R J Blowers

GERARD OAKLEY RN THE TAKING OF HMS POSEIDON

AUSTIN

MACAULEY

Copyright R J Blowers The right of R J Blowers to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

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Prologue
Treaty of Paris 1815 Article XIV - Treaty between Great Britain and Russia respecting the Ionian Islands. In the name of the Most Holy and Undivided Trinity His Majesty the King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, his Majesty the Emperor of all the Russias, The Emperor of Austria, King of Hungary and Bohemia and his Majesty the king of Prussia, united by the desire of prosecuting the negotiations adjourned at the Congress of Vienna, in order to fix the destiny of the seven Ionian Islands, and to insure the independence, liberty and happiness of the inhabitants of these islands, by placing those and their Constitution under the immediate protection of one of the great powers of Europe, have agreed to settle definitely by a special act, whatever relates to this object, which grounded upon the rights resulting from the Treaty of Paris of the 30th May 1814, and likewise upon the British Declarations at the period when the British arms liberated Cerigo, Zante, Cephalonia, Santa Maura, Ithaca and Paxo shall be considered as forming the General treaty concluded at Vienna on the 9th June of the year 1813, on the termination of the congress; and in order to settle and sign the said act, the High Contracting Powers have nominated Plenipotentiaries; that is to say, his majesty the King of the United Kingdom of a single free and Independent State, under the denomination of the United States of the Ionian Islands. Signed, 5th November 1815

Chapter 1
July 1820 Corfu
Gerard arrived early outside the Naval Headquarters building in the old fortress. His meeting was not due to start for another ten minutes, at precisely 9am. Things could really go badly today, he thought. The Royal Navy does not like to lose any of its ships. Although he would explain the circumstances, he would be fortunate to end the day without disgrace. He walked to the headquarters through the imperial Venetian gates that guarded the fortress, across from the nearby town where he rented his rooms. They were located on the top floor of a 6th storey Venetian town house, offering an uninterrupted view of the straights of Corfu. He could see from his vantage point the virtually unknown coast of Albania to the north and south across the mountainous mainland towards the upper reaches of the Ottoman Empire. Although it was early, the temperature was already nearing 30c and Gerard could feel himself starting to sweat under his dress coat and he hoped the room where the meeting was to be held would be cooler. He would be feeling uncomfortable in front of his seniors as it was and did not want the temperature to add further to his discomfort. He stood up straight, standing perfectly still; to anyone passing he would cut a commanding figure, six foot two inches tall and of trim build, long brown hair bleached by the sun, tied back by a customary black ribbon. In the distance, he could hear the start of another day within the old fortress. The citadel, whose origins were in antiquity, too old to be recorded, which previous housed such visitors as Odysseus and Homer, Nero, Anthony and Cleopatra, as well as more recent visitors such as the knights

of the crusades. The walls of the fortress were extended during the long and distinguished reign of the Venetian state, its origins still displayed, with the lion of St Marks prominent over the main gate house. There were now new modern day masters, Corfus recent new protectorate, the British. Gerard knew breakfast for the garrison had finished at 7am; the soldiers of the fortress were being drilled on the parade ground near the newly built St Georges chapel, constructed in an obvious dedication to the classic Romanesque styling. The drilling of the marine detachment would continue until 10am. These men, most of which had been recruited from the prisons of England were tough men, who would receive brutal discipline to keep them in order. Their ranks were filled with murderers and cut throats. That said, Gerard could not think of a better group of fighting men to go into battle with. He heard the sound of nailed boots on the shingle of the parade ground, marching to a rhythm, this rhythm closely matched by the beating of his own heart. His heart was beating fast, too fast, the anxiety of the coming meeting causing him to worry. He thought of the worst, he could be stripped of his commission and sent home in disgrace, or more awful still, he could be imprisoned, found guilty of gross misconduct. In search of reassurance he reached into his trouser pocket and touched the coin inside. It was an old roman coin he found near the aged quay of the fortress some years before. It was decorated with the profile of Octavia, later to become Mighty Augustus. Gerard always considered the coin as a lucky charm, something that would give him good fortune. He gave the coin a gentle rub, he would need to be propitious today. As the clock tower struck nine times, the adjutant, Lieutenant Hugo Bruce opened the door and invited Gerard into the reception room. Good morning, sir. Good morning, Captain Oakley, please go straight in, the Admiral is expecting you. Without another word, Gerard walked to the double doors

