Art:AADM/Second round/Fearless

The Short
= The Entry =

November 1st
We arrived at Jorvik at five in the aft noon. We ported three hours later than scheduled because the waters off Jorvik Harbour were infested with sloops and Lt. Roskill was compelled to exercise extreme care piloting the vessel into harbour. Apparently, some kind of civilian regatta was being held in the waters off Jorvik. I expect to be in port three clear days for restocking and left Lt. Cmd. Denning to organize in an equitable manner shore leave for the men.

November 2nd
Restocking was interrupted by a general call for aid. Harbour Authorities requested assistance in the search and rescue of a woman reported to have fallen overboard on the final day of the Jorvik Husband and Wife Sloop Race. Rumour has it that the woman was cast overboard by her husband in a final effort to gain a small advantage heading towards the finishing line. Lt. Harman reported harbourside gossip that the husband was the first to cross the finish line, but he was eventually disqualified because the wife was not on board the vessel when it crossed the line. The antics of civilian sailors never cease to amuse me. Attempts by the husband later to locate the wife were apparently futile. Lt. Harman further reported that the sloop bore the name Lonely Alewife. Somebody does indeed have a wicked sense of humour.

We deported just after two in the aft noon with Lt. Cmd. Denning, Lt. Harman, Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill and seven men to join the search. I saw little purpose in interrupting shore leave for the rest of the lads. We returned to port past seven without success. I pray it has not turned into a tragedy.

November 3rd
We did not put out to sea today. Harbour Authorities called off the search and rescue. It seemed that the Lonely Alewife vanished sometime in the middle of the night. Harbour Authorities believed that the husband probably found the wife and decided to avoid embarrassment, and possibly a hefty bill for services rendered in the search and rescue, by sailing home silently. Personally, I think the Harbour Authorities cannot care less now that there is nobody around to make a ruckus. Just as well. We may continue restocking.

November 5th
Re-stocking was completed with 200 barrels of fine rum and 200 shots. I received sealed orders from the Admiralty that brigand vessels had been sighted between Jorvik and Turtle disguised as merchantmen. Our orders were to search, intercept, apprehend and bring to justice the brigands, with the use of all necessary force.

We will set sail at daybreak tomorrow with the tide.

November 6th
I received further sealed orders from the Admiralty at one past midnight. I am not authorized to disclose the nature of these orders in this log. Admiralty authorized stocking of a further 100 shots, the loading of which were completed within two hours with the aid of extra hands.

We put out to sea with the tide at six in the morn with six officers: Lt. Cmd. Denning, Lt. Harman, Lt. Roskill, Ens. Diplock, Dr. Megarry and myself, and thirty seamen. Lt. Roskill had the helm. We set course south-east for Turtle Island. Wind conditions were moderate and visibility was good.

A cannon broke forth from its tethers as we tacked into the wind and crushed Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill's foot. Ens. Diplock was tasked to investigate the cause of the accident. He reported that the rope was worn and had snapped as the vessel banked. The men believed this to be bad luck as we had barely made our way out of the harbour. Lt. Cmd. Denning was able to convince them that it was only an accident.

Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill fell into a feverish coma in the course of the night. Dr. Megarry reported that he might have to amputate. With my most senior non-commissioned officer out of action, discipline might possibly become a problem.

November 7th
Able Seaman Ryland spotted debris from the crow's nest just after dawn. From the looks of it, it would likely have come from a sloop or some such small vessel. Additional men were posted to find survivors.

Dr. Megarry reported at noon that he had no choice but to amputate Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill's foot. The fever had not subsided but Dr. Megarry remained hopeful. I can only pray that Dr. Megarry is correct.

An unseasonal fog descended on us at about three in the aft noon. Visibility was reduced to one hundred feet, making it extremely difficult to spot any survivor in the water unless we were practically on top of him. Seaman Stevenson recovered a piece of debris that indicated that the stricken vessel likely bore the name Lonely Alewife.

Able Seaman Ryland spotted a survivor clinging on to a barrel just before dusk. We were able to rescue him from the clutches of the sea. Efforts to find out what happened to his vessel were fruitless as the man was delirious. He just kept repeating the word or name "Rose". I left him in the care of Dr. Megarry.

