Issue 03 – February 1791
“ ... a fine mess you landed us in!” Oliver Hardy,
Purser HMS Hollywood
The storm was enjoying itself. Fate didn’t ask you to do a solo performance in the Bay of Biscay every day. The dark clouds and the short, gusty blasts of a wind that felt like coming straight from the South pole without paying a call on Mr. Tropics were just right, the storm knew, and the sea was responding beautifully, throwing up that particular kind of waves known as “widowmakers” all along the western coast of France. But he’d have to pay attention to his instructions regarding the snow and sleet department, the storm knew. Fate had been very explicit about that. And about someone named Cliff ...!
Master’s mate Wayne Kin-Madley at the wheel of HMS Belle Poule shook his head as another flurry of snowflakes hit him. Bloody weather! The storm had surprised them off La Rochelle, just after that large merchantman had appeared out of a squall on their weather side. About sixteen hundred tons Thames measurement, he had thought. Could be an Indiaman, a prize taken by one of these French commercial raiders and sent home to disgorge its riches into Boney’s bottomless coffers. Yes, that would explain the way she had immediately put before the wind and the fact that she seemed to handle rather sluggish – no doubt due to the veritable forest of barnacle weeds unter her bottom. But it must have been a bad shock to the Frogs to find HMS Belle Poule waiting practically on their doorstep.
And now both ships were scudding along under bare poles without so much as a scrap of sail set, heading towards Brest in the foulest weather WKN had ever known. Strange too, that the French hadn’t extinguished the single light shining from the cabin. Yes there it was again. Not bobbing much, very steady ... surprisingly steady ... and with that thought a stab of ice-cold fear went through his heart. That wasn’t a cabin light. That was the beacon from the lighthouse atop the Cliff off Creuze! The thought had hardly formed in his mind when the curtain of sleet suddenly split, revealing a row of rocky outcrops on the left side, well past the Belle Poule’s stern. No way to regain the open sea, WKN saw. And no way an anchor would hold in this weather. They’d have to make their way to the jetty ahead. He turned to his companion at the wheel: “My compliments to the captain, Mr. Goodman, and we’ll be paying Boney a visit soon. All secret documents must be flung overboard immediately and you better put all the money you can find into your pockets. And please ask Mr. O’Groats to do the same, including that marvellous Breguet repeater of his. Boney’s minnions may not love us, but they still respect the convention regarding prisoners of war, last I heard. We’ll be in London before the month is out. ...!”
And so they were. At the Admiralty a clerk took their reports and the letter from the French mayor, which commended Messr. O’Groats and Goodmann for their exemplary conduct in the whole affair. In French, of course, but fortunately AG knew enough of the language to make a decent guess what the letter would say. This so impressed the Lords that they appointed him to the old HMS Mars and made him 2nd Lieutenant on the spot. WKN wasn’t mentioned, but since he had a cool 700 Guineas in his pockets he didn’t mind being left out. He did, however, invite his shipmates to dine with Emma and him at Fladong’s during the first week of next month Both JOG and AG agreed readily - after a diet of salt beef and tack, dinner at Fladong’s seemed a brillant idea. And after dinner, perhaps a trip to the Opera ...?Meanwhile, the storm continued to enjoy himself. Those “widowmaker” waves were really piling up now, and he was experimenting with an occasional cross sea. Fate had granted him another couple of hours to strut his stuff, and the storm was now looking for a new victim. He found it too – in the shape of HMS Sheik Yassouf. Again, the lookout and the officers and men on deck got a brief glimpse of a large ship to windward before a particularly nasty patch of snow (mixed with sleet) distracted them. Seconds later, a mountain of saltwater crashed against the ship’s flank, broaching her instantly. Very few of the ship’s company survived, but among those who did were Master’s mate Tyler Brooks, Sailor Owen Murney and Private John Doe of the RM, who all managed to cling to some wood for several days until a revenue cutter out of Brighton harbour picked them up. In their report to the Admiralty (written small in beautiful copperplate by OMY) both TB and JD stated that the ship looked like a Dutch Indiaman to them, that the topgallantmasts hadn’t been struck down, and that they had seen no one at her wheel. By nightfall, the story of the “Flying Dutchman” was all over town, and JD was looking at a new stripe on his sleeve – subaltern at last!
