Powder Monkey by Paul Dowswell Read Free Book Online Page A

meant.
    â€˜That’s the signal to go to the mess deck for dinner, lad,’ he said as we trooped up the stairs. ‘I’ve been in this pickle before. Y’ life’s ruled by that bosun’s whistle – breakfast, dinner, hauling yourself up to the yards, weighing the anchor. You obey that whistle just as a soldier obeys a bugle.’
    I spotted Ben seated at a table in the corner and picked my way towards him, avoiding the curious stares of the older seamen.
    â€˜So – you’re to be a powder monkey!’ he said.
    â€˜Why do they call us that?’ I said. It sounded insulting.
    Ben laughed. ‘Don’t get on your high horse, Sam! Monkeys are nimble creatures. That’s what you need to be, so that’s what you ought to become.’
    â€˜And what’s the afterguard?’ I said.
    â€˜The afterguard’s the division that’s stationed on the quarterdeck – y’ know, that bit at the stern where the Captain stands.’
    I realised Ben liked to tease me by pretending I knew nothing about life at sea. He went on, ‘The larboard watch take turns with the starboard watch. Your dutiesthere probably won’t be a great deal different from what you had to do on the
Franklyn
– cleaning the ship, operating the sails and the like.’
    â€˜What about climbing the rigging?’ I asked anxiously.
    â€˜A bit o’ that, for sure. But the topmen do most of that work.’
    I was pleased I would not have to regularly climb the rigging. I felt confident up in the sails of the
Franklyn
, but the masts on the
Miranda
were much higher. I feared the letting down and furling of the sails would be done with a speed that took little account of safety.
    â€˜Your chief duty, though,’ said Ben, ‘is to assist in the firing of the guns.’
    Ben took great pride in his work as a gunner. It was obvious the moment he spoke about it. ‘The British gunner is the best in the world, Sam. That’s why Britannia rules the waves!’ I didn’t doubt it. After all, I’d grown up hearing about the Royal Navy’s famous victories. Ben went on, ‘It’s not the captains, it’s not the ships, it’s us that win the battles. We train and we train, until we can load and fire those guns blindfold – not that we’ve ever tried, mind, but we’ve sometimes had to fight at night. And when we fight we can get our guns to fire one shot a minute. The Frenchies and the Spanish can’t do that to save their lives. We’re twice as fast as they are. And that’s why we’re the best.’
    Before the meal was over I remembered to ask Ben toshow me how to do a Navy salute.
    â€˜You need to salute with your right hand every time you see an officer,’ he told me. ‘And turn your palm away from the man you salute, so he can’t see your mucky hands. You practise a few times. And don’t forget, you can be flogged for insubordination if you don’t salute.’
    Ben took me up to the gun deck to look at the ship’s guns. Daylight streamed in through the main gangways of the ship. Posted by each was a marine standing to attention in his bright red coat. On the starboard side, where the ship faced the quay, a gangplank led down to the harbour. I looked out, beyond the guard, to the quayside behind him. If I chose my moment, surely I could run past him?
    Ben could read my thoughts, and spoke quietly. ‘You’d be dead by the time you got halfway down the gangplank, Sam, if you hadn’t been run through with a bayonet before you even got out the ship. There’s a marine at every hatchway. And one by every mooring rope.
    â€˜You’ll find the marines keep themselves well apart from the sailors. It’s no wonder. They’re supposed to keep order. And they’re expected to kill any one of us who tries to escape.’
    The marine standing guard sensed we were talkingabout him.