Chapter 2: Ship's boy

There had been considerable speculation as to which ship would be refitted with the masthead of Ms. Aster. After much discussion, the Admiralty decided that the former French ship Pluton would have the honor. She was a seventy-four gun ship of the line and finest of the five prize ships sent to the Chatham ship yards. She was not old as ships go, only five years since christening. As such most of the refitting work was aimed at matching her to the exacting standards of the British navy.

The Admiralty had sent a Ship Master to oversee the installation of the new masthead and assume some basic administrative duties related to accepting supplies needed for the refit. However, it wasn't until a captain and officers were installed that the work began in earnest and there was much to do. The docks, which until now held mostly visitors, came alive with carpenters, craftsmen, and persons from the Admiralty. Crew selection was initiated and each day, as more sailors were signed, the work pace picked up. Some of the rigging had been damaged when the ship was captured, so the captain ordered that all of it should be replaced. Provisions and supplies were competely unloaded from the hold to allow an inventory be taken and the hold inspected. I had been around the yards and docks my entire life, but never felt the desire to be aboard a ship until now. As exciting as it was to watch the refitting effort go forward I could only imagine the feeling of pride which seemed to swell in the officers and crew as project after project was completed. She was a proud craft with beautiful lines and standing next to her I was awed by her size. The masts were so tall that sailors checking the rigging and working the top sails were sometimes obscured by low, early morning clouds.

I had become a fixture on the dock and increasingly an obstruction to the inventory and provisioning work being performed. "Boy!", called out an irritated Lieutenant. "I have ten tonnes of crates to move, check, and repack in the hold and you are starting to get in the way. Unless you are the Ship's Boy I will ask you to remove yourself from the docks." I was panicked at the thought of not being near the ship, so asked "Sir, do you have a Ship's Boy already?" The Lieutenant looked thoughtfully for a moment and said, "No. Not yet, but if you have a mind to offer yourself for that post the captain will require permission from your father."

So it was, that after a brief discussion with my father that the appropriate papers were signed and returned to the captain, and I became Ship's Boy. Wasting no time I thanked my father, hugged mother, and ran to my room. It did not take long to lay every possession on the bed. Two changes of clothes (other than what I had on), bible, brush, and a penny whistle. I was briefly concerned on discovering that I had no bag in which to pack my things, but mother anticipated the need and came in with my grandfather's seabag. Hugging her again I stuffed my things into the bag; filling barely a quarter of the space.

As I was preparing to leave Father came in. "Son, since we were unable to place you as an apprentice with any tradesmen your future here would have been bleak. That said, our family has always been around and aboard ships, so it is in your blood and as such I believe you have made a good choice. Be aware that you will face many dangers on the high seas and you must be brave. There is no place to run on a ship and she is only as strong as the people who sail her. When trouble comes and you want to run and hide - hold fast and do what you must!" With Father's words still in my thoughts I tossed the seabag over my shoulder and left the only house I had ever known.