and knocked once. As he waited outside, he straightened his dress sword, which hung at his right side. It had been a present from his father when he had been promoted to Captain some two years before. Although Gerard was 24 years old, he was considered to be young for the post of Captain. This in itself caused him problems from men who judged the skill of a man by their age and not by their ability. Enter, called a voice from within. Gerard opened the doors and went into the room, marching straight up to the table where the three officers were sat. He stopped, saluted and removed his Captains hat, placing it under his right arm. Gerard knew the men sat before him. Admiral Scott was commanding officer for the Ionian squadron. He was a well-respected man whose experience was second to none. The two officers flanking him were of lower rank, Commander Bainbridge and Commander Cunningham. There was a moment of silence before Admiral Scott began. Good morning Captain Oakley, this meeting is called to enquire into the facts leading to the capture of His Majestys Ship Poseidon, to which, you were the commanding officer at the time. Admiral Scott, the chairman of the meeting continued his address, I have read your report and those of your fellow officers into the circumstances of the loss of her... Gerard stood, remaining completely still, eyes focused on the portrait of his monarch; King George III hung on the wall behind Admiral Scott. ...this enquiry will determine if there is any fault to be laid at the master and commander of this vessel. I must advise you that the result of this enquiry may lead to disciplinary action or worse if incompetence can be proven by those being responsible for HMS Poseidon. Gerard knew the Admiral was referring to him. I now call on Commander Bainbridge to continue. Gerard looked at the man sat to the left of the admiral. Commander Bainbridge had a reputation for being a stickler for rules and procedure. Although a masterful accountant and organiser, he was not known for his leadership ability and had not captained a ship for some years. It was even suggested by

some that he only acquired such a high rank due to his connections in his majestys government. Both his father and brother served the King from their offices in Westminster. As a junior Captain in His Majestys navy... Bainbridge began. You Captain Oakley would be expected to take responsibility for the vessel under your command and sole responsibility for it and its crew. Some may argue that at your age, you would not have the maturity or experience for such a command, but that is not the reason today for this enquiry... but may have been a contributing factor. Gerard remained impassive, although the suggestion from Bainbridge of his inexperience though cloaked made his teeth grind and his mouth take a slight turn downward. He regained his composure, his expression returning to one of quiet respect. Gerard still had not spoken and knew that he would not have the opportunity to address the meeting until he was asked to. It always angered him when his age was used as a criticism against him. Was it not Alexander the Great who was King of Macedonia at the age of 23 and the master of the known world, commanding an empire three times the size of the Roman Empire when he was but 33 years old, considered Gerard. Commander Bainbridge looked down at the papers laid out neatly on the table in front of him. Captain Oakley, your report states that you were in command of HMS Poseidon at the time when she was captured by ships, probably Turkish pirates, near to the port of Parga, is that correct? Yes sir, replied Gerard, still staring at the portrait. Your orders were to patrol the Corfu channel to the south, protect the interests of his majesty in this area, and were to use force where deemed necessary to protect those interests, is that correct? Yes, sir, here it comes he thought. Then Captain Oakley, I ask you how is it that knowing all this, you allowed your ship, HMS Poseidon and her entire ships company to be captured by these Turkish pirates? Gerard considered this, what Bainbridge really meant was why did the ship not go down fighting, with you and your

crew battling to the end, to the bitter end, in the long established tradition of the Royal Navy. Although Gerard had written his report, detailing all the circumstances that led to his course of action, why he had made his decisions and what he had perceived his alternatives to be, what he said now would determine his future in the Royal Navy, that is, if there was any future left for him. Gerard began to explain the circumstances that led to the loss of HMS Poseidon. A frigate of 24 guns, she would have been considered old in service. That said, she was Gerards first command and for this fact alone he treasured her above all else. She leaked, the bilge pumps working for most of the day just to keep her sea worthy. She was the second ship of the navy to carry this proud name, the first being sunk by the colonists off Boston in 1776. The current Poseidon had seen service in the Mediterranean operating from Gibraltar before being posted to the eastern fleet operating from Malta. Although she had won some honours during the Napoleonic wars, she was destined it seemed to end her career patrolling the trade routes of the eastern Mediterranean before being retired from service. Gerard did not care that she was old. On taking command he had modified the bow sprite and had the sail maker extend the jibs, allowing her to point closer to the wind when beating. These changes making up for her lack of speed. He had also obtained a pair of Turkish bronze 24lb cannons, which could propel a shot a further hundred feet than the regular iron cast cannon. As per his orders, HMS Poseidon was patrolling the shipping routes between Crete and the Ionian islands. Whilst positioned of the west coast of Lefkada, he had come across an English merchant ship, The Oceanic. She was being pursued by three Turkish gun boats that had closed and were attempting to board her. HMS Poseidon engaged the three boats, her cannon fire knocking out of action the first ship, the second catching fire and the third breaking off from the attack and headed north in retreat. The Oceanic resumed on its journey south unhindered whilst the Poseidon pursued the final gun boat as it headed

