Dewey Lambdin - The King`s Coat

Lewrie thought that if they all went back horne in the same ship it would make a cozy little gathering in the passenger's mess-Bales, Swift, Church, Chapman now minus his leg and doomed to a life of poverty and being chased by children in the street calling him Mr. Hop-kiD's, and young Beckett, minus a foot at twelve years of age, all J;Uing the day they had joined the Fleet, and Ariadne, for she had been bad luck for everybody.

Lewrie was moved into the old officers' wardroom but still had to sling a hammock. Some form of ship's routine still went on; rising to scrub decks, stow hammocks, sail drill with the courses. anything to keep the newly arrived hands busy before they were assigned ships. He also supervised a lot of working parties at the dockyard and stores warehouses. All his friends left. Osmonde went to an eighty-gun ship of the line whose Marine Captain had been cashiered; Ashburn attended the flagship and passed his examination for lieutenancy, and took his place as sixth officer in Glatton, which was easy duty since it had been months since that ship had seen the seaward view of Cape Shirley and was rumored to be resting on a reef of beef bones. Shirke was on the mend in hospital while Bascombe went into a fine frigate. All the senior warrants and mates disappeared. except for the oldest and slowest. He languished for weeks in limbo, waiting for his call.

A very old lieutenant had charge of Ariadne, a man so old that he made Bales look like a spry young topman. When Lieutenant Cork drank, Alan drank. In fact, everybody drank. Cork knew he wasn't going anywhere important for the rest of the century, so he drank a lot, which meant that Lewrie had to sit and drink with him almost every night.

On those nights when Lieutenant Cork had started early, or simply forgot that he had a ready-made audience for his maunderings, Lewrie had the chance to slip ashore and caterwaul. He checked out the whores, he ate the spiciest foods he could find which were such a change from the Navy's idea of what to do with rock-hard salt-meat.

But it was an expensive island. and wartime wasn't helping to hold down prices, and he found himself in the miserable p0sition of having to go ashore to get away from the drudgery, but not being able to afford doing it more than once a week. His hundred guineas were going fast, and there was no guarantee that his father ever intended to honor their agreement, now that he was thousands of miles away. He had sent Pilchard a letter so his new guineas would catch up with him, but he wasn't holding his breath waiting for them.

He found himself in the miserable position one night of really wishing he were at sea, if just to cut his expenses, and he knew that he was going mad even to consider it! Once Lieutenant Cork went face-down in a puddle of claret (Lewrie had to give the man credit for supplying a good vintage, and free to boot) he went on deck to think out the fumes in his head with fresh air, and leaned on the railing, wondering what was going on aboard all the other ships in harbor. ’Mister Lewrie?" a familiar voice called from the darkness. "Aye?’

‘Lewrie, you're cup-shot!" Lewrie could not make out who it was and stepped closer before he made the wrong answer to someone more senior. "Mister Kenyon?" he gasped, once he could make out the uniform and a hint of the face. ’It's me, right enough. How do you keep?’

‘Like a ghost, sir. I think I'm the only soul left from the old crew," he said, happy to see his favorite officer and hoping that it wasn't just a social call. ’Too much idle time on your young hands, if you ask me, Mister Lewrie.’

’Too true, sir.’

’Then how would you like something that would keep you out of mischief?’

‘ I like mischief, sir, frankly. But this is getting boresome. ’

‘So you wouldn't turn down a chance to be a midshipman in an independent command.’

’Mischief be damned, sir, where do I go?" he whooped. "Admiral Matthews has just given me command of HMS Parrot. She is a big fore n' aft schooner, American built and English took. I'm allowed two midshipmen and I was delighted to find that you were available. Matter of fact, Matthews was quite taken with the report about you and was saving you for something good.’

’Lead me to her, sir."\ "We'll be doing some interesting things, running fleet mails and orders all up and down the Leewards, over to Jamaica now and then, maybe as far as the Bahamas or the Colonies. ’

‘I'll go pack, sir," Lewrie told him, aware that he was much happier than the last time he had uttered those words. "We're lying off the far side of the dockyard. Report aboard by the end of the Forenoon watch. Sober and clear-eyed, if you know what's good for you." Kenyon said it good-naturedly. They spent some time catching up on old times, then Kenyon had to leave for his lodgings before taking command in the morning, and he wanted to pack. Lewrie knew that his chest was ready to go, except for a few loose ends and laundry. His head was as clear as a bell now, and he quivered with excitement at the thought of being not only employed once more, but having been held in reserve for a choice assignment such as Parrot by Rear Admiral Sir Onsley Matthews.

There had to be twenty, thirty midshipmen who were more senior and deserving, just dying for a berth such as Parrot. He thought of Keith Ashburn as a new lieutenant, pacing back and forth and aching for sea time on the flag, and he knew he had the better berth, after all.

This calls for a celebration, he told himself. There was going to be a lot of work in the days ahead, if his new ship was fitting out, and no more chance to go ashore with the ease which he enjoyed presently. Perhaps he did not have to drink himself blind to celebrate, but that did not mean he could not strum a doxy one last time.

Parrot was big as schooners go, not like the smaller island-built types. She was over sixty-five feet on the range of the deck, American-built of pine and fast as the very wind. Except for a small raised area aft to improve the headroom of the master's cabins, she was a flushdeck, and carried eight small four-pounder cannon, four on each beam, and with lighter swivels fore and aft as chase guns. She could fly three foresails, or jibs, two huge gaffed fore-and-aft sails on her fore and mainmasts, and when at any point of sail from a close reach to running before the wind could also add two smaller topsails on crossed yards. Since she would be running dispatches, it was not meant for her to carry the usual four months of food and water required of rated ships, so the crew had much more room in which to stretch out. But she still had a large crew of fifty men, includi,ng officers, warrants and stewards. Enough to make sail, and enough to fight her, if pressed into a comer. But her principal defense was to be her greater speed-she could do nearly twelve knots.

She could also point up much higher to windward than most ships such as brigs, which was a final form of salvation against being taken.

As soon as Lewrie saw her he was in heaven, since she did not rate a sailing master, chaplain, schoolmaster, no Marines and only one master's mate, a stocky individual with thinning hair named Claghome.

Kenyon was master and commander, and was given the deferential title of Captain, and was responsible for her navigation and safety, with only Claghome to help him. There was a sun and only one mate, and though she rated a surgeon, she did not have one, but only a surgeon's mate to serve in lieu of a more experienced man. But since they never would be far from some port, it was thought that he would suffice until they could drop anchor where there was medical help.