Zealand

46. Finally, at Sea

While Captain and the two officers discussed the channels ahead, eight bells sounded, and Mister Courtenay said, "I have the afternoon, sir. May I descend to relieve Mister Angus?"

"Please. And since none of us has eaten, bid him for me to have Cookery Mate bade[1] prepare ham and cheese bread[2] for the five of us. You may eat yours while on watch, and Mister Angus will arrange to have his and ours brought up here. Oh, and skins of water – we might need to remain here for another three hours or more."

"Aye, sir." Mister Courtenay chuckled. "Dinner aloft for four."

I sighed my contentment with being included. And with how easily we all shared our observations and thoughts. And with how clear now my understanding was of the way Captain's orders were passed on. They had always stopped at me, but now, there are more layers – ranks, he calls them – and each aboard has their place.

But such a simple place I have – none below me and none but Captain above. Does anyone but him give me orders? I think not – unless bade by him to do so. I'm the lowest but also next to the highest, though even with that, no authority.

Enough! I returned my attention to the waters ahead, and a goodly while after Mister Courtenay had disappeared down through the hole, Captain leant forward from sitting against the mast and pointed off the starboard bow. "Examine the reach ahead that grows to starboard. See how it connects to the broader one beyond, and then to a long one beyond that? Might it be better to follow it than remain in this one?"

"The ebb flows strong through it," Mister Peters replied. "This shows it has an unrestricted exit."

"And it is dark and narrow all along," I added. "Not light and broad like the last one with a goodly flow."

"Aye, my thoughts, as well. We shall follow it."

In this manner, we wended our way among the shoals, and not long past four bells, Captain stood and pointed. "There now, the spires of the church at Reculver. We are near three-fourths of the way through, and we should soon raise[3] the escarpments of North Foreland."

"Do you not use charts, sir? They were essential to our navigation in the Navy."

"Aye, Mister Angus, essential they are. When they are accurate depictions, they direct us in what to look for and where. But in this area, with the constant shifting of the shoals and the paucity of reference points, a chart would only mislead. Here, our fresh eyes are infinitely better than stale ink on paper."

Captain swept an arm back and forth across the area. "This affords superb practice for the waters we will encounter in the Caribbean, where there are few charts. And those charts that exist are poorly rendered, and more often than not, dangerous to trust. This is another reason I have suffered us all to remain here on the top when one is all that is required to do the task."

"A daunting task for one with no experience of it."

"Indeed, Mister Peters. Thus, the need to be up here to gain that experience and to learn how to interpret what the waters tell us. And because of the need to make decisions and to offer advice that affects the ship's safety, this is a task for an experienced officer."

As I pondered these words, my appreciation grew for the burden an officer carries. And for the trust Captain must have to give over control of Zealand to them. And give command of Delfe to Captain Gilbert. But, back to reading the waters. I need to learn.

Over the next long while, the spires of the church grew, and the other buildings of the village appeared with it as Reculver moved along Zealand's starboard side. A line of white rose above the horizon, and Captain called it the escarpments of the north headlands. The waters ahead were now less fouled with shoals, making it easier to find safe passage.

A few minutes later, when five bells pealed, Captain said, "By the clock, the tide should have turned to flood, and with Margate now broad the bow, we are beyond the dangers of the estuary, and we are truly at sea. Well done, all. We shall descend."

Notes:
[1] The convoluted language is Captain's way of ensuring the chain of command is both understood and followed. During my naval officer training in the 1960s, we did similar things to reinforce understanding.
[2] Although this form of food was known much earlier, the word sandwich didn't enter the language until 1761, named after a manner of eating favoured by the Earl of Sandwich while he gambled.
[3] To raise in this sense is to have a ship's sails or a piece of land emerge above the horizon.