Julian Stockwin - Artemis

'There is no likelihood of the Season for me, I fancy,' replied Fairfax. 'We are an old county family and there will be too much to attend to on the estate, more's the pity.' He looked pleasantly at the wooden Party. 'You will be in Town for the Season, or are you to be rusticated?'

Parry said with a set face, 'Neither, sir.' He hesitated, then added, 'I believe I will visit my older sister at Yarmouth.'

'Yarmouth?' said Fairfax. 'Oh.' He and Rowley exchanged looks, then stepped forward together in easy conversation. They halted while Rowley drew out his snuff box and laid some on the back of his hand. Before he could inhale, a playful wind scattered the grains in the air and back over Parry.

Parry's face went red. 'Take your filthy habit somewhere else, sir!' he shouted.

Rowley's eyebrows rose in astonishment. He glanced at Fairfax, then allowed an expression of exaggerated good humour to accompany his urbane inclination of the head. He looked back at Fairfax and burst out laughing.

Storming forward Parry fronted Rowley, breathing deeply and raggedly. 'Be damned to your popinjay ways, Rowley! Your infernal high-born humbug grates on my nerves.'

Fairfax looked shocked. 'Mr Parry! I do hope—'

Ignoring Fairfax, Rowley replied coolly, plucking at the lace of his cuffs, 'Sir, intemperate words do nothing but reflect on breeding.'

'Mr Rowley, this is not—' began Fairfax, his hands flapping, pacifying.

With the entire quarterdeck watching silently, Parry's face clamped in a murderous loathing. 'Rowley, if you cross my bows once more . . .'

'Is this in the nature of a threat, sir?' 'Gentlemen, I implore you - please . . .' 'It is, sir!'

'Then may I take it that as a gentleman you are dissatisfied by my conduct?' 'Gentlemen, please!’

'I am, sir, damn you to hell!' Parry's voice was thick with emotion.

Rowley's voice turned silky. 'Then could it be that you are looking for satisfaction in the matter?' 'Yes, I am!' Parry said hotly.

Instantly, Rowley snapped to attention. 'Then, sir, I accept, as Mr Fairfax is my witness.' Turning to Fairfax, he continued, 'Kindly inform Mr Parry, sir, that my second will wait on his by sunset.'

In the shocked silence Fairfax wrung his hands. 'Gentle-men, can you not be reconciled? Consider, this is a ship of war, we are—'

Parry drew in a breath with a hiss. 'No, sir, we cannot!' With a look of savage content, as of a monstrous burden lifted, he added, 'But of course I will allow Mr Rowley to withdraw.'

Rowley turned away and studied the horizon with his arms folded.

'Then it is my most sorrowful duty to inform you both, that as there is no satisfaction offered, then the matter must come to an unhappy conclusion.' Fairfax paced aft pensively and returned. 'There is no prospect of a meeting until we make landfall in England. It is customary in these matters to refrain from interchanges, but in the meantime, for the sake of the ship, I must ask you both to continue your professional duties, but through an intermediary.' He wiped his forehead forlornly. 'May I express how deeply saddened I am by the way this day has turned out.'

On into the broad wastes of the North Atlantic Artemis sailed, watch by watch, routines performed by rote, duties done with no heart in them. The first Atlantic gales came; once more the smash of seas and hiss of spray over the decks, racing dark clouds, deep thrumming in the rigging.

When Kydd came on watch at midnight, dirty weather had set in to accompany the spiteful blasts of the gale, rain driven with vindictive force that reddened cheeks and eyes.

He set the first helmsmen of the watch, checked the slate by the light of the binnacle and took the state of sail. It was a little surprising that the officer-of-the-watch, Rowley, did not shorten sail in this blow, for Artemis was straining aloft and making hard work of the beat to windward. But then again there would be few who would prefer to lose this chance to reach England the quicker.

Kydd watched Rowley standing ahead of him, huddled in grego and tarpaulin, facing into the blast, but felt no sympathy for him in his larger situation. That was a matter Rowley and Party must resolve, and Renzi's reticence on the subject was sufficient commentary on his views.

Kydd could see forward, past the pale sails to the bowsprit plunging and rearing far ahead with a sudden bursting of spray over the fo'c'sle, and he pitied the hapless forward lookouts at the catheads. Renzi would be with the rest of the dutymen, hanking down after the customary sail-trimming at the turn of the watch. He would be able to take shelter behind a weather bulwark.

The helmsman stolidly met the bullying of the gale, his leeward mate following his motions on the other side, two men necessary in this blow. Kydd was settling down to an uncomfortable and boring watch, when against the buffeting roar of the wind he picked up a lookout's faint cry from forward. It was picked up amidships and repeated immediately, a dreadful yell - 'Breakers aheeeaaad!; . Two points on the weather bow!'

A shaft of cold fear lanced into his vitals. He tensed for Rowley's order - but Rowley seemed to be deep in some sort of reverie. The officer-of-the-watch had the responsibility, and only him. 'Sir!' he bawled in alarm.

Rowley seemed disoriented. 'Helm hard up!' he shouted. This would instantly sheer the vessel away from the danger and away from the wind, on the face of it a sensible move. Kydd roared at the helmsmen and they spun the wheel frantically. The ship bucketed and rocked at the sudden change in direction.

Parry appeared at the fore-hatch and bounded on deck. 'Belay that - hard down the helm!' he bellowed. Kydd hesitated: Parry was senior to Rowley and had every right to overrule him — except that Rowley was officer-of-the-watch and in charge.

'Quartermaster!' said Rowley, in hard tones. 'Inform Mr Parry that I am officer-of-the-watch. I have the ship.'

Kydd's jaw dropped. He looked back at Parry, who bunched his fists. 'Sir, Mr Rowley begs to tell you—'

'Kydd, tell that infernal idiot that the ship stands into danger! Helm hard a-larboard!'

It was clear to Kydd that Parry's order was indeed the right one: admittedly they were now headed away from the breakers, but they were going at an increasing speed to leeward and headlong towards whatever was out there. Parry's order would have had the effect of setting the ship all aback, in stays, but at least it would stop Artemis in her tracks and buy them time to decide.

'Helm hard down,' he snapped at the helmsmen.

Before they could move, Rowley shouted, 'Avast!' He turned to Kydd, although his eyes remained on Parry. 'Enquire of Mr Parry if he is relieving me of my duties, quartermaster.'

Parry's chest heaved, but before he could respond another, more urgent cry came — 'Breakers to loo'ard! I see breakin' sea all t' loo'ard!' The voice ended in a falsetto shriek.

'I have the conn!' roared Parry. 'Helm down — hard over for your lives!' Their run downwind away from the first breakers had placed them in mortal danger from the second. In the loom of night a continuous white line of breakers emerged to leeward and ahead; it was plain they had unwittingly run into the arms of a small bay. Agonisingly the ship's head came around again. They brought up into the wind - but the watch were not at stations to go about, and the vessel fell away to leeward, slewing hopelessly around.

It was now inevitable, and at a little after two in the morning His Majesty's Frigate Artemis ran on to an offshore rocky ledge, part of a small unknown islet somewhere in the Atlantic.

Kydd's world dissolved into a frightful smashing, rearing, splintering chaos. He was flung down and shot forward helplessly over the lurching wet deck in a welter of tarpaulins, to fetch up painfully against the main jeer bitts.