Zealand

43. To Sea

After Captain had wound his way up to the quarterdeck, I hastened to finish cleaning from his breakfasting, thankful I had rearranged his bed and tended to his privy closet while he ate. With the pantry again in order, I stared at the dining table, pondering whether to beeswax it now or to put the polishing aside until a less exciting time.

My feet decided for me, and as I stepped onto the quarterdeck, I saw many people gathered near the helm. Not knowing where to go, I remained beside the hatch coaming and watched.

The crew had gathered in small groups all along the deck, some leaning against the bulwarks, some sitting atop them. None doing anything but talking among themselves. Aha! Waiting for the tide to turn. Captain had said we sail on the first ebb.

Seeing none gathered at the quarterdeck's port rail, I walked over to it and looked down at the river, then across it to the embankment. Not yet full, though with the river's flow, it might be a neap. Then while I reexamined the water's movement, Captain stepped beside me and asked, "What think ye, Boy?"

"We might have a neap tide, sir. The river is now flowing downstream."

"Aye, Boy. But remember, because of the drainage from beyond tidal reach, the river's flow turns before the height of the tide."

"Yes, but it will assist us now." I pointed across the river. "It is still three or four feet below the top of the mud. We have not tracked the tides for more than two weeks, so if this is a neap, then low tide in the shoals will not be so low as usual, hiding channel edges. That might make our way through them more dangerous."

"Excellent thinking, Boy." He turned and called, "Mister Angus."

"Sir." An elegantly-dressed man hastened across the deck to Captain.

"We have the beginning of a current and a fair southwesterly. Make ready to sail."

"Aye, sir. "Make ready to sail."

As Mister Angus strode back across the deck toward the helm, he called, "Master, [1] man the sails. Bos'n, [2] tend the hawsers." [3]

A jumble of voices arose, and I watched the entire crew come alive. Some scrambled up the rattlings, [4] others lifted coiled lines from belating pins, [5] and others rushed to the hawsers on the foredeck.

I puzzled when I saw none rushing to the hawsers back here, then I realised there are none. They are handled from the gundeck to keep the quarterdeck uncluttered. Captain had explained that the only people up here and those who control the ship – and those who ...

My thoughts were interrupted when Mister Angus approached and said, "Ready to depart, sir."

"Thank you. I shall take control."

"Aye, sir. You have the ship."

Captain strode across the deck, calling, "Master Forbes, hoist the jibs."

"Aye, sir. The jibs."

Master's loud voice soon had blocks squealing as two long lines of men walked the halyards aft, causing the foresails to rise up the stays. I marvelled at the way the men rotated from the end of the line to the front with no interruption to the steady hoisting, their practice yesterday showing well. The wrinkles fell out of the sails as they neared the top; their fluttering in the breeze assisting.

When both jibs were swiggered and secure, Captain called, "Master Forbes. Sheet the foresails."

"Aye, sir. Sheet the jibs."

"Bos'n, release the bow. Standby aft."

"Aye, sir. Release bow, standby aft."

As the jibs were sheeted and the breeze caught them, Zealand's bow swung slowly to port, and I watched the foredeck crew recover the released hawser.

"Bos'n. Release aft."

"Aye, sir. Release aft."

"Master. Hoist and sheet the mizzen."

"Aye, sir. Mizzen and sheet."

"Let fall the topsails and sheet."

"Aye, sir. The topsails pulling."

"Helmsman. Centre the river and follow it."

"Aye, sir. Follow the middle of the river."

I marvelled at all of this – logic turning complexity to simplicity. When I turned to watch Delfe's jibs being run up her stays, I realised we were at sea. Well, not at sea – but away from land. And the land – so much more of it seen from way up here. Not all hidden by the embankments as it was with Bessy.

A squealing above me startled, and I looked up. Of course, the mizzen being hoisted. Then I watched the men out to the ends of the foremast and mainmast yards release the gaskets and let fall the sails as they sidled back in. Must ask Captain when I'll be allowed to do that.

Zeland's speed increased as the topsails and mizzen were sheeted, and soon we were going much faster – no making more speed – than we ever did in Bessy. When all shouting of orders, the squealing of blocks and the snapping and fluttering of sails had stopped, I could again hear the voices of Captain and his officers.

'... the helmsman following the centre of the river and Master calling sail adjustments as wind angles change, yours, Mister Angus, is to overview, [6] being ever ready to step in and redirect if necessary."

"Yes, this is as we had done in His Majesty's ships, sir."

"Excellent! Are you ready to take the ship?"

"I am, sir."

"Fine. The ship is yours, Mister Angus."

"I have the ship, sir."

What? How can he give her away? He has owned her not yet two weeks. What will become of me?

Notes:
[1] Master was the title of the man tasked with sailing the ship as directed by the captain.
[2] Bos'n is the senior hand responsible for a ship's deck and hull. This shortening of boatswain first appeared in Shakespeare's The Tempest in 1611 as bosun, and in subsequent editions, it became bos'n.
[3] Hawsers are large ropes used for mooring or towing.
[4] Rattlings are small lines tied across the shrouds to serve as ladders up the masts. The word evolved into ratline in the 1770s.
[5] Belaying pins are stout brass or hardwood pins inserted in pinrails along the inside of the bulwarks, and they're used to secure the running rigging – the sheets, jeers and halyards.
[6] In the seventeenth century, overview meant to supervise.