Zealand

27. Double Vision

Wednesday, 13th February 1666

Mid-afternoon on Wednesday, while Captain and I sat reading before the hearth, there came a knock on the door. I rose and opened it to a young man, and he said, "Mister Pett has returned from London, and he bids Captain Bryson join him."

I turned to see Captain rise from his chair and close the hearth doors. Then he pointed to the garderobe. "Cape and hat, lad. No time to don finery."

I had to lope to keep up with Captain as he strode along the dike-side road toward the Royal Dockyard, nearly two of my strides to his one. He had many times told me the call of the sea is strong, and his haste now well shows this. But I also sense the call. The excitement. Pulled by all his tales of adventure, I suppose.

Not ten minutes later, Mister Pett welcomed us into his office, and after greetings, he said, "Good news, Captain Bryson. Both Mister Pepys and the Duke see the wisdom of effecting the repairs in our yard, and they are most grateful for your generous offer to settle unpaid wages. A list is being prepared."

"Excellent! And my offer to purchase?"

"Mister Pepys agreed with your reasoning, and he recommended accepting. The Duke was willing, but he found no way to change the King's order, so he has set the auction for the morrow's forenoon at eleven of the clock."[1]

"To-morrow."[2] Captain shook his head. "What fatuous folly. How will they gather interest by then?"

The Commissioner laughed. "You want no other interest gathered. But that aside, both the Prince and Mister Pepys are convinced that with the rebuilding fervour, all attempts to elicit interest would prove futile. Though more to the point, with the Admiralty in immediate need of money, this swift sale eases several of their problems in one fell swoope."[3]

Captain nodded. "In effect, they have accepted my purchase offer."

"Indeed. Though, with the King's order, we must hold a public auction, and with your honour, we expect a bid of three thousand pounds."

"Yes, I see that – the propriety."

"Lord Ashley bade me conduct the sale. Is your preference open or by inch of candle?"[4]

"With no other bidders, save the candle and do open." Captain tilted his head. "Who is Lord Ashley?"

"The Treasurer of the Commissioners of Prizes. His secretary, Mister Lloyd, will attend here to record and to arrange payment."

All this while, I listened, understanding most of it in the beginning but fast losing sense of it with all the unknown words. So many of them remain unlearnt. Eleven thousand in the Glossographia,[5] and I have yet to finish the Es. Need to find a way to make it less wearisome.[6]

"May we again examine Zealand?" Captain's words took me from my thoughts, and my heart swelled.

"Yes, certainly. She is now with Delfe in the dock, and you might wish to also examine her – consider the advantage of sailing in company."

"Interesting thought. How long would it take to effect her repairs?"

Mister Pett ran his finger down a list on his desk. "Three new ribs and the replanking are the major work, plus replacing the starboard mainmast chains and rigging. All else is superficial. With no other work in the yard, not beyond two weeks."

"And Zealand?"

"A new fore topmast and gallant stepped and rigged, new topgallant, topsail and jibs, repairs to forecastle, bulwarks, coamings and covers." He shrugged. "Nine or ten days – with both simultaneous, two weeks at most."

"What chance that I find a good captain on the list from the Admiralty?"

Mister Pett shook his head. "You will find none."

"So, no senior officers?"

"Oh, there and many, but you had said good. With the war, the good ones are all in ships – those ashore are there for cause."

Captain pursed his lips and nodded. "The reason so many ships are idled?"

"In part, and since the fire, exacerbated by the lack of money." Mister Pett raised a finger. "But there are many lieutenants awaiting post,[7] and you may well have your pick from among them."

Again, I lost sense of their intercourse, but it seems he wants another captain. Why? Maybe the ship is so big that it needs more than one. The other to captain while he sleeps? Aha! That might be why – he had said we sail day and night without stop for many weeks.

Will there be two cabin boys, as well? One for when I sleep. And what duties? No halyards or sail sheets in the great cabin. What am I to do?

Captain's hand on my shoulder startled me from my thoughts. "Come, lad. We must examine the ships in more detail to expand our understanding and confidence."

"Aye, sir." I stood and followed him from the office.

Then outside, I searched the dock for the two Dutch ships, and not seeing them among the others moored there, I asked.

Captain pointed toward the masts in the middle of the yard. "In the dried dock, lad."[8]

"Oh! I thought their masts were much higher."

He chuckled. "They now sit a good thirty feet below us, making it easier to assess their soundness and to effect repairs."

I puzzled at this while we approached, then as we started down the stone steps in the wall, my mind was overwhelmed by the vast size of the hulls.

Captain's answer relieved part of my question, "Near half of a ship's hull sits below the water, filled with stores and ballast to provide stability for her masts and sails. Were it not so, the slightest breeze would topple her."

"I saw that in the drawings and thought this might be the reason. But where did all the water go?"

"The ships were floated in at high tide, and those gates were closed behind them. With the falling tide, sluices were opened to allow the water to flow out, then shut to prevent its re-entry."

After Captain had examined Delfe's hull below the gaping hole, he led me back up the steps in the dock wall and then across the gang-board to her deck. As we descended a ladder to the gun deck, he pointed to all the splintered wood. "The danger to the crew is not in being hit by a cannonball; rather, it is being struck by pieces of rent timbers they send flying. During battle, the only ones below are the gun crews."

"Will we be in battles?"

"Our goal is to intimidate them into surrender."

"Like in your stories."

"Aye. Firing upon them causes damage and lessens the value of the prize. With two ships, we will find it easier to cause surrender."

"Two ships, sir?"

"I am now inclined to purchase both."

Notes:
[1] Of the clock wasn't contracted to o'clock until 1720.
[2] Tomorrow was written as to-morrow or the morrow until the early 20th century.
[3] This is how fell swoop was spelt in Shakespeare's Macbeth as first published in the Folio of 1623, and it was the coining of the idiom, which means with one swift action.
[4] An inch of candle refers to a form of auction in which the winning bid is the highest made before the flame dies on a 2.5cm candle.
[5] The Glossographia was the largest and most complete English dictionary when it was published in 1656.
[6] The word boring didn't enter the language until 1840.
[7] Post here refers to being promoted by the Admiralty to Post Captain. Quite often, a lieutenant might be given command of a small vessel, and out of courtesy, he was called Captain while he held that position. A true Captain – the rank, not the position – was a Post Captain.
[8] The word drydock didn't exist at this time, though they had existed for nearly two millennia. The word dock was used for both wet and dry.