In Distant Waters Read Online Free PDF Page A

himself outboard, his back hanging downwards as
Patrician
’s hull rolled them out over the sea, then his kicking heels disappeared and Drinkwater took advantage of the return roll and followed him into the top.
    Pausing for breath, Drinkwater took stock of the situation. The foretopsail yard, loosed by its halliards, lay roughly overthe top of the foreyard, the huge flapping bunt of sail thundered in wild billows only partially restrained by the weight of the yard and the buntlines and clewlines. Drinkwater waved the topmen aloft and out along the yard. He could see Frey already at the extremity of the windward yardarm, his pea-jacket blown over his back and his sparse shirt-tail flapping madly.
    â€˜Come on lads, lay out and furl that tops’l!’
    He clung to the topgallant mast heel-rope downhaul and looked aloft. The fore-topgallantmast had been struck, sent down and lashed parallel to its corresponding topmast to reduce the windage of unneeded tophamper. Now, as he stared upwards, his eyes watering and the wind tugging at him, he saw that the housed topgallantmast was acting like a splint to the fractured mast. The latter had sprung badly, the split starting from a shake in the timber. Drinkwater cursed and wondered how long that spar had been pickling in the mast-pond at Chatham. The topmast was almost split in two; whatever he decided to do, it would have to be quick, before both spars were lost. He peered on deck. Morning had broken now, though the sun had risen into a cloud bank and daylight was dimmed. Its arrival somehow surprised him, such had been his preoccupation.
    Quilhampton looked upwards anxiously, clearly considering that Drinkwater’s action in going aloft was unseemly. Beside him Fraser stood staring up, one hand clapped over his tricorne hat.
    The men were laying in from the yard, having passed the reef-points and Drinkwater called to them to begin to clear the gear away ready to send the topmast down on deck. It would be a long, complex and difficult job in the sea that was running, but he sensed in their changed expressions that the surly disinterest had been replaced by a sudden realisation of the danger they were in. Besides, he had no intention of making life too easy for them; those lost miles to leeward nagged him as he made his way down on deck.
    After the clamour of the foretop, the quarterdeck seemed a sanctuary. Fraser began to remonstrate.
    â€˜Sir, you shouldn’t ha’ . . .’
    â€˜Be damned to you, Fraser, the men are disaffected . . . inyour absence it was necessary I set ’em an example . . . now have the kindness to order the spanker and foretopmast stays’l set . . . just the clew of the spanker, mind you, I want this ship on the wind and then we’ll sort out the mess of the foremast . . .’
    Fraser nodded his understanding and Drinkwater regretted the jibe at the first lieutenant. It was mean, but he was in a damnably mean mood and meant to ride down this discontent, even if it first meant riding his officers.
    â€˜We’ll set a goose-winged maintops’l when we’ve finished, and see if we can’t claw back some of the leeway we’ve made . . .’
    Hill, the elderly sailing master summoned on deck at the cry for all hands, nodded his agreement and put the traverse board back by the binnacle.
    â€˜It’s a damn . . .’
    â€˜Deck! Deck there!’
    The scream was high pitched and uttered with such urgency that it carried above the gale. The officers looked up at Midshipman Frey. He was leaning against the barricade of the foretop, pointing ahead.
    â€˜Sir! There’s a ship, sir . . . a ship! Right ahead!’
    â€˜Impossible!’
    That first reaction was gone in an instant. As he scrambled into the mizen rigging Drinkwater’s active mind considered the odds of another ship being under their feet in this remote