An Awkward Commission by David Donachie

was set up to sign for regular service, Gibraltar and back, with the government. I was also lucky, as you were not, never to be taken out of a ship or ashore in a time of war, and so never suffered the indignity of being a pressed seaman.’
    ‘Indignity describes it, Captain McGann, though it gives me no pleasure to say I have known worse.’ Responding to the enquiring look, Pearce said, ‘In time, sir, we will be in each others’ company long enough for me to tell you all.’
    ‘Have it as you will. I will not press you.’
    The pun on the word press brought forth another hearty laugh, one so intense that the captain had to ask Pearce to hold the wheel steady while he recovered. With that in his hand, and feeling that the ship had a life through it, Pearce was once more reminded of the sham of his commission, and the haunting fear that once in the Mediterranean, he might be offered a place aboard a ship which he might have to accept just to stay on the station.
    ‘I may press you, sir, for as I have already told you, my ignorance of the sea is great.’
    ‘A capital play on the word, sir,’ exclaimed McGann, heaving once more, and wheezing as he sought air. ‘Capital indeed.’
    ‘But true.’
    ‘You wish to know more?’
    ‘It matters not what I wish, it is more what I need.’
    Short by a head though he was, McGann nevertheless managed to get an arm around Pearce’s shoulder. ‘Then this, sir, shall be your school for the time you are aboard, and I take leave to say you could find none finer, for there is not a hand serving on this vessel that would not be pleased to instruct, as am I. But, recall this, if you want to stay off the deck and out of wind, water and cold, that is your privilege.’
    Pearce hardly hesitated a second. ‘I would be happy to be your pupil, sir.’
    ‘Then I too am happy. I ain’t never taught a man ’owt, but that I have learnt something in return, sir. I look forward to having you on my deck, but just as much I anticipate with pleasure the conversation we will have when we are below.’
     
    Lorne was constructed for speed through the water. She was of narrow build, carrying as few stores as possible, no cargo and damn stability, for the contract McGann had was not one to allow him much in the way of double ventures. His task was to get the mails to Gibraltar and back as speedily as possible, avoiding any attempt to intercept them now the nation was again at war with France.
    ‘Twelve days is around the norm for the passage, though I have had it take twice that time in the winter months. Made it in under five days, one trip. Never known such a wind oblige for the whole journey. Blew hard and consistent from the north-east to push us down the Channel, then swung round to a fine, strong north-westerly off the Lizard so that the lee rail was never clear of the sea all the way south, with every man jack up from below to take pleasure in flying. Fourteen knots was our best cast of the log. Fourteen knots, Mr Pearce, have you ever heard the like!’
    According to McGann, they were doing very well at the moment under a bright blue sky, a warm late-July sun and an gentle easterly breeze right astern. The log had run off six knots on the last cast, Pearce sure of this for it had been himself in the chains doing the casting, with the man accustomed to the task there to make sure he learnt to do it right and did not risk drowning by too much enthusiasm. Prior to that he had been aloft helping to run out the booms for the skysails, then going out onto those booms to haul the sails aloft, lashing them on and then loosing the ties and letting them fall, bare soles bouncing in the footropes, his shirt billowing out on the breeze, constantly admonished by the man next to him to, ‘Clap on, sir, clap on. Allas keep one hand for the boat.’
    And it had been a pleasure, so different from when he been aloft on either Griffin or Brilliant , different because it was voluntary, the pleasure doubled