Michael Aye - HMS Seawolf

"Mr. Lavery," one of the bosun's mates was calling.

"We got visitors from both directions." SeaWolf was just off shore and a group of Colonials were on the beach.

"Put a white flag on an oar and let's see if they know anything about the captain," Lavery told the bosun mate.

With a piece of torn white shirt tied to an oar, Lavery was rowed over to the beach where a crowd of Colonials and slaves were gathered. As the boat ground into the mud one of the slaves pull ed it further up onto the beach. Lavery and Dagan got out of the boat. Some of the Colonials looked ready to fight.

"Why'd you blow up the ship?" one of the better dressed men asked.

Before Lavery could speak, Dagan replied, "We didn't. It happened just as we arrived." This caused a few hushed whispers.

"What are you looking for?" Again this from the better dressed man. As he spoke, he tapped sand from his boot with a walking stick.

"Our captain," Lavery said not wanting it to appear that Dagan was in charge. "He'd just gone on board the ship when it exploded."

"Then he's dead!" one of the men said toward the back of the crowd.

"We've found no body," Lavery said.

"Ain't likely to either," again the man in back spoke.

However, Dagan was paying no attention to the man. He was looking at one of the slaves. He looked familiar, he knew him, but from where? The man had looked him in the eye but only for a moment. Dagan couldn't make eye contact with him again. To do so deliberately in front of the Colonials would probably cost the slave his life.

As more of SeaWolf’s boats approached, the Colonials turned to walk away. The neatly dressed man paused. "I'm sorry for your captain. I hope you find him." Then like the others he walked over the dune into the brush and out of sight.

Back on board SeaWolf, Dagan, Dawkins, and Caleb sat with Lieutenant Hazard in Gabe's cabin.

"The captain left instructions and letters before he left for the cutting out. I'm sure you know about them Dagan. Anyway, I'm to pick up the convoy in Charlestown then go on to New York and Philadelphia. Then find Lord Anthony's squadron.

That's what I intend to do unless otherwise instructed."

"You won't be," Dagan responded then added,

"I'll give Lord Anthony the letters. He has to know Gabe's alive."

Hazard wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Maybe it was better to let Dagan go on hoping. Maybe that was his way to deal with his loss.

"I have to go on deck. You gentlemen finish your wine."

No mention had been made of changing his things into the captain's cabin. It wasn't the right time. It would only be temporary Hazard knew. His Lordship certainly had someone more qualified than him for SeaWolf, but he'd enjoy the chance to command while it lasted. On his way on deck Hazard thought of his last meeting with Gabe. He cal ed me Everette, he thought. Not Lieutenant Hazard but Everette.

Sailor's Farewell

The day is dark and dreary

I can smell the rain

I'm sailing with the tide

Will I stand the pain

Teary-eyed she waves goodbye

Watching as I go

It's a conflict of emotion

Waging war in my soul

… Michael Aye

"It's a fine Navy day is it not, Mr. Oxford?" Lord Anthony greeted Warrior's master.

"Aye, my lord, it promises to be just that, long as we keep our distance from yonder island." The winds had been perverse and after two days of a northern gale Anthony could understand the master's apprehensions.

Patrolling the frigid water from Nantucket to Halifax and back was bad enough, but to be pushed onto the rocks in a heavy gale would likely mean certain death.

Sable Island lay off the larboard beam. In the years since 1750, both the French and British navy had lost al manner of ships, from third rates to brigs, off Sable's treacherous waters.

"Morning, my Lord!"

Turning, Anthony greeted his flag captain,

"'Morning, Dutch."

Captain Moffett had strolled up to the windward side of the quarterdeck to greet his admiral. Rightful y this space belonged to Moffett by tradition but old habits died hard. How many times had Lord Anthony paced this area on his own ship? Moffett couldn't recall ever hearing of a captain confronting an admiral over where he could or couldn't pace on his flagship.

"Has our flock returned to the mother hen, Dutch?"

"Aye, my lord, Pigeon and Audacity have returned on station. Merlin and Drakkar were able to keep station during the gale."

Merlin…Buck, steady Mr. Buck, now a captain in command of his own ship. Anthony had never known a more reliable man. And Pope, who was now captain on Drakkar, had proven himself time and time again fighting pirates in the West Indies.

Lieutenant Harold Kerry in command of Pigeon and Lieutenant George Bush in command of Audacity were unknowns. They both seemed capable seaman but neither had the experience of Steve Earl, Gabe, or even Markham.

Realizing Moffett had spoken Anthony replied, "I'm sorry Dutch, my mind is adrift today." Moffett had sensed Lord Anthony was worried.

Lieutenant Anthony and SeaWolf should have been back weeks ago. That combined with running before the gale for two days had increased Lord Anthony's anxiety.

"I was saying sir, I wouldn't be surprised if "young Gabe"-as Bart was so apt to cal Lieutenant Anthony-didn't get sent on some errand by Lord Howe."

"That's possible," Anthony replied without conviction.

Changing tack Moffett continued, "With your permission, my Lord, I'd thought I'd have the bosun pipe ’make and mend'. After the wetting we took from

the gale the crew could use the time to patch things up and dry out some clothes."

"I agree, Dutch, but it's your ship. You don't need my permission for your daily routine."

"Thank you, my Lord, here comes your cox'n." Anthony watched as his cox'n approached. Another reliable man. "Damme Bart, but you appear more like a senior officer than I do dressed in your cox'n coat."

"It's the one yews picked out, sir, and glad I ams of it. It be much colder here than at ’ome."

"I agree," Anthony replied. "Now tell me, Bart, what's so urgent to have you moving before the forenoon watch?

"Breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"Aye, sir, Silas done said to hurry on down afore the eggs get cold."

"He does, does he?"

"Aye, sir, iffen yews to be awhile we'uns will dispose of ’ em and Silas will set to cooking yews some more."

"Uh huh! And am I to understand that by disposing of the eggs means the two of you will eat them?"

"’s one way of disposing of ’em, I guess; now yews mentioned it. ’Hit would be sinful to waste ’em."

"Well, go dispose of them as you and Silas see fit but tell Silas I'll be there directly and if I don't have a hot breakfast he'll taste the cats, a dozen at least"

"Aye cap'n, oh aye sir, taste the cat he will, ha! ha!, and I'll count the lashes for you, I will."

"Count the lashes, you old dog, you couldn't count past ten with your boots off."

"That may be true, sir, but I's bettin' old Silas'd never last more'n ’alf a dozen. That's me wager." As always Bart had spoken the last word then had gone.

Anthony had finished his eggs and was on his second cup of coffee when the marine announced, "Flag lieutenant, zur."

"Gunfire," Markham exclaimed as he burst into the cabin.

"Are you sure?" Anthony questioned.

"Aye, my Lord."

Trying not to appear too excited, Anthony made his way on deck with Markham and Bart in tow.

Captain Moffett had a glass to his eye peering at the group of sails just on the horizon. Sensing someone was near, Moffett acknowledged his admiral. "Sorry, my Lord, my mind was on yonder sail."