Zealand

14. Deptford Creek

Captain and I tacked Bessy back and forth across the river, sailing into the wind and against the flooding tide, and I worried each time we drew close to the embankment. Though I ought not to have; his timing was every time good, and his orders were quiet and calm.

When I turned to watch the fire, he said, "It serves no purpose to dwell upon what we cannot change, lad. It is best now to concentrate upon our sailing and what lies ahead."

Except for those words and his orders, he remained silent, and he didn't even once look back. Though I wanted to watch, I kept my eyes ahead and on the sails and sheets, ready for his next orders.

Finally, with the river bending sharp to the south, we set up on a long reach across the wind, and this carried us past the wharf where we had loaded the vegetables. All this while, the current had gradually slowed as the tide neared full. By the time we had reached the river's next turning, the ebb had commenced, and we had the current with us.

As we rounded the bend, Captain pointed ahead and said, "The creek entrance is just beyond those masts."

I had not before seen such large ships, and as we passed them, I asked, "What are these, sir?"

"Ships of the line, lad. This is where the Navy builds, repairs and provisions their ships for battle."

"For fighting the Dutch?"

"Aye, and France and Denmark in the current war."

"Mother never explained war in a way that made sense to me."

Captain chuckled. "Likely because most wars make little sense. This one is because we each want the riches of the East Indies to ourselves. Our trading companies fight with each other on the other side of the world, and this has now grown to our navies battling here and in the Caribbean."

I remained silent, my eyes and mouth agape as we sailed past the first ship, then when I saw long lines of men coming and going between the next one and a huge building, I asked, "What are they doing, sir?"

"Storing ship, lad. Lading provisions and victuals for their next voyage."

"Vittles?[1] What's that, sir?"

"Food and drink. Ships must carry sufficient for many months." He shrugged. "There are no markets out there on the seas."

I pointed back upriver. "And there's now no market for your vegetables."

"Aye, lad. And even if the markets are not burnt, they are surely abandoned."

"What will the people eat?"

"There are granges beyond the gates, established to supply the city's markets. This end of London is occupied in the main by the wealthy, and those who have fled through the gates will use their ingenuity to provide for themselves. We can hope they will also help those without means."

"Oh, I do hope." I returned my attention to examining the ships as we sailed past, then curious, I asked, "Why's all the gold and carvings at their sterns, sir?"

"It serves no purpose but decoration, lad. It is thought to make the ship's appearance reflect the dignity and importance of the owner, and since these are the King's ships, the decoration is rich and profuse." He pointed. "There, the decoration is mainly around the windows of the great cabin and those of the gunrooms below."

"Great cabin. Like where you said you lived aboard?"

"Aye, lad." He sighed long and loud. "But those days are past."

"I sense you miss it, sir."

"More than I thought I would, lad. The call of the sea is strong, and once it enters your blood, it will never leave."

"But you have Bessy to sail."

"Aye, but with her, it is a rather unchanging sameness. Out there is adventure." He sighed again and nodded. "Aye, freedom and adventure."

I watched his face change to the way it looks when he tells his sea stories. "Will you go to sea again, sir?"

He pursed his lips, remaining silent, and I saw a slight bobbing of his head. Then he pointed ahead and said, "Sharp, now, lad. Listen close and follow quick."

He pushed the tiller to turn Bessy a long way to starboard, and I adjusted the sheets as he ordered, setting us on a reach across the wind, stemming the ebb current and heading fast toward the edge of the river.

We drew closer and closer to the embankment, and I looked up at Captain in question, fearing we would run up onto it.

"Eyes on the sails, lad, and mind close the sheets."

Then with Bessy less than her length from the rocks, an opening appeared, and we glided into it. "This is Deptford Creek, lad. A short, blind one, so we will soon lose the current of the river."

The narrow creek was filled with water the colour of the jocolatte[2] we drank after dinner the first night, and it narrowed as we rounded two sharp bends. Then around two gentle bends, it was little more than half a boat-length to either bank, yet we continued along it.

"Let fly the sheets, lad."

I did as he ordered, the sails fluttering and slapping in the wind as Bessy slowed. Then following his further orders, I made a bight[3] in the mooring line at the bow, dropped it over a dolphin[4] sticking up out of the creek and brought the end to the cleat. When I looked aft to know what else he wanted, I saw he had also looped a dolphin, and we had moored.

While Captain lowered and lashed the jib, I brailed the main, and when we had finished, he said, "The tide will drop us about four feet before we sit on the bottom."

"Four feet? Not twenty-four?"

"Aye, only four. The creek is shallow here as it nears the end of its tidal reach." He pointed ahead. "Little more than half a mile in length, its end is there in Lewisham, where River Ravensbourne flows into it."

"Oh! Is that where we fill the goatskin?"

"Nay, lad. The river fouls as it flows through the village." He tilted his head up the embankment. "There is a fresh spring up the slope here, and it supplies my houses."

"Your houses are here?"

"Aye, lad." Then pointing to Bessy's load, he continued, "Help me find the gang-board[5] beneath all this, so we may step ashore and stretch our legs."

Notes:
[1] The correct pronunciation of victuals is vittles, and this is what Charles would have heard.
[2] Jocolatte was how Samuel Pepys spelt the chocolate drink he had in a London coffee-house in November 1664. 
[3] A bight is a bend or loop in the middle of a line or rope. 
[4] A dolphin in this context is a structure consisting of a number of piles driven into the riverbed as a mooring. 
[5] The word gang-board was replaced by gangplank in 1842.