The low coastline ahead hardened to a deep blue, then acquired features; dark splotches, pale blurs. There was sail in all directions, converging to the south, a river of commerce, for here was the entrance to the Thames and the port of London.
Renzi sighed heavily, and started pacing the other way. Glorious was not a happy ship: the captain was unimaginative and set in his ways, remote from his men, and the first lieutenant was a bully. The ship's company was a collection of individuals, not a team, and petty tyrannies flourished.
They joined the flow of vessels into the Thames, the master watchful and alert for the lookouts' hail as another buoy was sighted. Then the dark forest of masts that was the Great Nore came into sight, reassuring in its powerful presence at the entrance to the capital.
Signals fluttered up from Glorious's quarterdeck. The mass of fifty-four ships of the Baltic Trade astern were now released and broke into an undignified straggle as they jockeyed for position for the beat up-river to the docks.
cHaaaands to moor ship!'
They closed with the fleet. Saluting guns were loaded, but as Sandwich was not flying her admiral's flag they were not needed. Glorious glided in, her anchors tumbled down to the muddy seabed, her sails were furled and she prepared for storing.
Finished with the veering crew at the hatchway, Renzi regained the deck to find the officer-of-the-watch, but his curiosity was taken by three boats making for Glorious.
A giant union Flag was in one, and from another what sounded like 'Rule Britannia' was being pounded out by a scratch band.
'Hail them, if you please,' ordered Murray, the officer-of-the-watch. Aboard Glorious, sailors crowded to the deck edge, astonished by the display. The lead boat shaped course to come alongside; it was then plain there were no officers aboard.
'Damme an' I know what's afoot, m'lads,' Renzi heard the flabbergasted boatswain say.
'Lay off, the boat!' warned Murray, sensing something wrong. The boat took no notice and hooked on at the main-chains. Seamen nimbly mounted Glorious's side.
'What in God's name—'
The lead seaman, a bulky sailor with cutlass and two pistols, came easily over the bulwarks; another two were not far behind. Murray stalked down from the quarterdeck. 'Did you not hear my order? Why the devil did you—'
Bringing a paper out of his waistcoat, the first seaman announced, 'Sir, I'm commanded by th' president of the delegates of th' whole fleet of His Majesty's navy in the river Medway and the buoy of the Nore ter give you this'n.'
'What nonsense is this?' said Murray aghast.
The captain appeared from below. 'Mr Murray, why are these men in arms?'
The boarders smiled grimly. 'An' as of this minute, Cap'n, you're released fr'm duty. You're desired ter yield up yer ship to th' committee.'
Gobbling with anger, the captain opened his mouth to speak.
'No, sir, we'll take none o' yer pratin'. Take a squiz there.' The seaman indicated Director, lying barely a hundred yards abeam, and Inflexible, fine on the bow. 'These're all risen, they is, every one. An' if I signal, well, there's more'n a hundred guns'll answer.' As if on cue, gunports opened all down the sides of the ships-of-the-line.
At the threat there was little that could be done. The mutineer went to the ship's side and hailed the waiting boats. 'Right, lads, let's get ter work.'
After securing the ship the mutineers set up a committee in the starboard bay, holding court on the unfortunates against whom complaints had been laid. First the officers: most of them were deemed 'unsuitable' and given fifteen minutes to be clear of the ship. One boatswain's mate was taken below in irons to be dealt with later, and a sergeant of marines was given a ducking. Liberty tickets were freely given under the hand of the committee.
Renzi watched the- proceedings with interest, for without doubt it would be talked of for years to come. But then the new-elected delegates called him below, and he was asked to give a statement of position, and abruptly told, 'Fer a foremast jack yer've got a wry way o' talkin', cuffin. I thinks fer y' own sake, better ye're ashore 'n' out of it.'
In the boat on the way to Sheerness, Renzi's eyes lifted as he took in the unmistakable bulk of Achilles. The boat's crew cheered as they passed, and were answered with a full-throated roar from the ship. Renzi wondered if Kydd was aboard, or had been turned ashore, perhaps after an intemperate but loyal outburst. Whatever the case, probably within the day he would be seeing his friend once more.
He glanced at the boat's crew. They were in high spirits and full of what they would do ashore. In their way, these men were as close to the paradigm of Natural Man as it was possible to find: the suborning elements of civilisation were necessarily denied to them — he would never find such stout beliefs and open character in the elegant, blase world that awaited him.