Zealand

25. Of Influence

Captain continued talking with Mister Pett as we stood on the quarterdeck, many of their words obscure to me, and my mind blurred. Then a flood of realisation.

To sea. In a ship. In this ship. I tightened my grip on the helm's spokes.

Seems he thinks I am old enough.

But am I?

I sense I am. The way I took to helping him sail Bessy.

And what of Bessy? Leave her moored there until we return?

And return – when?

But what have we to return to? His dreams of a riverside mansion quashed by the accursed act.

And me? I have nothing but him. Him and my dreams of the sea.

I trembled at the reality.

"Come, lad." Captain's words took me out of my thoughts, and I turned to follow him and Mister Pett down a set of stairs – a ladder, I must remember. Then across the broad deck, we descended the gang-board to the wharf.

As we headed through the yard toward the office, I looked back often to confirm Zealand was still there. Real – not another fancy of my mind's conjuring.

So huge a ship – we will need help to sail her. Much help. But he had asked Mister Pett about seeking discharged sailors, so he is aware. Hah! Of course, he is; he has captained ships.

It is I who am unaware. How many will we need? A dozen? A score? Nay, more than that from all his tales. I looked back again and examined the masts. Three of them, the front one broken – foremast, Mister Pett had called it. And if it is like the other two, then from the brailing on the spreets, nine sails. And a jib – two jibs. And the sails brailed to the stays between the masts. All so huge compared to Bessy. How many sailors do we need to handle all these? Dozens.

"Come, lad."

At his voice, I realized I had stopped to examine Zealand. "Aye, sir. Sorry, sir. Such a beautiful ship. Hard not to stand and gawp."

"Indeed, and we will do plenty of looking later. But now, Mister Pett has graciously allowed us some of his precious time, and it is best we waste none of it."

I followed them into the office, where we were offered chairs. Then as the two continued their intercourse, I listened, and with fewer unfamiliar words now, most of it made sense.

When they began discussing the repairs, Mister Pett said, "That is not allowed, Captain. None but His Majesty's ships shall have work done in His Dockyards."

"Aye, but with a letter of marque, she will be effectively a man-of-war – a ship whose purpose is to hinder the King's enemies – even to attack them." Captain pointed toward the door. "I see far fewer hands out there than in previous times, and I am sure this is caused by the tight money from the war and the fire. But think, Mister Pett. It will not be the Crown nor the Admiralty paying for these repairs nor for the outfitting and victualling. Rather, the money for all these will come from my purse."

Mister Pett smiled and nodded while Captain continued, "And it will provide many of your idled workers with paid employment – something I have seen little of these past months."

"True. Not even in London. Some among them had gone there to find work with the rebuilding, but they fast discovered none can commence until after the plots have been surveyed and plans approved – many weeks yet."

"Will Mister Pepys see the logic in my engaging your expertness[1] and the skills of your workers?"

"Like you, he has a very bright mind, far brighter than those he serves – but I digress. Yes, my experience with him says he will not only grasp the wisdom in this but expand upon it."

"Great! Then, offer him this to assist his expansion: For every officer, mate and seaman I sign aboard from the discharged list, I will settle their outstanding wages and deduct one third of that total from the cost of Zealand and her repairs, refitting, outfitting and victualling."

"You would settle the Crown's debt to them?" Mister Pett's face grew astonished. "That is most unusual."

"Two parts of three. But consider it from my side, sir. Those I select will immediately know my care and respect for them, and they will return it with faithful service."

"Not only true, but also wise."

"Also, if the list provided is filled with sluggards and incompetents, I will select but few. If it is filled with the accomplished, the keen and the eager, I will choose many, so think upon this as my method of acquiring the most refined list."

"Mister Pepys will see the brilliance of this, sir."

"Then the Admiralty is in good hands. Would that the titled ones for whom he works shared his clear thinking – and yours, Mister Pett."

All this while as I listened, I stared at a large picture on the wall, wanting desperately to see its details more closely. As I leant and stretched my neck toward it, Mister Pett said, "You may stand and examine it, lad. It shows the standard rigging of a third-rate ship[2] and a cut view[3] of the hull of a first-rate."[4]

"Oh, thank you, sir." I stood, and I was soon captivated by relating names to parts, the two men's words blurring to mere sounds as I studied.[5]

I was well into my third run through when Captain's hand on my shoulder startled me. "Have you memorised it all, lad?"

"Started to, sir. But not anywhere near done."

"No matter since neither of them is like Zealand. Some similarities, yes, but many more differences. We shall see if there are drawings among her papers."

"And if there are not?"

"We shall create some. Knowing the ship and all her parts and spaces is essential to not only our safety but also to understanding how she might serve us to greatest advantage."

"Have you now bought her, sir?"

"Nay, not yet, lad. But with much good counsel, I have a firm idea of her worth, and Mister Pett has a solid understanding of my seriousness to convey to the Admiralty. But we must now leave him to organise his matters for them."

He turned and extended his hand to the Commissioner. "I bid you fair winds on the morrow, sir."

"Thank you. I shall send a lad to your house when I have news."

Notes:
[1] Expertness did not become expertise until 1868.
[2] A third-rate ship in the 1660s carried between 48 and 60 guns.
[3] Cross-section didn't enter the language until 1748.
[4] A first-rate ship in the 1660s carried between 90 to 100 guns.
[5] Focus and concentrate didn't acquire this meaning until the 1800s, so I think study would have been used in their place.