further north into the southern reaches of the Corfu channel. He concluded that the final boat was heading for the harbour at Parga and not wanting her to escape and confident of capturing or sinking her before she could return to port, he pursued her towards the harbour. He decided to leave the first two boats as both were floundering and were unable to make any headway. The three men at the table listened intently. They knew these facts as these were all detailed in Gerards report. What they really wanted to know was coming and they waited patiently to hear it. As the Poseidon crossed into the lower Corfu channel, she was gaining on the gun boat and was preparing to open fire. It was 11am in the morning; the steady south-westerly breeze that had blown all morning began to die off. The Poseidon lost momentum with the smaller boat able to pull away and she finally became becalmed at around 12 midday. Gerard knew this is where his judgement was about to be questioned. On cue, Commander Bainbridge asked, And what did you do next Captain? I called off the attack. We were unable to manoeuvre. The Turkish gun boat continued away from our position. In the next two hours we hardly moved. I was not overly concerned at this time as we had more than enough fire power to deal with the gun boat if it was to return. It was some four hours later, approximately 6pm when I first saw them. Coming from the north-east I saw five attack galleys coming from the direction of Parga. These ships used their oarsmen and were able to progress despite the lack of any wind. They could close on my position at will. It was my opinion that it would have be folly to remain and try to engage these galleys. I was unable to manoeuvre and would surely have been sunk or captured. I decided that my only option was to retreat. I gave the order for the guns to be unhitched from their carriages and to be thrown overboard. Reducing the ships weight and thereby increasing the chances of moving under sail. It was on the use of the word retreat that Bainbridge looked up at Captain Oakley. So, Captain, so that was what you did, dispose of your

guns so you could retreat? Yes, sir. Was that wise Captain? You disarmed your ship rather than fight. You had completely removed the fighting capability of your ship whilst being engaged by a determined enemy. Gerard knew that to remove a ships guns was a tried and tested method to avoid capture. It was a desperate measure, but had proved successful before but his ship had been captured and he had to answer for its loss. I abandoned the guns in order to withdraw. He knew at the time that this was the only option he had. Even if he had been able to move his ship, she was no match against the five Turkish galleys, each having up to thirty cannons. The Poseidon was now able to make some progress, travelling at 23 knots. I had hoped to try and find some stronger wind but to no avail. It was three hours until sunset and the following galleys were closing in. The lead ship opened fire, its shot, raking the deck. Five or six further volleys caused substantial death and injury. If it was to continue then the ship would have been destroyed, the officers and crew killed with it. I gave the orders for the colours to be struck to save what was left of the crew. How many men did you have under your command, Captain? Bainbridge enquired. One hundred and eight-nine in listed men and sixteen commissioned officers. Of these, seventy men and five officers had been killed or injured. We were boarded by the lead ship. The Captain, who I assumed was from the flag ship, introduced himself as Aziz Ali. Gerard would not forget the face of the man who had sealed his fate that day. He hoped he would have the chance to avenge what took place and he could feel his anger rise up as he remembered the look of enjoyment on his face when Aziz gave his orders he would never forget. Captain, please continue with your report. Bainbridge knowing how difficult the next few words would be for Gerard and taking some satisfaction in making him speak them. The men were separated. The wounded, which number

about forty, were grouped together, whilst all the able bodied men and officers were brought to the far side of the main deck. Each injured man was bound to the next by the ankles. Aziz gave the order for the first injured man to be bound to a large heavy chain. The chain was picked up and carried to the side of the ship. It was then that I realised what was about to happen. I could do nothing. I shouted to their Captain to stop but he would not. The chain was thrown over the side. Gerard stopped as he recalled the look of sheer terror on the faces of the injured men, bound to each other and to the chain. He and the other uninjured men, powerless to stop what was happening. The injured men were heaving at their bounded ankles trying to work them free but to no avail. It was no good. The chain finished running out and the first man closely followed by the second, third and on, were dragged overboard by the weight, taken down to the murky depths of the sea. The utter horror of their impending doom realised in a moment by the men still standing on the deck. They had been condemned to death. Gerard would never forget their screams of terror as they were dragged down to their destruction. He would never tell another soul about his nightmares. The torment remained with him; he despaired it would do so for the rest of his life. So Captain Oakley, Bainbridge continued, you sealed the fate of your men that day as well as the loss of the Poseidon. Please finish your report so we may consider judgement. Gerard felt himself needing to take a slight pause as he gathered his thoughts. The rest of the men and officers were taken as prisoners. The officers and I were separated from the crew and were to be taken to Parga. However, we managed to escape before reaching the city. I do not know what has become of the Poseidon or its crew. Thank you, Captain, I think we have heard enough. If there is nothing more then I suggest, sir, we retire to make judgement, Bainbridge addressing Admiral Scott. Before we do this, I wish to ask the Captain some questions. There are some points I would wish to clarify, if