If the Harbour Authorities back at Jorvik were correct, it would seem that this would be the same Lonely Alewife that created such a commotion at Jorvik. Lt. Harman reported that the husband and wife on the Lonely Alewife were one Dan and Rose Donoghue. At this juncture, it is pure guesswork whether misfortune befell them after Donoghue rescued his wife or whether he never did locate his wife. I ordered the men to continue to look out for survivors in the event of the former.

Throughout the night, some of the men reported hearing faint cries from somewhere distant in the fog. They could not tell when pressed whether the voices were male or female. I myself could not hear anything and neither could Lt. Cmd. Denning, Lt. Harman or any of the officers.

November 8th
We continue to be enveloped by fog throughout the day.

No more debris could be sighted by mid-day. It is likely we have gone past the locality where the Lonely Alewife met her demise. No other survivor was recovered. I held a short session to pray for those who were lost.

Dr. Megarry reported that Donoghue continued to drift in and out of consciousness. In his semi-conscious state, he occasionally shouted for Rose. At Dr. Megarry's recommendation, I posted a seaman to watch over Donoghue to make sure that he does not do anything to bring harm to himself or anyone else in his state of delirium.

Dr. Megarry also reported that Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill appeared to be mumbling something too in his state of unconsciousness. Dr. Megarry could not be sure what Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill was saying. He said that it sounded like, "Woe, turn back". I concur with his interpretation but I ordered Dr. Megarry to keep this to himself. The last thing I need is for the incoherent ramblings of an unconscious man to sow superstitious seeds of doubt amongst the men. At this juncture, only Dr. Megarry, Lt. Cmd. Denning and I know of this. It would be best to keep it that way. Dr. Megarry volunteered that if anybody were to hear Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill, he would tell him that Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill was dreaming about riding a horse and calling out, "Whoa!" I did not think that it would be particularly persuasive, but we had no better alternative.

The fog thickened by night. Visibility was reduced to thirty feet.

Some of the men reported that they continued to hear faint cries in the distant. Lt. Cmd. Denning told them that it was their imagination stoked by the excitement of rescuing a survivor from the sea the previous day. I do not think they were wholly convinced.

November 9th
Three days out from Jorvik and we continue to be blanketed by thick fog. I have never in my life seen such persistent fog so far out at sea. It seemed as if the sky had fallen and covered up the sun and the moon. I swear if a brigand were to side up against us, we will not know about it until their cannonballs land on our deck.

Lt. Roskill was compelled to navigate with the use of only the compass and his charts. Until the fog clears and we are able to see the stars again to use the sextant, we will not be able to be determine our location absolutely.

Doctor Quicy reported that Donoghue was recovering from exposure and appeared to be gaining strength. However, recovery was limited to his physical body. He remained delirious and had not said anything other than calling for Rose.

The wind dropped shortly after mid-day. We are now barely crawling through the water.

After nightfall, more men reported hearing distant cries in the fog. They were beginning to affect by talk amongst themselves even those who had not previously heard anything. The men were getting restless. Happening so early in the voyage, this does not bode well. I fear that if this continues, it will not be possible for the officers to keep up morale or discipline. I authorized an extra ration of rum for each man until we are free of the fog.

November 10th
Four days out from Jorvik and the fog shows no sign of lifting. Winds remain sluggish. We are simply not moving.

I ordered Ens. Diplock to conduct gunning and swordfighting drills to keep the men busy and their minds off this confounded fog that appears to be choking the wind out of our sails.

Lt. Harman reported that two barrels of fine rum had mysteriously turned brackish. Neither I nor any of the officers had ever encountered this phenomenon before. Lt. Harman could not prevent word of this from spreading amongst the crew as one of the barrels had been opened and rationed out before he discovered this. I did not need to hear it for myself to know that mutterings of discontent are spreading amongst the crew.

November 11th
The winds have completely died, and yet we remain shrouded in this unholy fog. We are now well and truly becalmed.

Two more barrels of fine rum turned brackish. Fortunately, the crew did not know about this latter incident because Lt. Harman had taken the initiative to taste the rum in each barrel before rationing them out. However, if this were to continue, I fear we will run out of rum well before we reach our objective.

I ordered that Donoghue be locked up in the brig for his own protection. Lt. Harman, who has always been close to the men, reported that there were murmurs amongst them that the vessel was cursed and Donoghue was the cause. It did not help that Donoghue was still in no state of mind to tell us what happened to his vessel.

