Dakota Viking Sends: Cargo, Out of Africa

HMS Nymphe and Cleopatra
Donald MacLeod
Source

Orders for the Nora  … "Bring the cargo of lead and iron pigs, powder, and muskets to the port of Algiers."

Easier said than done, someone had stirred up the Brits. One of their frigates was grappling with our own escort. Not going well. They were our escort, but  …

Mainmast down, glows of fires, they were done. The merchant captain ran out his guns and gave a spiteful broadside to the Brits taking his protectors.

Make speed! The Anglo ship wouldn’t be occupied in battle forever. They would soon be pursued. They had to make Algiers or sunset soon. Sun below the horizon, still plenty of light.

Low thuds echoing, rumbling in the distance  … the fight is still going on.

Suddenly one or the other made a lucky shot (or fires reached a magazine) … Bright Flash … A deafening roar and a fiery column of light … As the first column starts drifting back to the water, the second ship detonates with the same intensity.

“Mother of God!”

Both Men o’ War disappeared into low scudding fires on the sea’s surface … Beautiful … Horrible … Terrifying.

One ship appears to be on her beam ends, broken amidships, burning. The other, bow and stern up … split in two … Impossibly burning “flying” poles above the wrecks … masts blown free …

Faint shouts, barely more than squeaks at distance … Survivors?

“Luff the sails, rudder come about … Men Overboard!

"Lower whaleboats!”

“Ready guns, ready rescue!”

“Pikes and axes!”

“Lookouts to bow, stern, and peaks.”

“Ready for survivors!”

Pitiful sounds came with the boats clouded in darkness, Noblemen, women , children!? Sailors. All injured. Huddled together , some scalded, some deaf, all were wet.

Pierre looked …? Now there was only one fire on the water.

Calls to get boats to the last wreck, spurred a bit more action … Six, maybe ten, that was all. One woman in a boat is screeching frantically for a child … missing … gone.

Heartbreaking.

The last wreck sizzled beneath the waves. It was Dark.

“Lanterns!”

“Two, bow ,stern, amidships …”

The rescue boats vectored in on the lights, bringing very few back, but these were all Brits.

“Should have let them drown!”

“You, Francis, are a pig!”

The first few boats they rescued were obviously noble by dress. They were silent, subdued and soaking wet.

Scalded, dazed, and mostly deaf, the survivors made their way up the side out of the whaleboats. Some had to be hauled up and over the rail. Blankets and boat cloaks were passed out along with mugs of warmed wine.

“Bless you … Thank you”

One of the Brit common sailors was on the receiving end of some passionate violence, pushed and shoved around. The third mate strode forward and full on slapped the abusing French sailor across the face.

“Enough!”

“He is a prisoner and will be treated with respect, more importantly, he is a fellow sailor we rescued and you will treat him with compassion.”

The offending sailor decided he had somewhere better to be right now. And went there.

The women and children were the families of the new ambassador and his staff to Algiers from England, The Brit Frigate was their transport. Now, the French merchant Nora was their transport, headed to the same port.

The ship surgeon did what little he could for the injured. When the sun rose, there were three bodies to commit to the deep. That done they made their way into the harbor, on the early morning breeze. Whaleboats were lowered with towing hawsers, the sails reefed up, sailors bending their backs on the oars to pull Nora up to the quay.

Moored, a squad of Algerian troops, muskets shouldered, forms up near where the brow is going over the side, a few “fancy” looking locals in bright pantaloons and flowing robes step to the front. Pleasantries are exchanged, the French Captain invites the dignitaries aboard. Some polite small talk, then down to business.

The Dey has a problem with the French ambassador …

“You see, the Americans have been sinking our ships, and raiding our ports, like pirates!. Your Ambassador refuses to do anything to stop it!. You are allied with the Americans. Your Ambassador must leave, the Englanders have promised to help us. We will still honor your contract for the cargo, and you may purchase whatever cargo you wish to take back from here. Just know this … You will be taking all the French diplomats and their families back to France when you leave.”

Later, the new English ambassador thanked Captain Phillipe for their rescue and safe delivery to Algiers. Contact information exchanged, The ambassador promised to get word to the French Admiralty of his gallantry. With that, the Brit took his party ashore.

The French diplomat was piped aboard so he could arrange for his household to be packed as cargo. The unload of the ships cargo started just after the noon bell sounded. Block and tackle for the lead and pig Iron, sailor and shore porter power for the guns and powder.

Hours dragged on, Wagons full of sacks of wheat, barrels of dates and olive oil, exotic animal hides, all started showing up on the Quay, waiting to be loaded. A couple Beeves and a dozen goats were readied to be herded aboard for fresh meat. Drums of Sulfur and salt added to the cargo, along with a wagon of feed for the “herd”. Fresh water and food were loaded, with everything else.

Three days later they were ready to get underway.

Turns out the ambassador is a distant "favored" cousin of the King, court courtesies to be observed. Wife and four beautiful daughters with a spirited 10 year old boy.

Diplomats and families loaded, cast off the lines, let the offshore breeze nudge the Nora out into the bay. Unfurl the sails in the stiffening breeze.

“Set course North by Nor’west.”

Beautiful deep blue sea. Fresh air and a steady wind wipe away the foul stench of a North African port. Sunshine, white clouds, a beautiful day for sailing.

Editor's Note: This post explains why the French crew in this post fought so hard.