By now, the storm was tiring fast. Soloing really takes it out of you, he thought. And he had had another visitor. Female, this time. But she had not wasted a second with small talk. “Enough!” The Lady had said. Nothing more. And the storm had wandered off towards the South American coast for a bit of well-earned R&R, while HMS Berwickshire had come pelting up past the Azores, crowding on sail in order to bring the news home: The French were out!
On HMS Berwickshire, 3rd Lieutenant Fernando Feghoot wrote in the ship’s log: “February 11th, 38´35”N, 28´27W, off Horta, Fayal, Azores. Wind SSE, variable strength, calm sea. People employed in painting gun strakes. Six bells Noon watch: Lookout reports two 74s and five Frigates, French Flag, Vice Admiral ensign at the Fore, going south. At once piped “all hands” to hoist in platforms and to weigh anchor ...”. He didn’t have to add that this would come as a nasty surprise to Jo’burg station. The only Vice Admiral the French had was Linois, a cunning old fox by all acounts. Even if the Admiralty could find the ships to deal with him, the East India Company would probably lose a few of theirs. And the Company didn’t like losing ships. It would squeal and put every kind of pressure on Parliament, which would in turn put pressure on the Admiralty ... which probably meant that, once they were in London, he’d better get off the ship before a new set of orders arrived.Although he didn’t know it at the time, FF was right. HMS Fiddler’s Green had been assigned station duty off Brest, and when the French slipped out Captain Collingwood followed them for a while to make sure of their intentions before he ordered his ship home. This earned him a severe reprimand from Rear Admiral Tom Collins (Rear Admiral pro tem. Red Squadron and much plagued by gout). Fortunately, Collingwood had taken Midshipman Puisee D’Assinute along. When PDA offered the Admiral a complete set of the signals the French had exchanged during the time HMS Fiddler’s Green had followed them the old gentleman’s wrath abated noticeably. He even gave PDA a souvereign and promised him to mention him in dispatches.
-- FIN --
Apparently none this month!
To my darling Emma,
How sorry I am to have to be at sea and away from your loving embrace, but the needs of King and Country dictate that I, with all true and patriotic Englishmen, must do my part to defend our beloved isle. I have penned a short poem for you and hope you will see just what love I feel for you.
My love is like a celery stalk,
Divided into two,
The leaves I give to the sea,
But the stalk I save for you !
(signed) WKM----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear father,
I am writing this at sea aboard HMS Sheik Yassouf, as I have had the misfortune to be pressed into service. Please give my love to mother and the rest of the family. If you can find the funds, I may be able to better my position by purchasing a Midshipmans position.Your obedient son (signed) Owen.
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DESTROY NAPOLEON !! Keep the French away from our overseas colonies! And: FREE OPIUM TRADE!
This is what I am fighting for.(signed) Tyler Brock
Masters Mate, HMS Sheik Yassouf
First he insists on having seen an imaginary Dutch ship, now he’s full of Dutch courage! The Whispering Willow
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------To all RM,
New recruit looking for a friend or two in case some one gets smart wiv me. No hand of friendship refused, cause I is on me own! (signed) John O’Groats, RM----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To FF
I am yer man sir, I is as common as they gets, pardon me English I ain’t as educated as yer good self.(signed) John O’Groats, RM
Dear Mam,
Well I came to London like you said and blow me down if I ain’t been press ganged into the Marines! I just hope they are not a rowdy bunch of lads. I been here a month now and I seen a real big fire and things! I got a real smart uniform and stuff, even a gun!
Tell the cows I miss them and wont be home for a long, long time! Tell Brother Billy to make sure he warms his hands before he trys to milk Daisy she don’t like cold hands and might kick him! Tell Da that if he can spare any more money I would be every so grateful and will pay him back when I’ve made a name for me self, gotta go some sort of God has just walked into the barrack room by the look of things and the way every one seems to be jumping around?
(signed) Yer Lovin Son, John
TB asks to be appointed Gunner, Purser or something like that on HMS Sheik Yassouf!
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