Free Where The Flag Floats by D C Grant Page B

now.”
    With quick, unsteady steps, Fred left my side and made for the base of the mizzenmast. He turned and reached out for me, his words almost whipped away in the cacophony of sound. “Come, Sam, quickly, before the next set comes through.”
    I trembled with fear, unwilling to leave the security of the binnacle, knowing that failing to move would mean I would eventually drown there, swept away when my strength failed me. Taking a deep breath and encouraged by Fred, I let go of the binnacle and staggered across the sloping deck, reaching Fred just before another wave hit. I clung to the mast.
    “To the shrouds,” Fred said, pointing to the starboard side of the ship. I was amazed that the guns still remained there, along with most of the stores, but from my position I could see the ropes starting to fray. Soon those heavy guns and goods would be swept across the sloping deck, taking me and Fred with them. We would have to be quick.
    “You go first,” Fred said, giving me a push that I had no time to resist. I scrambled up the sloping deck towards the bulwarks, catching hold of ropes that secured the guns and pulling myself on top of them. My knees bled – I had skinned them getting up the deck – but I was momentarily safe.
    “Go on, up the shrouds. I’ll be behind you.” Somehow, Fred had joined me.
    By now I was almost beyond endurance and it was only with a great deal of determination that I hauled myself onto the shrouds, clinging as the ship shivered and shook in the water, making the shrouds sway and vibrate. As I brought my foot up, the rope moved beneath me and I found myself stepping into air. Below me, Fred grabbed my foot and guided it onto the rope. I climbed up slowly, my heart hammering in my chest.
    Moving up the shrouds took us higher but it did not take us away from the raging sea, for the ship was leant far over the water; when I looked down all I could see below me was the grimy grey of the waves, the white of the caps and the broken bits of the ship being tossed backwards and forwards.
    “Higher!” Fred yelled from below me, but the truth was that I was frozen in place, unable to go further. I tried to speak but my jaw was clenched so tight that I could not get the words out. “Come on, move!” He tugged at my fingers wrapped tightly around the rope.
    At that moment there was a loud crack from above me followed by a chorus of screams. I gripped the shrouds tighter as a broken yardarm fell from the top, carrying with it several men. The yardarm hit the water with a great splash, and some of the men were instantly knocked from it. I watched in horror as they were swept away. One man still clung to the wood: it was Private Gardner. He clutched at the yardarm as it was fetched away from the ship, bouncing in the rough waves, and I prayed that he would be able to maintain his hold and be carried to safety … but the savage sea plucked him from his salvation and he disappeared beneath the waves.
    I stifled a cry. He had caused me pain and yet I wished no ill of him. He had to have been only ten years older than me and his life had been unfairly cut short.
    “There’s no time for misery,” Fred said into my ear, for he had now come alongside me. “Keep moving higher.”
    I looked up. Ahead of me was the mizzenmast top in which many men already sheltered. Above them were still more seamen, holding fast to whatever they could. There was not much room left in that precarious safety.
    “Help will come soon,” Fred said. “The pinnace and the cutter have got away. They’re making for the signal station. Help will come soon if we just hold on.”
    I could only believe him for I had nothing else on which to pin my hope. Reluctantly I moved forward, reaching for the handholds as if in a dream, my mind as frozen as my limbs. Reaching just under the shrouds, I could go no further. Fred must have known I had come to end of my endurance for then he straddled my body, pinning me to the shrouds so