there are no objections. This was the first time Commander Cunningham had spoken. Captain Oakley, you say your men were taken as prisoners. How many was this? One hundred and nineteen men, sir, he replied in a quiet voice. I see. Cunningham caught the young mans eye. He remembered Gerard from when he was a young midshipman on the Courageous. He recalled him demonstrating his bravery on many occasions. He had surprised Cunningham and his officers when he displayed his obvious ability for tactics. He could think on his feet and was naturally intuitive. Yes, Gerard was young for a Captain. That said, he had earned every promotion and had been the right choice to captain the Poseidon. Cunningham was aware of the difficult predicament Gerard now found himself facing. It was the fear of every Captain of every ship, the fear of losing their vessel. Be it to the ravages of the sea or the ability of other men. Cunningham did not want to see him disgraced. Captain Oakley. If you had carried on fighting, what would have become of your men? I believe, sir, they would have been killed. You say that you escaped with the surviving officers, how was this done? Although Cunningham and his fellow officers had read the report, there had been no mention of this until now. We had been separated from the men. As we reached the shore, we managed to overpower the guards and make our return to Corfu. Cunningham had read the report. Gerard led his men against their captures, broken free and returned safely back. It had only been Gerards quick thinking and his ability to adapt that saved them from recapture. Whilst the Turkish guards were scouring the shore line, he had instructed his men to hide behind a fallen tree trunk that had been washed up on the sandy shore. It took all of them with considerable effort to drag it from the beach and refloat it away from the shore and the pursing guards. His fellow officers had provided their reports

to the hearing. In these, they describe not knowing what the Captain had in mind for them. He had instructed the men to hold on to the floating trunk. Corfu was forty miles north along the coast; surely he had not expected them to swim such a distance. It would be beyond all human endurance. What his fellow officers did not know was they would be taking a lesson from history, a lesson which would save their lives. Gerard had told his men to hang on and swim. He ordered them to kick, sending them and the heavy unyielding tree out away from the shores. They could not see the sense in this as they would never be able to maintain their momentum for more than a mile. He told his men to persevere; they would all survive if they followed his instructions. Cunningham had read the report and was impressed with the Captains composure under pressure. He had lost his ship, seen his men slaughtered but had still remained focused on the task before him, to save whoever he could. Gerard remembered his history and it was this that had saved them. In AD32, there had been the decisive sea battle between emperor Octavia and Anthony and Cleopatra. The vast Roman fleet and combined Egyptian and ships loyal to Anthony had fought approximately ten miles further south along the coast. During the crucial battle, thousands of sailors perished. Their bodies being taken by an unexpected local sea current that ran north, in contradiction with the natural flow of the sea. The current was strong, sometimes reaching 3 or 4 knots. The bodies had travelled along the coastline, some thirty miles to the small bay that was eventually named Mourtos, a permanent reminder of the bays infamous notoriety. Gerard remembered this and had put the knowledge to good use. The heavy tree trunk was transported by the current, away from danger and further capture, taking the men to safety. From Mourtos they stole a small boat and sailed the few miles across the Corfu channel to the southern fishing village of Petriti. I have read your report detailing your escape and commend you Captain, for your quick thinking. Cunningham added. No more questions, thank you, sir. Admiral Scott glanced to his fellow officers concluding the

meeting. Captain Oakley, we have heard your account and will retire to make judgement. You are required to remain until we have considered your actions and have made our decision. Admiral Scott rose from his chair and was followed by his fellow officers through a side door to his private office. Bruce entered the room and offered Gerard a seat and a cool drink. Gerard knew the enquiry had not gone well. He had appreciated Cunninghams comments. If it had not been for him his career would already be over, he thought. The decision hung in the balance and could go either way. He waited patiently and anxiously for his future to be decided. At 2pm, Admiral Scott and his colleagues returned. Gerard returned to stand to the front of the three men. He saluted and again remained staring at the portrait ahead. The officers returned his salute before taking their places behind the table. Captain Oakley, began Admiral Scott, we have considered all of the facts relating to the capture of his Majestys ship Poseidon and the incarceration of its surviving crew. In all these matters we have considered as Captain, being responsible for the ship and men, whether you have acted, with negligence or incompetence. We have also had to consider if you have upheld the office of Captain and executed your responsibilities as per the requirements of the service. Gerard remained impassive whilst the Admiral spoke. He had always admired Admiral Scott. His integrity was unquestionable; he was known to be tough but considered fair by the men who served under him. He was a product of the service. After serving thirty years he had seen it all. He had lost his arm during an encounter with a French ship but this had not hindered him. Although only five foot six inches tall and of slight build, he commanded the room. When he spoke, he conveyed himself calmly and quietly. He knew his place in the world and was comfortable with it. Captain Oakley, Admiral Scott continued, with regard to the question of negligence or incompetence on your part, we considered that your decisions may well have been questionable, but you have acted honestly and in the interest of the ship and crew. We find you on these matters, not

