Zealand

24. Zealand

Mister Pett motioned toward his office door. "We can board and examine Zealand now, but Delfe is being pulled into the dock."

"To repair? I thought you were not, sir."

"Nay, Captain, we are not. Her hull is holed by cannon shot, and we had thought those interested could better assess her condition while on the dry."

"Wise. Is her hull otherwise sound? Her bottom? Leaks?"

"Bilges dry as dust. The holing is above her gundeck, and rainwater sluices out through the scuppers.[1] Both ships were launched in 1665, so nearly new when captured. Not yet sea-tired."

I listened to their intercourse[2] as we left the building and walked across the yard, and all the while, I wondered what would come of me if Captain went to sea. He had said fourteen was the youngest. Still twelve – my thirteenth next month. Might I lie to him? Who but me would know? Besides, he said I was near my changes, and that's at fourteen or more.

Then as we approached Zealand, I wondered at all the lines. Dozens upon dozens of them. How would I ever learn them all? Their names? Their purpose?

"She appears more as a merchantman than a ship-of-the-line," Captain said. "Though, all the gun ports confuse."

"Aye, it seems they pressed an East-Indiaman hull into service when hostilities began. Converted some of her cargo space to a full gun deck. Forty-two twenty-four-pounders."[3]

"Twenty-fours!" Captain snapped his head toward Mister Pett. "Surely not."

"Indeed, yes. Five-and-a-half-inch bores. An innocent-looking ship, armed as a first-rate but for the number of guns."

None of this made sense to me, but I saw Captain's interest continue to grow.

"She would make a fine privateer to fight the Dutch."

"This is the Duke's wish. He will offer a letter of marque[4] to the purchaser."

Captain nodded. "And crew? All the sailors he has caused to be discharged. Would I have access to the best among those?"

"I am to meet with Mister Pepys on the morrow's forenoon, and I can ask him."

"Who is Mister Pepys?"

"The Secretary to the Admiralty. The man who guides many of the Duke's decisions." Pett laughed. "From what I see, Pepys makes most of the decisions."

"And allows the glory to fall on the Prince."[5]

"Aye. But to the ship." He pointed aloft. "The collapse of the fore topmast and gallant and their yards caused major damage to the forecastle, and there is also breakage along the bulwarks, the hold coamings and the hatch covers."

So many new names to learn. But will he even want me?

Captain and Mister Pett continued talking in this obscure manner, and I followed them as they boarded. I marvelled at the size of the shrouds, if what holds the masts up are called the same here as in Bessy. Nearly the thickness of my wrists. Everything is so much bigger. And I feel so small among it.

We descended some stairs, a ladder,[6] Mister Pett called them. At the bottom was a long line of guns, like in the engraving in one of Captain's books, and they sat on carriages, like the ones for his wine and ale casks.

They continued to talk with many unknown words as we went from one place to another, up and down stairs – ladders, I should use – and I had no idea where we were until we emerged back onto the deck.

Mister Pett led us aft – I knew that word – and as he opened a carved door, he said, "This is the finest great cabin ever I have seen. Finer even than I had built in Loyal London or Father had fashioned in Prince Royal – what great shock when the Dutch took her."[7]

"Aye, a huge loss."

I knew the term great cabin from what Captain had said that first day when he took me home. But the sense of what else Mister Pett said was lost to me. Then as I entered, I marvelled at the grandeur, the rich, reddish gloss of the wall panelling, the huge expanse of windows. A far larger room than our home. And brighter. And doors leading to other rooms.

Captain bobbed his head as he walked about, then he said, "This is much like the one in Gelderland."

"Gelderland?" Mister Pett asked.

"A Dutch prize we took in the Caribbean." Captain pointed toward the doors along one side. "Behind one of those will likely be a bath."

"Aye, so it is. And behind another is a privy."

"When is the auction?"

"The Prince has yet to decide." He chuckled. "Rather, I should say, Mister Pepys has not yet advised him."

"Might I discuss with you some matters to present to Mister Pepys when you meet with him?"

Mister Pett pursed his lips and nodded. "We can sit in my office when we finish here, though not for long. I have matters fiscal to prepare for the morrow in Whitehall."

After more talking and examining, he led us up a set of stairs that twisted like Captain's ringlets, and we emerged through a hatch into the sunlight.

A huge wheel stood there, and from all the stories, I recognized it as the helm. And this would be the quarterdeck. The place where captains captain.

I walked across the deck to the wheel, and as I placed my hands on its spokes, Captain asked, "What think ye, lad? Shall we purchase her and head off adventuring?"

We? Did he say we? "If you will have me, sir."

"I would not do this without you, lad."

Notes: 
[1] Scuppers are holes through the hull at deck level to allow water to flow out.
[2] The word for conversation at this time was intercourse, and it didn't get its sexual meaning until the late 1700s.
[3] Guns were rated by the weight of the largest iron ball they could shoot, here twenty-four pounds, so the bore would be five and a half inches in diameter.
[4] A letter of marque was a government license that authorized a private person, known as a privateer or corsair, to attack and capture vessels of a nation at war with the issuer. 
[5] This is Prince James, the Duke of York, the King's brother and the heir to the throne. He was at this time the head of the Navy, and he is variously referred to as the Duke and the Prince.
[6] Stairs aboard ships are called ladders. 
[7] Prince Royal was the Navy's largest and most powerful ship, and she had been captured by the Dutch the previous summer.

Author's Note

The story to this point was my entry in the 2021 Open Novella Contest, where it made it to the Shortlist. But there is much more, and my intention is to take the story onward to 1676 when Camille arrives aboard Zeelandia, seeking a position as the captain's cabin boy.

In the meantime, if you haven't read 'Zeelandia',
this might be a good time to do that. 

The External Link below will take you directly to it.