Passage to Mutiny by Alexander Kent Page B

Herrick. “Heave to, if you please. Then we will lower the boats.” He touched the sword against his hip. “After that . . .” He shrugged.
    With her canvas flapping noisily, Tempest’ s shadow rode across the moon’s path, while the three boats were swayed out and the seamen and marines scrambled into them.
    Two boats would have been sufficient under normal circumstances, but with the additional hands required to pull them back to the ship, overcrowding would have added a full hour to the operation.
    Bolitho made a last check in his mind. Lieutenant Keen, aged twenty-two, was his second in command. James Ross, master’s mate, a thickset Scot with dark red hair, would add weight and experience to the party. Sergeant Quare and his six sharpshooters, all strangely unrecognizable without their usual scarlet coats, and hugging their long muskets like backwoodsmen. Midshipman Swift and Miller, a boatswain’s mate, completed the authority.
    The bulk of the men had been chosen for their skills, their ability to obey under almost any conditions, and some because they would kill without hesitation if such was the need.
    He took a long breath. “Carry on, Mr Ross.”
    He saw the master’s mate raise his fist and then the cutter began to move away. From the deck it looked crammed with men, oars and weapons. Next Tempest’ s launch, and her largest long-boat, idled clear of the side, oars in momentary confusion until the current swung them away from the ship’s undertow. Bolitho saw Keen, very upright in the sternsheets, his shirt holding the moonlight like a banner. Allday was already in the gig, as were Midshipman Swift and the rest of the last group.
    Bolitho touched Herrick’s arm. “Perhaps when this is done you may have more respect for Captain Cook’s description of the islands.” He smiled grimly. “Take care, Thomas.” Then he lowered himself down the side and jumped out into the gig.
    Allday said, “Shove off! Out oars! Give way all!”
    The gig plunged and rose steeply in the swell, and now they were clear of the ship’s hull Bolitho could hear the hiss and boom of breakers.
    He glanced along the boat at the regular rise and fall of the oars. It was not easy to pull smoothly with the boat filled with arms and legs. He noticed too that his gig’s crew had donned their chequered shirts which they always wore for taking their captain on his normal affairs of duty.
    This was hardly normal, and he was moved to say, “Thank you, lads.” But nobody spoke, and the only sound to match the sea was the steady creak of oars.
    When he looked astern again Tempest was only a tall shadow with the moon’s silver across her flapping topsails.
    As soon as the boats were safely hoisted inboard again she would set every stitch of canvas she could carry to stand clear of the land as fast as possible.
    A shuttered lantern blinked from the leading boat. Ross had sighted the first elbow of rocks. They must follow through one gap and then a second. After that it was no more than a cable to the beach. If it was there.
    â€œWatch your helm, Allday. This is the worst part.”
    He saw the quick exchanges throughout the boat. It was best for everyone to know all the risks and not just some of them, he thought.
    The sea noises changed again, the great surge of water against the outer reef muffled slightly as the three boats forged steadily around the glistening crags of rock. Little waterfalls changed to surging torrents as the tide cascaded over and around the rock barrier, making pools and lakes and just as quickly draining them again.
    The bowman called, “Beach dead ahead, sir!” A pause. “Cutter’s already there!”
    By the time Allday had steered the gig through the last scattering of rocks and lined up the stem with the tiny patch of beach, the cutter was already passing on the return trip.
    The bowman leapt down and almost