CHAPTER 29 - THE GEORGE'S BANKS
For three days and three nights the Essex and the Goodman lay at anchor in Boston harbor. Captain Lewis sold the molasses to the rum distillers in Boston, who paid a heavy price, for war had made the molasses scarce. For three days, he scoured the warfes of Boston seeking cannons to arm the Goodman. Successful in the quest, he procured twelve guns to arm the Goodman, and yet Captain Lewis paid a heavy price, for war had made cannons scarce.
On the third day, before the rising of the sun, a cool breeze flowed over Boston harbor. In the darkness, Captain Howard called his officers, the men of Boston, Mr. Nicholas and Mr. Prescott, to the aft deck, and by his side stood his man Abraham. The course had been set, the Goodman and the Essex would patrol the George's Bank in the Fall in hopes of finding a French fleet daring to make a crossing of the north Atlantic.
Mr. Howard, drew a deep breathe, the cool autumn air of New England filled his lungs. He said a quite prayer to the Lord of Hosts, to bless the voyage and to grant him strength to face the challenge of his first command. As the officers of the Goodman, stood silently in the early hours, the sound of silence filled their ears as Boston lay still in slumber. On more deep breathe, on more quiet prayer, one more hard exhale, then turning to Abraham, Captain Howard gave his first command of the voyage.
"Abarham, sound the bell, wake the crew and call to quarters!"
The crew of the Goodman rushed forth from the decks below at the sounding of the bell, of the call to quarters and of the order to prepare to make way. These were men of Boston and the men of Poquson, sailors tried and tested, within a instant manned the rigging, gathered the halyards and prepared to weigh anchor. When all was prepared and made ready, a dead silence fell upon the deck of the Goodman, awaiting final orders from the Captain.
"Weigh anchor!" cried Captain Howard.
The silence broke with the heavy grunt of men, pushing hard upon the anchor winch. The sound of the chains rattling filled the air as the anchor was lifted from the bottom of the harbor.
"Abraham, sing to the lines!"
Abraham, stood forward, though he was generally a quite man, his voice boomed forth in a familiar tune, a shanty that all the sailors knew.
"We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails
We'd be alright if the wind be in ours sails
We'd be alright if the wind be in our sails
And we will all hang on behind her!"
The sound of 50 men singing the chorus and pulling hard upon the lines in rythme to the tune filled the air of Boston harbor.
"And we'll roll the old chariot along!
And we'll roll the old chariot along!
And we'll roll the old chariot along!
And we will all hang on behind her!"
The sound of the men singing in perfect harmony, filled Kevin's ears, bringing a smile upon his face as he stood aboard the Essex along side Captain Lewis, who turned to him and said:
"Kevin, sound the bell, wake the crew, for we set sail this day."
At the sound of the ship's bell the crew of the Essex made double time racing to the decks. The sound of the men of the Goodman singing a familiar tune greeted the crew of the Essex, who knew the hour had come. The Goodman had made her way ever closer to the Essex, fully under way with her sails made full by the soft Boston breeze. The men of the Goodman lined the decks, in salute to their comrades aboard the Essex, who remained still awaiting the Captain's orders. As the Goodman, passed along side the Essex, Captain Lewis cried out:
"Weigh anchor!"
"Mr. Hagney, prove yourself worthy to call yourself an Irishman, and sing to the lines!"
Mr. Hagney waited but a few seconds, waiting to sing in perfect unison with Abraham. Finally, in his wonderful tenor voice, Mr. Hagney sang the opening verse of the ancient tune:
"We'd be alright if the wind be in our sails!
We'd be alright if the wind be in our sails! . . ."
By a song did the Essex come to life. Her mainsails unfurled catching the wind, her foresails raised and her anchor stowed, she began to glide across the calm waters of the harbor, leaving Boston for the George's Bank on a mission of great folly or of great promise.
By the fourth day the ships had made their way to the George's Bank and yet no sight of any French fleet. But as the sun set on the fourth day, a cry was heard from the crow's nest of the Goodman.
"Sail ho!"
The the sighting had been made, a large number of French merchantmen, in a long line escorted by several brigantines and two second rate ships of the line. The French had been found, Captain Lewis had been correct, the French had dared to make of Fall crossing of the North Atlantic. The first phase of Captain Lewis grand adventure and gamble had proven successful and yet still no plunder had been made. The French ignored the two English ships, for it was felt that two English ships would never pose a threat to such a vast array of French naval power. The French were of course correct, the Goodman and the Essex were no match of the French navy escorts. The only question remaining was whether the French fleet would be a match for the North Atlantic.
The following day the The Goodman and the Essex trailed the French fleet just over the horizon, never venturing too close and yet never straying too far.
The south winds that had filled the sails suddenly died out and the seas became eerily calm. Captain Lewis felt dismayed, for his plan to work he need a storm to break up the French fleet or there would be no plunder and it would be a hard winter for him and his men. As he stood upon the decks looking with displeasure at his empty sails, Mr. Holmes approached.
"Tis the way of the Banks. Tis time sir to secure the cannons and get the men below."
"Whatever for, the seas are calm and there is no wind in our sails."
"When the south wind dies, a wind from the nor'east shall rise. Set the lifelines, furl the mainsails, and get the men below, Captain, tis the way of the banks. Only yer best men shall venture upon these decks, for when the nor'east blows the sea shall rage for days on end. Be of good cheer Captain, ye shall have yer storm, and the Banks shall test the French and us alike."
