Free The French Admiral by Dewey Lambdin Page B

bar in two, so deep draft merchantmen an’ warships use the south pass. With our two-and-a-half-fathom draft, we’d most like be safe up there, but anythin’ bigger’n a fifth-rate’d spend a week gettin’ off.”
    â€œIt’s big once you’re in, though,” Avery observed, looking at the chart past the entrance they were discussing.
    â€œLike the gunner told the whore,” Alan whispered.
    â€œLet’s keep our little minds on seamanship, awright Mister Lewrie?”
    â€œAye, Mister Monk, sir,” Alan replied with an attempt at a saintly expression.
    â€œNow look ya here,” Monk went on, tapping the chart with a stub of wood splinter for a pointer. “Once yer in, there’s Lynnhaven Bay. Un from Cape Henry ta Old Point Comfort, due west, mind ye, ya got deep water an’ good holdin’ ground. But—and mind ya this even better—from ’bout a mile north o’ Point Comfort an’ from there up ta these islands at the mouth o’ the York River, ya got shoal water at low tide, and this shoal, they think, sticks out damn near thirty miles east, pointin’ right at the heart o’ the entrance. So ya can never stand too far in at low tide or on a early makin’ tide without ya choose Lynnhaven Bay er bear off west-nor’-west for the York, er up nor’-west into the bay, itself.”
    â€œSo the best places to base a fleet or squadron would be either in Lynnhaven Bay or in the mouth of the York, sir,” Avery said.
    â€œRight you are, Mister Avery, right you are.”
    â€œWhich is why Cornwallis and his army have marched north from Wilmington in the Carolinas, to set up a naval base to control the Chesapeake,” Alan said, marveling.
    â€œUn right you are, too, Mister Lewrie.” Monk beamed, proud of his students. “Either way ya enter, ya got ta choose Lynnhaven Bay, York River, er further up, but if ya take that route, ya gotta be aware o’ this here shoal comin’ outa the north shore o’ the Gloucester Peninsula north o’ the York, so that cuts yer choices down even more. I’d never stand in further than ten miles past Cape Henry afore choosin’, and God help ya you ever do otherwise yerselves if yer ever in command o’ a King’s ship, Lord spare us.”
    â€œAnd there are no markers or aids to navigation?” Forrester asked.
    â€œNary a one, sir,” Monk replied. “Mosta the shippin’ roundabouts is shallow draft coasters an’ barges ta serve all these tobacco wharfs on the plantations, er carryin’ trade ta Williamsburg further up the James, so up ta now, there wasn’t no need fer ’em. But, up the James er up the York, er way up the Bay, it’s the world’s best anchorage ta my thinkin’ for a fleet.”
    â€œThen why haven’t we set one up here before, sir?” Carey asked.
    â€œThere’s not much ta the Continental Navy, in spite o’ that fight we had in the Virgins last month. Biggest threat was de Barras up in Newport, an’ the North American Squadron covers them. Most o’ the fightin’ was around New York or down in the Carolinas. But now this bugger de Grasse is on his way here, we’ll control the place.”
    â€œAnd with ships here in the Chesapeake, we’d be free to range from way up here on the Patowmac and Baltimore down to Norfolk and the entrance,” Alan said, smiling. He could see what Clinton and Cornwallis had in mind. “We’d cut the communications from Washington and Rochambeau to his southern forces.”
    â€œA nacky plan, ain’t it?” Monk said, as though he had thought of it himself. “So ya all look sharp as we work our way inta the bay, and y’ll see the Middle Ground, all swirly like a maelstrom sometimes. Two leadsmen in the foremast chains by four bells o’ the forenoon, now we’re in soundin’s. And we’ll