proven. Gerard remained staring at the portrait, his body ridged as he remained at attention. With regard to the question of whether you have executed your responsibilities as per the requirements of the service, this hearing concluded that your decision making was inadequate. You disarmed your ship in the face of an overwhelming force. This had led to the capture of your ship and the death of many of its crew and the incarceration of the remaining men. However, this hearing cannot ignore the quick thinking and positive action you took to liberate the ships officers from confinement and to lead them to safety. In this matter, this enquiry finds you not proven. Captain Oakley, you remain a commissioned officer in his Majestys Royal Navy. It is the decision of this enquiry that no charges are brought against you. Is there anything you wish to say? Gerard tried not to show his obvious relief. Sir, I wish to thank the gentlemen of this enquiry for giving judgement in my favour. I deeply regret the loss of HMS Poseidon and the taking of its crew. I hope to have the opportunity to remedy the situation at the earliest opportunity. Admiral Scott considered the young officer stood before him. It had been a very close decision. If it had not been for Commander Cunningham, who was obviously a keen supporter of the young man, he would have to accept the conclusions expressed to him by Commander Bainbridge. That said, Bainbridge was not a fighter and had probably never have found himself during his long career, having to engage three hostile ships at the same time. Captain Oakley, although your reputation remains intact, I cannot escape from the fact that HMS Poseidon has been lost. Therefore, I have no intention to offer you another command. Gerard was unable to hide his disappointment. He lowered his gaze. You can remain in Corfu, if you wish, but as for orders, I have none for you. I am sure your conscience will not let you forget the men that have died or been taken capture. You will

find there are very few officers or men who would want to serve a Captain who has had his ship taken from him. This is the dilemma you now face. Your future is uncertain and may well depend on what you decide to do next. Gerard knew that Admiral Scott was right. Sailors were superstitious by nature; none wanted to serve with a Captain who would be considered unlucky. He would be considered unlucky. He knew what his options were; he knew what he had to do. Sir, if you are asking for me to resign my commission voluntarily, then I cannot do this. The navy is my life; I know no other and want no other. If I must wait then I will wait. I pray that one day I will have the opportunity to redeem myself so help me God. Admiral Scott looked at the young officer and understood why Cunningham had so much faith in him. Fate had been cruel to him, but sometimes that is the way of things. If his fortunes were to change, then from now on it would be up to him. If that is your decision, Captain, then I have no alternative but to accept it. I hope for your sake there is a change in your fortune to come. I will now formally bring this enquiry to a close. Thank you gentlemen. Gerard saluted the three officers as they left the room. He had kept his commission but his career was over.

Chapter 2
Gerard walked out of the naval headquarters and turned right heading towards the main gate of the fortress. As he walked on he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Lieutenant Steven Christian. Christian had been his first officer aboard the Poseidon and was the closest thing he had to a friend. Although only a year younger than Gerard, Steven would not be considered for the post of Captain for some years to come if at all. Gerard thought him to be one of the finest men he had ever known. He could be completely focused, ruthless when facing idleness or inefficiency. He had displayed his courage on many occasions and on one of these he saved Gerards life. During the boarding of a French schooner during the Napoleonic wars, Gerard had been knocked to the ground by the most monstrous man and was slowly being strangled by his huge hands. Steven came to his rescue, kicking the brute so violently that he eventually released his grip allowing Gerard to finally run him through with his sword. Gerard was grateful on this occasion but this had only added to his deep held concerns for Stevens vicious temper. However, he did have a lighter side to his character. Steven had a self-belief, which was infectious. Sometimes, Gerard could not stop himself from laughing hysterically when Steven was self-promoting one of his own ideas. Some would consider Steven arrogant but Gerard did not. The over self-confidence came from an absolute believe in his own ability, which some may have seen as conceited but Gerard knew came from a man who recognised his own capability. The crew respected Steven, he was tough, and sailors respected tough men. Steven was slightly shorter than Gerard but was a broader build. He had a distinctive nose, which betrayed his ancestry. However, this was not the reason Stevens naval career would never achieve its true potential. As a distant relation to Fletcher

Christian, the notorious officer who caused the biggest scandal in British naval history, Steven would probably never command, no matter what he achieved. This was why, Gerard often thought, Steven regarded senior officers with such disdain. How did it go? enquired Steven. I need a drink. Ill meet you at Dmitris in about 10 minutes? Gerard did not turn to face him, his heart feeling heavy. Of course sir but dont look so worried, Ill buy the drinks. Steven tried to lighten his friends spirits but realised he was failing. Gerard needed a few minutes to compose himself; it had been a difficult day. He walked on, through the newly laid out gardens, past the partially constructed palace of St George and St Michael to his right and on into the small narrow streets of the old town. * * *

