The Death of Hope Andrew Wareham (book club reads TXT) 📖

deadbeat ships; a pity he could not do the samefor the men.”

Crewe was shocked. Some of the old-timerswere out of date, perhaps, yet they had the right ideas fundamentally.

“Still makes more sense to capture theenemy than to sink them, old chap. In Nelson’s day, more than one in ten of theNavy’s ships were French or Spanish or Dutch or Danish originally, captured inbattle and used to our advantage. Good idea to close and capture, you know, Adams.”

“It is impossible with modern guns, Crewe.The explosive shell is a ship sinker. That’s why we should be practicing at tenmiles and more, using the big guns as they should be. In Connaught, earlierthis year, we opened fire on destroyers at twenty-eight thousand yards and drovethem back to port before they had reached twenty-four. That’s how the gunsshould be used.”

“Good God! How did you do that? Never trieda target over five thousand, myself, and far more inclined to wait for three.Ridiculous sort of thing to do, when you consider it. How are you going to taketheir surrender at that distance?”

“You are not, Crewe. You must sink them. Adestroyer that takes one of our nine point two inch bricks won’t survive very long,anyway. In these days of torpedoes, one must keep the small ships far distant.That means sink them at least five miles out.”

“Ten thousand yards? Hit a tiny destroyerat that range, old chap? Not sure that I would like to try, you know. No, blastthem with six inch when they come to a reasonable distance. Open sights at halfa mile is best. Can always dodge their torpedoes, you know.”

Christopher gave up the unequal argument.Crewe was incapable of assimilating any new ideas, it seemed. God help BlackPrince if she ever went into battle.

“Not to worry, old fellow. Sun’s over theyardarm, is it not?”

Crewe agreed it was. A pink gin would bejust the thing to set them up for the day.

The Atlantic was pleasantly calm, as itcould be in summer, long low swells and little wind and a bright sun. Pleasurecruise weather. Black Prince made her way north, the west coast of Ireland justin sight and the lookouts scanning the sea for periscopes or anything out ofthe ordinary.

“Sailing vessel, four-masted barque, nor’west.Fifteen miles.”

Christopher put his glasses on the speck,picked out the masts and sails and little else. He waited for the officer ofthe watch to act.

Lieutenant Chalmers took up a large, oldtelescope, inherited from a sailor grandfather most likely, certainly of highermagnification than Christopher’s binoculars, had a little trouble finding themerchantman, finally settled onto her.

“Swedish flag. Two thousand tonner,thereabouts. Big. Four masts. All fore and aft sails. No topgallants. Smokefrom a boiler on deck…”

He seemed puzzled by his last observation.

“Power winches, Holmes, to set sail. Shecan probably make do with a dozen deckhands.”

“Never heard of that, Adams.”

Holmes seemed faintly offended as if it weresomehow wrong that a sailing ship should make use of steam power.

“Course from the States to France, perhaps,Adams?”

It was legitimate to ask the navigator’sadvice on such matters.

“Or to Portugal – salt fish from the GrandBanks, maybe. Could be to Spain with American or Canadian wheat. Might be boundinto the Med. Unlikely to be heading for an English port. Just possible she’sbound for Cork. What tack is she on?”

“Starboard, easy on the wind. Not beatingup.”

Holmes was at a loss for what to do next,did not want to ask for advice on the actions he should take. Christopher madeno attempt to say anything – he was not a watchkeeper.

“Captain to the bridge!”

Holmes had finally given an order. Thewrong one in Christopher’s opinion, refusing all responsibility and taking noaction.

Captain Gilpin-Brown appeared within theminute, assessed the situation within seconds, called a series of commands torespond.

“Close up main armament. Ten of portwheel. Increase revolutions for twenty knots. Yeoman, make the challenge.”

The merchantman raised another Swedishflag to the maintopmast in response.

“No signalling lamp. Don’t know the flagcode. Typical merchantman. Any deck cargo?”

Deck cargo would be shrouded intarpaulins, which might be concealing guns or torpedo tubes rather than cratesif she was a commerce raider in disguise.

Christopher scanned her decks, saw them tobe clear from bows to stern. No deck cabins; no cargo. He waited for Holmes togive the confirmation, there being no urgency.

“Clean, sir. Just a boiler by the mainmast.”

The Swedish flag was painted large on herhull, the gold and blue shining bright.

“Steer to pass within hailing range at fiveknots, Holmes.”

The Captain left it to Holmes to translatethat command into a precise set of orders, noticed how long it took him to doso.

Christopher suspected that Mr Holmes’ personalreport would have a couple of sentences added before evening, that he would bea long time waiting on his promotion.

A brief conversation with anEnglish-speaking officer confirmed the Swede to be an innocent neutral boundfor Cadiz with grain. She had made a quick passage and had seen nothing, whichwas normal for a neutral which had no business giving information tobelligerents, possibly compromising their own status.

Black Prince returned to course, a briefnote in the log saying only, ‘spoke Swedish barque Helga off Irish coast’.

Holmes spoke to Christopher later, lookingmuch ruffled and calling for a brandy.

“Captain was a bit shirty, Adams! A lot ofdamned fuss and nonsense for a neutral! Nothing to concern ourselves aboutthere, I would have thought.”

“There are a few commerce raiders out,Holmes. Not many and far less of a worry than the submarines might be but weneed to keep an eye out for them. Not likely to be sailing ships, I will admit.”

Holmes was hardly placated; he thought hehad done well enough that there was no need for the Captain to abuse him. He suppedhis brandy and calmed down, Christopher doing little to ease him. He had betterthings to do than calm the ruffled feathers of the incompetent.

“Off Londonderry, sir, by thirty miles. Coursechange for Bass Rock.”

“Very good, Adams. Make it so.”

Christopher gave the orders. They had seenno signs of submarines off the Irish coast and were not displeased to be ontheir way out of waters that might contain such unpleasant beasts. The likelihoodwas too high that the first indication of a submarine