had small twinkling eyes and the crow's feet that appeared with his quick grin gave an equal impression of a ready sense of humor. Gabe thought he would probably keep the wardroom on its toes.

Dawkins, Gabe's newly appointed secretary, a man who had been with him from the time he was a midshipman, was approaching. He was bent forward with a scarf over his head trying to keep the wind out of his aching ear. He was sniffling and snorting in spite of the mixture of honey, lemon and brandy Lum had concocted.

Lum was a former slave on a plantation in South Carolina. He had killed the plantation overseer to prevent Faith from being raped. She had begged Gabe to take Lum with him, "else he'll be hanged" she pleaded. So here he was. A giant of a man, loose limbed, almost ungainly, a baldpate with salt and pepper colored hair on the sides. He was solid as a ship's timber with big calloused hands. He was like a demon in battle but like magic could turn to something almost delicate as he played a soulful melody on his lotz.

As Dawkins got close he sounded very nasal as he tried to speak above the wind. "You going to wait on Dagan and Caleb to return before your ready to eat or do you want Lum to fix you something now?" Realizing that he was indeed hungry and just as important realizing he was creating more of a hindrance by being on deck, Gabe decided to go below then thought to ask, "Did Caleb take his damn ape with him?"