Julian Stockwin - Artemis

The solution was not obvious and Powlett's seamanship caused dismay to some but a growing respect from others. With topgallants and courses hanging in the brails, the frigate set topsails, jib and driver, with the main topsail backed. Trimmed this way Artemis drifted broadside to the current, apparently helpless. But at every obstruction, an anchored vessel or a creeping line of barges, either the fore-topmast staysail forward would be hoisted or the driver aft would be hauled out. This would send Artemis slowly across the breadth of the river and the hazard would be cleared. For those spectators on deck it was a tense time, but where the estuary widened as it met the sea, the current slowed and it was then possible to cast to the right tack and shape their course, at last outward bound.

Passing the Sandheads and with the mangroves and lush jungle slipping away astern, the deck began to crowd with strangers and parasols, chattering and promenading, an amazing thing in a warship. Once again the harried Fairfax made the rounds, and the sightseers were given to understand that their territory would be aft, around the wheel and the neat expanse of the quarterdeck abaft.

The tall figure of the dour and abstemious Lord Elmhurst was easy to spot, pacing slowly in conversation with Powlett, obstinately in full breeches and frock coat in defiance of sea conventions. Lady Elmhurst, a somewhat mannish figure with a fan constantly at work, always seemed to be the centre of attention, a formidable woman who looked quite as capable as her husband.

Once in the open sea, Artemis hove to, drifting quietly, as she waited for the stately East Indiaman that would accompany them with the rest of the envoy's entourage.

The Walmer Castle emerged from the Hooghly and stiffly acknowledged their presence as she fell in astern. The two vessels foamed ahead.

At the end of the afternoon watch Kydd went to go below, but Renzi caught his sleeve. 'You will scarcely credit what I have been able to borrow.'

Kydd had not seen him the whole afternoon, but guessed where he had been. 'What have you got then, shipmate?'

'A treatment of the metaphysick of China in four volumes,' he said triumphantly. It had cost him dear, an hour of sympathetic weaselling of a crabbed old savant, but it was a thousand times worth it. 'There are learned men and counsellors in the entourage, sadly overlooked.' He sighed happily. 'Now I shall know the truth of the soul-stealers of the Kao Hsuang and the greatness of the saindy Confucius.'

Kydd couldn't help smiling. He had never seen Renzi so animated, and was happy for him. No doubt in the fullness of time, there would be a watch on deck in the tropical dusk and he would hear Renzi exploring these philosophies. He would use Kydd as a foil to worry happily over some arcane point, and then with dawning comprehension Kydd would see it slowly unfold into an important point and then a great truth, and they would both end up deeply satisfied. They clattered down the fore hatchway for their evening meal, pleased to be away from the deck with its high-born passengers and awkward atmosphere.

'Hey, Wong! How d'ye say in Chinee, "Come under m'lee, me lovely, an' I'll steer ye fer a safe port"?'

'Wong, mate, is there a reg'lar-built tavern, be chance, in Peking?'

'Tell us — do yer Chinee fillies like it, you know—'

Wong sat rigid, a dogged frown on his glistening face. Suddenly, he slammed his fist on the table and shouted hoarsely, l Da choh, lei kau tik!’ The mess table subsided.

'Woulda thought he'd be happier, the sad dog,' Doud said, in puzzlement. 'Goin' to visit his folks, like.'

Wong rose, knocking over the other seamen of the mess on his way back on deck. 'Heathen prick!' Cundall snorted.

Kydd saw that Wong had more than paying a call on his family on his mind: normally impervious to lower-deck banter, he was now touchy and morose. 'We got other things t' consider right now, mates,' Kydd said seriously. They looked at him. 'Yon lobsterback friends o' ours,' he said. In the tropics the men could not survive for long in the stifling heat of the forepeak, and strangers aboard would be spotted as soon as they set foot on deck.

'He'll 'ave ter set 'em ashore, first port o' call, o' course,' Cundall said, dismissively.

'Yeah — which is China, ain't it?' Doud retorted. 'Nah, he strings 'em up as Army deserters, o' course.'

'What? Wi' women aboard ter see? Don't give me that. He'll 'ave t' put 'em in bilboes an' send 'em back fust ship he sees,' said Petit.

'Steerage 'as all the women in, anyways — d'ye like ter 'ave them trippin' over the condemned men every time they goes topside?'

'Condemned?'

'Yair — in course, they gets topped soon as they gets sent back ter the barracks.'

Kydd leaned forward. 'Not if Black Jack don't know. Look, we finds 'em in the forepeak. They're stowaways, see, wants to ship in Artemis 'cos they've heard we're famous, an' wants a piece o' the prize money.'

'What prize money?' grunted Cundall.

'We rigs 'em in sailor's gear, teaches 'em the lingo and I'll wager Black Jack'll snap 'em up.'

Doud laughed. 'Yeah, he could at that — we landed sick more'n a brace at Calcutta.'

Petit looked doubtful. 'Aye, but y'knows that a sojer is always a sojer. How, then, are yer goin' ter make sailors outa them?'

The breeze freshened on the open ocean, and the blue sea with its hurrying white horses seemed to sense the urgency of the mission. The frigate's movements became more lively, a barrelling roll in the following wind and sea, and the deck gradually cleared of passengers, returning to its usual seamanlike expanse.

Revelling in the crispness of the air after the heavy humidity Kydd went forward. They loped along under easy sail down the long swells of the ocean, the Indiaman trying its best two miles astern. Kydd went to the ornate voluted beakhead and leaned on the rail. Below him the bow-wave foamed and roared, a broad swash of white spreading out each side from the stem. The figurehead, the chaste white figure of Artemis, thrust out a hunting bow as if to urge the rest of the ship to follow, a splendid icon for a prime predator of the seas.

The sea was much closer than in his previous ship, the big three-decker, and the sensation of speed was thrilling. Everything about the frigate suggested speed - her sails were perfectly cut to the yards and sheeted in so taut they hardly bellied. Her clean lines resulted in a fine-drawn wake and the jib and fore staysails flying down to the bowsprit-seemed to arrow the ship forward. Reluctantly Kydd made his way back: this was his favourite place.

He stepped behind the canvas screen of the sick-bay and groaned at the sight of the two soldiers. 'Now y' please to pay attention.' They looked eagerly up at him from their cross-legged position. 'Y' didn't do so well on th' last sea word I gave ye — here's a new one, see if y' can do a bit better. Show th' Captain how you know y' ropes.'

Their guileless expressions made Kydd sigh, but he persevered. 'Th' word "start", we uses it with care, f'r it has more'n one meaning. If we use it about a cask o' water, this means t' empty it, see, but if we talks about our anchor, then o' course it means to move it a piece. An' to start bread has the meaning f'r us to turn it out of its bags and casks an' stow it together in bulk — but when we talks about t' start a butt-end of a plank, why, that's serious, it means that the seas have sprung it an' we're takin' in water fast.' Kydd tried to ignore their glassy stares. 'On deck, if we starts the tack or sheet, it means t' loosen it, like "raise tacks an' sheets" when we goes about. An' the carpenter, when he wants t' move a contrary bolt, he starts it with a starting bolt.'