You think a lot of that young man, enquired Admiral Scott. I am only thinking what is best for the service, sir. He is a good officer, and one day may even be great, if he lives long enough, replied Cunningham. Isnt that the way with all of us? Thats true, sir, but I still think he is a special case. The way he had rescued his men and led them along the coast, well I thought it was inspired. I cannot think of another officer, certainly not in our squadron who would have been able to do the same. Not even you or me? This brought a small smile to Cunninghams face. Well maybe? I want to speak to you about something else, continued Admiral Scott. I have been requested to attend Fleet headquarters in Malta. Lord Asquith wishes to be briefed in person of our current position. This latest incident with the

Poseidon only goes to strengthen my view that the Caliph is behind the attack. He has become more outrageous with every act and is trying to provoke us further. Do you think he is after war? Maybe so, but what is his motive? He knows if it is war he would lose. If anything it would play into our hands. The Russians have gained lands ceded to them around the Black Sea. They are the main threat to the Ottoman Empire, not us. Maybe he wants to entice the Russians to join them. Possibly, sir. But in the Ionian it is the British who are the major power. We are a long way from the Black Sea; the Russians would struggle to supply any fleet or army campaigning in this area. Maybe, but there is a lot at stake. There is already talk of a destabilisation of the Ottoman Empire. If that was to happen then it would create a power vacuum, which can only be truly filled by a resurgent Russia. Cunningham considered for a moment, Could it be that the Caliph has his own personal reasons for starting a war. Maybe he fancies himself as the new Pasha? He has powerful friends in Egypt. Maybe if we go to war against him it might be the catalyst he needs to take control of the whole Empire. It wouldnt be the first time something like this has been tried, and worked. Admiral Scott considered Cunninghams words. He had always valued his opinion and on this occasion he may have guessed right again. I will leave for Malta by the end of the week. I will brief Asquith on our position and will relay your thoughts to him. Your conclusions do make a lot of sense. In my absence, I want you to take temporary command of the squadron. I need someone I can trust and yours are the safest hands I know. Cunningham was slightly flattered by the compliment; Admiral Scott knew how to command. Of course sir, I would be happy to. Good thats settled. I will provide you with your orders before I leave. Cunningham was the obvious choice. He was insightful and an excellent leader of men, concluded Admiral

Scott. There is one other matter of a personal matter that I would ask your help with. Of course, sir. As you know, Lady Anne and my daughter Elizabeth are due to arrive here any day. They have been away from England since May and are on some godforsaken European tour. Why anyone would want to travel across Europe by land is a mystery to me. Anyway, if they do arrive after I have left, please can you make my apologies to Anne, and try to get her and Elizabeth settled in before I return. I know Lady Maitland would be more than willing to house them at the Commissioners residence. It would be far more comfortable for them there than at my own quarters. Admiral Scott passed Cunningham a hand written letter addressed to Anne Scott. It would be my pleasure, sir. I have not seen either Lady Anne or Elizabeth for some time. To be fair Cunningham, nor have I. I imagine Elizabeth is quite the young lady now.

Chapter 3
The streets were almost empty as Gerard made his way through the narrow lanes heading to Dmitris bar. Most of the inhabitants of the city were at home, asleep, enjoying their afternoon siesta. Only foreigners, in particular, the British could be found out in the mid afternoon sun. Dmitri had often mocked them; The British may be powerful but know nothing about the weather. As Gerard approached the bar he could hear shouting and voices arguing inside. This was a regular occurrence and he ignored it. The two men arguing had now come out of the bar and were continuing in the street. He walked straight past them and sat at one of the tables. Gerard could not follow the nature of this particular argument. Although he had learnt enough Greek to get by, the two brothers were talking so fast that it was all too much for him to comprehend. The two men stood only a few feet away from him. Both were speaking at the same time, not bothering to listen to the other, both were more interested in getting their own opinion across. They were very animated, waving their arms around and pointing at the other. Gerard knew this could go on for some time. He liked Dmitris bar. It was almost exclusively used by the local Greek people as most foreigners preferring a more relaxed bar with a quieter atmosphere. Gerard liked it because the drinks were cheap and it was only two streets from his rooms. Even from there he could hear the noise coming from the bar. This would sometimes go on late into the night; some of the residents would argue, too late. Gerard saw Steven approach. Steven, mockingly, putting his hands over his ears. Gerard understood the joke but was not in the mood for laughing. Steven slapped Dmitri on the back. Dmitri, Dmitri, you have customers. What are the chances of getting served with a drink? I know you are discussing a