I can only pray that the winds pick up or the fog lifts within the next day or two. If it does not, it is likely that the men may turn violent towards Donoghue or even the officers if we were to prevent them from exacting violence on Donoghue. In the meantime, I ordered Lt. Cmd. Denning to equip each officer with sidearms.

November 12th
Still no luck with either the fog or the winds. The temperature had dropped as a result of so many hours without sun. It now feels like we are in the depths of winter.

Another three barrels of rum turned brackish.

Able Seaman Ryland fell overboard from the fore crow's nest. Despite our best efforts, we were not able to recover him and he was lost to the sea. Those who were on duty and had witnessed the incident said that Able Seaman Ryland simply fell out of the crow's nest into the sea without so much as a cry. It was as if he was struck dead before he fell. No man would now climb up to the fore crow's nest. We had to make do with only the aft crow's nest.

The mood amongst the men had turned decidedly evil. Dr. Megarry reported that the men were hissing to him, "Woe, turn back!"

I ordered all arms, with the sole exclusion of those issued to officers, to be secured and locked up. I also ordered that there were to be at least three officers on duty at any time.

Turning the vessel around and heading back to Jorvik was not an option, but even if I would I could not because we remain dead in the water. Duty and honour. This is what will keep men sane in times like these. I have my orders and I will see them through to the end.

Duty and Honour.

November 13th
Ens. Diplock was compelled to draw his sword against two men who had attempted to force their way into the brig. I formally record here my commendation of Ens. Diplock for his steadfast and firm handling of the situation.

The two culprits, Able Seaman Hughes and Able Seaman Forbes, were given twenty lashes and confined to the brig. Rum rations were cut by half to signify to the men that I will not suffer such lapse in discipline onboard this vessel. If the truth be known, I would have been compelled to reduce rum rations in any event because another three barrels of rum turned brackish.

Since the brig now has other occupants, Donoghue was removed to my quarters, the door to which was locked under the armed guard of an officer.

Lt. Roskill reported in the night that he thought he could hear the distant cries too. I asked Lt. Cmd. Denning, who claimed he could not hear anything. I am no longer certain whether that was the truth or whether he was merely saying what he thought I wanted to hear. I myself have some doubts whether there were not any voices in the fog.

November 14th
Pet. Off. Fletcher fell overboard from the aft crow's nest today and was claimed by the sea. This happened in a manner identical to the way Able Seaman Ryland had fallen overboard. Now, no man would climb up to either crow's nest. I could not suffer the vessel to be blind, especially in this fog, but I could not risk a mutiny on my hands either. The onus is now on Lt. Cmd. Denning and I to take turns to ascend to the crow's nest. Lt. Cmd. Denning, as usual, was up to the task. I do not think it will be long before he is ready to assume command of his own ship. I shall miss him sorely when he does.

Three more barrels of rum turned brackish.

Lt. Harman, Lt. Roskill and Ens. Diplock volunteered in the evening to take over as lookouts from Lt. Cmd. Denning and I. Dr. Megarry volunteered to be placed on the roster too, but as the third most senior officer on the vessel, I had more pressing duties for him. He had to keep up the physical and mental health of the men, which I fear is fast failing. This is truly the finest group of officers I have the privilege of sailing with.

November 15th
We continue to be plagued by this ungodly fog. Frost had started to form on the railings from the cold.

Four barrels of rum turned brackish.

Young Apprentice Seaman Mills died in his sleep. Dr. Megarry reported that the lad's heart had simply stopped. It was not usual for a young man's heart to give up silently just like that, but according to the good doctor such occurrences are not unknown to modern medicine.

There is great fear and suspicion amongst the crew.

November 16th
Lt. Harman reported in the morning that Donoghue had vanished in the night during his turn of duty. Lt. Harman could not explain how Donoghue could have escaped, but the port hole was discovered open. I caused a thorough search from bow to stern, but Donoghue could not be found. I surmise that he probably climbed out of the port hole and lept overboard.

It shames me to say that I feel more relieved that Donoghue could not be located. I have no place in my mind for such malicious superstitions, but what plays in the minds of men at sea often has more dire consequences than what stands for fact.