Captain Lewis had a singular talent of knowing the sort of men he needed, and always deferred to the right man at the right time. He immediately ordered the mainsails to be furled, the cannons secured, hatches battened down tight and three days rations to be prepared.
Captain Howard observed the prepperations being made aboard the Essex and called his officers together. The men of Boston, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Nicholas, simply reported to Captain Howard:
"Make ready Captain Howard, for a storm cometh."
The day drew long as the Essex set still in the calm waters, prepared for a storm that had yet to arrive. Captain Lewis stood with Mr. Holmes by his side, on a clear calm day, wondering to himself what did this man know? He knows these waters. And if he says there is a storm coming on a clear day than to be sure the storm shall rise. Mr. Holmes spoke not a word, but kept his eyes fixed upon the sails, looking for a sign, an unseen sign, a sign he knew all too well.
"There sir! The wind she has shifted, a nor'easter for sure. Head into the wind and keep her bow to the waves."
The sky suddenly turned black and the winds began to blow hard as the Essex headed into the wind. Whitecaps began to form upon the crest of the waves. At first mere five to ten foot waves that the Essex rode easily to the crest and then down the backside. As the last glimpse of the sun fell behind the clouds the waves grew ever larger, twenty footers at least remarked Mr. Holmes.
"We are in her now Captain, shall be a nasty time on the Banks this day, and may God have mercy upon us."
Each successive wave came upon the Essex as a towering mountain of water at first much higher than her prow and then mounting as high as her foresails. During the night watch only Captain Lewis and Mr. Hagney remained on deck, lashed to the ship's wheel, struggling to keep her bow towards the waves as the winds howled through the rigging.
Walls of water crashed down upon the decks of the Essex, pouring into the decks below, forcing the crew to man the bilge pumps in a desperate fight against the sea. Every man took his turn at the pumps, day after long day, as the storm raged on. Even Kevin had manned the pumps, though not taking as long of a shift, for his small arms soon gave out under the heavy burden.
The storm tested the hearts of the crew, every man dreaded his turn above decks. Before the changing of the watch, the sailors would huddle together in prayer. Prayers that were never spoken in fair weather, but fervently recited in the midst of the tempest. For three days the storm raged, for three days the men manned the bilge pump and for three days the prayers of desperate men breached the very gates of heaven.
Mr. Holmes had taken his turn at the wheel along with Mr. Marshall. At one point, the fury of the waves almost broke Mr. Marshall, as the walls of water crashed down upon the Essex. With each new wave, he would scream with all his might in defiance of the fury of the North Atlantic and then mock ocean for not taking his life with curses and the laughter of a man upon the brink of insanity.
The winds quieted as quickly as they arose, upon the dawn of the third day. Once again, a south wind blew. Once again, the crew of the Essex unfurled the mainsails and once again the Essex made good speed in pursuit of the French.
Captain Lewis desperately scanned the horizon for the Goodman. For he knew how sorely the storm had tested himself, he could only hope that Mr. Howard had passed his own test. What great relief it was to him when the cry came for the crow's nest of "sail ho!". The Goodman with all her sails filled by the south wind, riding high upon the waters making her way toward the Essex had been spotted. Mr. Howard had passed his test.
Even greater delight came to Captain Lewis as the repeated calls came from the crow's nest "ship ho!"
Three French ships lay dead in the water, with masts broken and sails torn asunder, broken and torn by the storm, a storm of good fortune for the men of the Essex and of the Goodman.
More good fortune, for as the Essex bore down upon her French prey, there was no sign of the French navy. The pickings would be easy, the plunder won perhaps without a shot being fired.
"Beat to quarters!"
The crews of the Essex and of the Goodman rolled out their cannons, prepared for a fight, prepared for plunder, prepared to fill their pockets with French gold and silver. The French were in no mood to fight, for those who had survived the storm upon the George's Banks, would not risk their lives this day for a rich man's cargo.
The storm had struck fast and had caught them completely unawares. Many a man had been washed overboard by the walls of water, these towering mountains that crashed upon their decks. Among the survivors none had ere seen such fury before, and each man swore to himself that he would never see such a storm again. The sight of the English ships was not a sore one for their shocked and desperate eyes. Nay, to these Frenchmen it would not be a surrender to the English but rather a rescue from the English.
Of the three French vessels seized that day, only one was fit to be taken as a prize ship for the storm had so thoroughly thrashed the decking and the masts of the other two there could be no repair.
The prize ship was full of furs from Acadia. Mr. Marshall, having recovered from his anger at the waves and his brief but understandable dance with insanity, was given command.
The Goodman pulled along side of one of the merchantmen and began the transfer her cargo, spices from the Caribbean. As the Essex, began to offload the cargo from the third ship, the men of the crew were delighted at the sight of the finest furs from Acadia which led Mr. Hagney to begin to sing a song which the whole crew joined in victorious harmony:
"We'd be alright with French furs in the hold!
We'd be alright with French furs in the hold!
We'd be alright with French furs in the Hold!
And we'll all hang on behind her!"
Captain Lewis drank it all in with his eyes. His ears reveled to the sound of his crew singing a song of victory, victory over the French and more importantly victory over the George's Banks. He had gambled everything, his fortune, his life and the lives of every soul aboard the Essex and the Goodman and he had won!