very important issue and normally I would not interrupt you but my friend and I are both thirsty and if we dont get served soon, we will start to tear the place apart. His attitude of sarcasm and threats had the desired effect. Dmitri immediately stopped shouting. A big warm friendly smile appeared on his face. He gave a low bow towards Steven and Gerard. Excuse please your highnesses. I will fetch you your usual. I must apologise for my stupid brother. He is such a bloody rude man. Dmitri walked briskly into the bar. He was quickly followed by his brother Kosta, who also on seeing their only customers, bowed, before continuing inside. They could still be heard carrying on their argument, although their voices for the moment were slightly muted. A few moments later, Dmitri returned and placed two small glasses of Ouzo and a small carafe of water on the table. How are you Dmitri? enquired Steven. I am very well your Excellency, he replied before bowing again. As Steven added water to his Ouzo, he felt like being entertained. Dmitri, what is the problem now between you and Kosta? I cant believe you two are arguing again. Gerard looked at Steven and shook his head. Steven only shrugged his shoulders in response. Sarcasm was always lost on Dmitri, he thought. Dmitri came in close to him and lowered his voice, Kosta is a fool, a fool. What do you mean? enquired Steven. He is a fool! This time Dmitri didnt lower his voice, shouting loudly so his brother could hear him inside. He wants us to turn this bar and the rooms above into a hotel. He thinks with all the European travellers coming to the island, we could make a lot of money. Sounds like a good idea to me, Steven added. Its a bad idea. Dmitris voice was getting louder with every word. A bad idea. Europeans want comfortable rooms with toilets inside the house. They are not like Greeks who live

in a simple way. Anyway, how long will they keep coming? If the British leave, we will be stuck with a hotel and no guests. If the British leave then maybe the Turks will come and they could be your guests. Steven was enjoying himself. Never! Never! I will kill any Turk who comes to my hotel. Not good for business, added Steven. I do not care. I will not change the bar. It will stay as it has always been. Kosta thinks he is so clever. He says in the future people will come to the island to relax, for a vacation, on a holiday. I tell him he is dreaming. Why would people leave their home and travel so far? He is dreaming. Dmitri noticed that other customers had entered the bar. He bowed to the British officers before taking his leave. Gerard turned to Steven. I still have my commission. Steven nodded, suddenly very serious and listening intently to his friend. But it does not look like I will be doing much for a while. The navy is not going to trust me with one of its ships for some time, if at all. I think they want me to sit around until I get disheartened, give up and go home. Did they not offer you anything? No nothing and can you blame them? Gerard was not one for self-pity but this was the nearest he got to it. I would give anything for a chance to redeem myself. There are one hundred and forty of my men locked up or worse, slave rowers in the Turkish galleys. How am I ever going to get the chance to free them? I owe them my life ten times over. Am I not going to get the chance to repay them? Although these were questions, Gerard was not looking for any reply. Steven knocked back his Ouzo. He always drank it with water, the Greek way. He preferred it that way. Well it looks like neither of us have much chance of any employment. Gerard had not considered Steven up until that moment. He suddenly realised that both of their careers would be affected. It was my responsibility. Surely there will be another

posting for you? Steven in reply, shook his head. They cant punish you, it was my decision, you did your duty and followed orders. That may be the case but you know what the service is like. The senior officers do what they want to do. Surely, something will turn up for you. Maybe? Maybe not. Anyway, if it doesnt then I can spend the rest of the summer drinking Ouzo. Gerard knew it was not uncommon for Captains to wait years for another command. It was not only Captains, but all the senior ranks that were affected. He knew of other officers who had got tired of waiting and had eventually resigned their commission or gone to serve in a foreign navy. Gerard knew that neither would ever be an option for him. Although it was the hottest part of the day, the streets of the old city were narrow; the Venetian town houses built seven storeys high did not allow the sunlight to penetrate to the streets below until later in the evening. The city was the capital of the Ionian Islands, home for some 20,000 inhabitants. Even so, the news of the taking of HMS Poseidon was the gossip of the bars and coffee shops. The British were the protectorate of the islands and the local population relied upon them for their safety. Dmitri heard the news a few days before and was concerned for the Captain. He brought over two more Ouzos to the table. These are with our compliments, Captain. Thanks, replied Gerard, appreciating the gesture. He knew that he had little chance of any income until he secured another ship. He had few savings and before long he would have to start restricting his visits to the bar. Captain, I have heard of your misfortune and I am very sorry for you, began Dmitri. I can see by your face you are unhappy. When I have bad news I try to remember a story my father told me when I was young. Thanks Dmitri, but Im not in the mood for a story. Captain, you are a good man but it hurts me to see you like this. My father told me about a man from our village. He was sad like you. He lived in a small house with his wife and