November 17th
Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill awoke from his coma this morning. It was the best news we had since we left Jorvik. The news was doubly good because Cf. Pet. Off. Carlill was able to calm the men even in his weakened state by repeating Dr. Megarry's fib about riding a horse. Even as he uttered to the crew a threat to get out of his bunk on his one good foot, he confided in me that he did not remember a single thing since the accident.

The winds started to rise after sunset. I ordered Lt. Roskill to resume our course with full sails. We have already suffered some nine days of delay. With a little good fortune, we may still be able to recover some of the lost time.

No barrel of rum turned brackish today.

November 18th
The fog finally thinned in the early hours of the morning. We still cannot see the stars but visibility has increased to almost one mile. The morale amongst the men had turned decidedly for the better.

Ens. Diplock spotted a merchantman off our stern at mid-day. She was barely within the limits of visibility.

The fog had cleared completely by nightfall. The men volunteered to resume look-out duties from the officers. I ordered an extra ration of rum to be distributed to each man.

November 19th
Lookout reported at dawn that the merchantman was still about a mile off our stern despite the fact that we had been on full sails throughout the night. It seems to me that she might be following us. No ordinary merchantman can catch the wind with such haste. I believe that she is actually a brigand.

The men appear to be raring for some action and a prize after all the wretched time we spent in the fog. We may yet be able to accomplish our mission after all.

I am ordering the vessel to turn about.

"So, what do you think, Tom?" Lieutenant Commander Coke quizzed as he watched young Lieutenant Blackstone close the calf-skin covers of the ship's log.

"If you ask me sir, I think they chucked the poor fellow overboard, not that their Captain would admit it by recording such a thing in the log."

"I would probably have ejected him too if I were in their Captain's shoes." Coke gave a wry smile as he took the log from Blackstone and placed it on the table.

"That would have made you most popular, sir."

"Aye, I imagine it would. But, seriously speaking," Coke tapped his fingers on the log, "this still does not tell us what happened, and the last entry is dated almost a month ago."

The Fearless was a fully armed frigate and one of the finest in the navy. Still, this was not what Coke had in mind for his first command. For one thing, Coke had but a skeleton crew of two officers, including himself, and six men. For another, he was only given command of the Fearless by his captain after they found her adrift in the middle of the sea with not a single soul onboard. Coke was the First Mate on the fine frigate Dauntless. They were on a secret mission to rendevous with the Fearless and thereafter to hunt down and destroy the Brigand King known as the Widow Queen who had been sighted in these waters.

The Fearless missed the rendevous. They found her three weeks later with no hand on deck a hundred miles from where she was supposed to be. The ship bore no sign of battle. The decks were spotless. The cannons were as clean as whistles. The cannon balls were stacked neatly and the sidearms were still gleaming in their racks. It seemed as if the crew had simply vanished into thin air. Now, the duty fell on Coke to take her back to port.

"Do we have the ship's manifest?" Coke asked.

"Aye, sir."

"How many cannon balls was she carrying when she left Jorvik?"

Blackstone retrieved the manifest from a cupboard in the captain's quarters. Blackstone ran his fore finger down the last written page. "Four hundred rounds, sir. There were a hundred on board and they loaded another three hundred at Jorvik."

"How many were there when we found her?"

"Exactly four hundred, sir."

"Not a single round fired." Coke murmured to himself.

"No..."

Blackstone was interrupted by a petty officer. "Sir! I think you better have a look at this. We have debris in the water."

Coke followed the petty officer out of the captain's quarters with Blackstone trailing behind. He was greeted by a chilly fog the moment he stepped onto the main deck. "Where did this come from?" he asked the petty officer.

"No idea, sir. Rolled up on us out of the blue like a woollen blanket."

Coke peered towards the direction of where the Dauntless had been. If she was still out there, she was completely obscured.

"We have a survivor!" One of the seamen shouted from near the bow. Coke and Blackstone ran towards the voice. They were just in time to see a limp body being pulled up unto the railings. The skin on the body was a sickly grey from exposure to sea-water, but a faint cloud emerged from the man's mouth as they dragged him over and placed him gingerly on the deck. He was definitely still alive.

Coke craned his neck over the railings towards where the man had been when he was fished out. Coke did not know what made him do that. Pieces of flotsam and shattered planks floated by. A particular one caught his eye.

"You cannot be serious!" Coke muttered under his breath. Emblazoned in polished brass on the piece of wood were the letters "...NELY ALEWI..."