“Aye aye, sir.”
“First Lieutenant and Coxswain are on trains at the moment, should be here today. We can delay setting a watch-keeping roster until the First arrives. Mr Rees will be busy with the guns and tubes so Mr Higgins will be Officer of the Day. Mr McCracken, take Waller on a tour of the ship, if you please. No engineroom personnel present, Mr Rees?”
“Chief ERA has gone across to the yard, sir, to pick up some spares. His senior is working on the steering motor, which took some strain last night – details I do not know, sir. Hands are to Make and Mend after cleaning ship, sir. The grounding upset everything in the mess decks and there is an amount to do to make themselves comfortable again.”
“They took the mud at speed, I presume?”
“I believe so, sir. I have not had the opportunity to discuss the details yet.”
Simon shook his head; the lookouts should have seen something, have been able to give a last-minute warning.
“I shall be in my cabin for a while, reading the log and getting a feel for the ship. Pass the word that there will be no inspections today. I shall go over the whole ship tomorrow, with the new First.”
A new captain’s inspection was normally of a gleaming bright ship, polished and ready for him; he did not want to start his tenure by discovering the mess left behind by the night’s misfortunes.
The Log revealed almost nothing. The previous captain had been cautious in all of his entries. His record of the grounding recorded latitude and longitude of the mud bank and the fact that the First Lieutenant had the watch and the Coxswain was at the wheel; it said nothing else. Glancing back, the ship had not gone to action stations, was cruising through the night with half of her men asleep.
‘Bloody slack!’
Packer poked his head in the door from his little pantry.
“Did you call, sir?”
“No, I didn’t, but I’ll take a mug of tea, please. What’s the buzz?”
“Haven’t heard it all yet, sir. Captain’s steward was filling a trunk with a load of bottles when I got here, sir. Cheap whisky, not a good single malt for entertaining. From what he said, the captain slept heavy most nights.”
“Drunken bastard!”
“It happens, sir. Not often.”
“Fortunately, Packer. I’m going up to the bridge – bring my tea up there, please.”
The bridge was as it should be – open, a fraction greater than Sheldrake’s and higher, due to the raised forecastle. She looked a more modern ship, faster and tidier, an obvious development on the older destroyer.
Three funnels lower and broader, that difference very clear to the eye. Three guns, all four inch on the centreline, fore, midships and aft. The Maxim up on a little bandstand, two twin torpedo tubes, well aft. Mountings on the bridge wings which suggested single Lewises, stored below decks for some reason. There was a rack with six cutlasses on display, bright and shiny with elaborate plaited cords to the hilts, presumably for the bridge party in case of need; they would go!
The Yeoman of the Signals was quietly working over his locker, scrubbing and folding his flags, a single rating at his side.
“Yeoman!”
“Hardy, sir.”
“Have we a wireless installation?”
“In its own little cabin below the bridge, sir. Captain wouldn’t use it and set the operator to work with me, sir. Pascoe, sir.”
The rating stiffened to attention.
“Keep watch in the wireless cabin, Pascoe. Have you a relief?”
“No, sir. Expected to train up a bright young bloke meself, sir. He won’t need to do repairs, just to man the key and shout for me if anything comes through. Haven’t had much chance to work on the set, sir.”
“Do so with immediate effect, Pascoe. Condition report for the First Lieutenant. Indent for any spares needed. Get the set in top order within the week.”
“Aye aye, sir. I shall have to replace the aerial, sir. Captain said it disfigured the mast and had it taken down, sir.”
“Can you do it or is it a yard job?”
“Do it meself, sir.”
“Well done! Carry on. Yeoman, do you need another hand now?”
“Could use one, sir. I’ll speak to the Coxswain and the First, sir.”
“Good. Arrange it as you wish.”
The paintwork was fresh, well maintained to peacetime standards. Simon had a suspicion that the previous owner had been a peacetime sailor, had not been at home sailing out to war.
His tea arrived, belatedly.
“No kettle in the pantry, sir. Had to borrow from the wardroom.”
“Go ashore and pick up all you need, Packer. Take money from my desk. We have the half-section so there must be mugs for three other captains as well.”
Mid afternoon brought the Coxswain, travelling light with a large duffle bag and small suitcase, used to destroyers.
“Westerman, sir, reporting.”
A South Country accent, Portsmouth probably, from a short, busy little man, dark and muscular and never still.
“Good to see you, Coxswain. One or two little problems aboard, or so I suspect. Keep an eye out for what’s going on. We will be a week or so in Harwich before a first patrol out to the Broad Fourteens for a couple of days. Expect to be in business off the Belgian coast after the fortnight. When the First arrives, you will go over the watch lists together, tidy everything up. Taut but not harsh, if you please.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The Coxswain trotted below, reappeared ten minutes later at the side of a petty officer who was showing him something at the stern.
“No problems there, Mr Higgins.”
“No, sir. Looks like another boat for us, sir.”
“Officer?”
“No, sir. Chief ERA by the looks of it, sir. Some wooden boxes in the bottom of the boat.”
“Don’t see those, Mr Higgins. All unofficial!”
“How do I not see something, sir?”
“You see those seagulls following the fishing boats over there, Mr Higgins?”
A deeply suspicious voice agreed that he did.
“Well, watch the bloody shitehawks and you won’t see the Chief ERA, Mr Higgins!”
Higgins thought the captain was possibly being unkind to him. He obeyed orders, knowing that was always a safe thing to do.
Mr Rees came up to the bridge, a list in hand.
“Beg pardon, sir, but there is a need to indent for four inch shell and three-o-three rounds, in some quantity, sir. The leading hand and gun captain to the stern four inch is the senior gunnery hand aboard and tells me the Gunner made his indent two weeks back…”
“And nothing happened – talking of which, Mr Rees, have you heard of brain cells?”
Mystified, Rees agreed he had – there were millions of them, apparently, in some way working together to produce human intelligence.
“Or not working, as the case may be, Mr Rees.”
Simon glanced across at Higgins, still busily watching the birds.
They shook their heads in unison and turned to watch the Chief ERA come aboard and trot up to the bridge, all in a hurry, calling instructions over his shoulder to the boat’s crew who were bringing the boxes aboard.
“Beg pardon, sir, I had to go across to the yard early, assumed your permission… Sorry, sir, you are not Captain Hayes.”
“I certainly was not last time I looked in a mirror, Chief. I am Captain Sturton, leader of the half-section.”
“Ah, I see, sir. Captain Hayes hit one mudbank too many, sir?”
“He did indeed, Chief.”
“Right, sir. Beg pardon, sir, Chief ERA Malcolm reporting, sir. Delayed by the need to beg spares from the yard, sir, the steering engine having taken slight damage last night and preferring to replace rather than repair, sir.”
“Very good, Mr Malcolm. The First Lieutenant and Coxswain have gone as well, the new premier to arrive later today. For the immediate term, do you need anything in the engineroom?”