four young children. His mother-in-law also lived with them but she did not like him, always complaining he was no good. Dmitri pulled up a chair and his young son joined him, sitting on his lap. Dmitri gave him a gentle smile. Now one day, the man had come home to find his wife was not well. It was nothing serious but it meant he would have to do the cooking and clean up after the children. All the time his wife and her mother would complain at everything he did. Well, the man had enough. He left the house and went to the small chapel in the village to speak to his priest. Father I cant take any more, my life is in ruin, I am in despair. The priest sat him down and asked him what was wrong. I live in a small house with my wife, four children and her mother. None of them like me and they shout at me all the time. My life could not be any worse. I want to run away but I thought I would ask for your help first. Dmitri was enjoying telling the story. Gerard took another sip of his Ouzo. Dmitri was a good man he thought, but hearing about another mans problems was not improving his mood. Well, continued Dmitri, the priest considered the mans words carefully. Do not worry my son, I understand your problem and I know what to do. The priest left the room for a moment. The man was pleased on hearing this and waited for the priest to return and solve his dilemma. He was somewhat confused when the priest returned carrying a small pig. What is this? asked the man. Do not worry, continued the priest. I want you to take this pig home with you and keep it in your house for the next three weeks. The man was completely puzzled by the priest. Father, he said, you do not understand. My life is terrible, I do not need a pig, I need wisdom! Take the pig and do as I ask. Come back to see me in four weeks and tell me how things are then. The other customers had stopped their conversation and were also listening to Dmitris tale. Well, the man was obedient so did as he was told and took the little pig home with him. He let it live in the house with him and his family. The pig made a lot of mess. It did not like

the children and would chase them around the small room until they cried. It would squeal all night and sleep most of the day. It particularly disliked his mother-in-law and would bite her ankles making her even more bad tempered. Being the dutiful man, he did as he was told and kept the pig for the three weeks. He waited another week before returning to the priest. The man walked in and the priest saw that he looked cheerful. Why my son, I see that my suggestion has worked. Yes, Father, it did. And how is that my son? Well Father, ever since that pig has gone, life at home has been so much better, I have been so much happier. The Priest smiled, See my son; you have learnt a very important lesson. And what is that Father? It is that things can always get worse. Steven gave out a loud laugh. Gerard wasnt sure if it was the story or the ouzo he had been drinking but even he saw the humour in it. You are a good storyteller Dmitri. Thank you, Captain, would you like to hear another? No. One is enough. Gerard got up from the table, Ill see you later, Steven, I need to get some air. He turned and walked along the cobbled streets towards the harbour. He turned, passing the Liston, a long esplanade, with covered walkways offering shelter for all seasons, sunshine in the summer and rain in the winter. Gerard walked on past the newly constructed public gardens and cricket ground. The area had been for the last 500 years the killing ground for the Venetian fortress. It no longer served such a function and the British had wasted little time transforming it into a recreation area, which could rival the rich parks of London. However, it had been the cricket pitch which had the largest impact on the local people. When they had first seen the players dressed all in white, entering the pitch, there was little interest. However, after the first sounds of leather on willow, and shouts of Howzat! they would cheer every time a run was scored. Each Sunday, the matches would draw crowds of four or five thousand spectators. Most of them sat under trees in the shaded boulevard side of the

ground. Onwards Gerard walked. To his left was the construction site of the impressive Palace of St Michael and St George. When completed, it would house the offices of the Government and the official residence of the Lords High Commissioner. It would also be used for the treasury of the Order of St Michael and St George which had been created to reward service in Malta and the Ionian Islands. He continued on to the disused Venetian battlements where he found a seat on a tumbled down block of stone. From there, he sat looking out across the Corfu channel, somewhere in the distance, obscured by the heat haze was the mainland of Albania. He sat there alone, considering the future of a sea Captain who no longer had a ship. Gerard woke in a cold sweat. Although the night time temperature would remain around 30C, he was shivering. He got up out of bed and walked out onto his balcony, looking east out towards the mainland. The sea was completely calm, the soft yellow glow of the moon reflecting off the flat water. It had been the same nightmare. Since the taking of the Poseidon he would often dream it. Gerard was no stranger to death and in his twelve years of service he had seen it many times. From the shattered bodies of men obliterated by cannon fire, to the senseless stabbing of a sailor outside a tavern, he had witnessed it all. He had come to live with it. It was part of the life of a seaman in His Majestys navy. However, the screams of his men would not go away. He would play out the drama in his mind again and again. He would see the mens faces filled with horror staring back at him, one by one being dragged by their binds with Gerard standing, watching, powerless to help; one by one, being pulled down into the sea to their watery graves. This was not warfare, Gerard thought. There was no honour in these killings. Fighting could be brutal but this was killing for pleasure. He remembered the face of the Turkish Captain, his cruel laughter resonating whilst Gerards men were sent to their deaths. Gerard looked out across the sea

towards the looming mountains of the mainland and knew he would not sleep again tonight.