"Sail ho! Hull down! Two points off the port bow!"
The lookout on the colonialist privateer Mary Martha had sharp eyes: The hull of the ship was over the horizon, with just the top of the sails visible.
Captain Nathanial Jackson wasn't sure whether the sail represented booty or danger, but he couldn't resist the possibility of the former.
"Mister Phillips! Come to port! Strike the top sails and the top gallants; we'll use the mains for now."
"Aye, Captain." Phillips, the First Mate, relayed the orders. He appreciated the tactic: The ships were still at least eight miles apart. Seen bow on, with just her fore-and-aft and lower square sails raised, and her own hull below the horizon, the Mary Martha would be much harder for lookouts on the distant vessel to spot, providing time for Captain Jackson to maneuver for advantage.
The weather was ideal: The wind was fair, visibility was excellent, and the deep blue sea was fairly calm, unmarred by whitecaps. The Mary Martha was sailing westward with the wind, out of Block Island Sound toward the open Atlantic. Block Island was two miles aft.
"She's a brig!" called the lookout. "On a closing course; beating to windward!"
The Mary Martha had the weather gauge; she was upwind of the other vessel and, with the wind on her stern, would be able to control the encounter. But the fact that the other ship was a brig gave pause to Captain Jackson. Not because of her size, although she was indeed likely larger than his brigantine, but because of her purpose. A barque was usually a merchant vessel. A frigate was usually a warship. A brig could be either. Which one was this?
"Tacking back, now," called the lookout.
The crew waited while the unknown vessel grew closer. If it was a British merchant ship, Jackson's letters of marque allowed him to attack and capture it. If it was a Tory privateer or a lesser British warship, Jackson might also attack, if the conditions were right and he could press the advantage. If it was a colonial or allied vessel, it would be left alone. But if it was a British ship of the line, it would be an interesting morning.
"Hull up!" called the lookout. He could see the hull of the other ship now. "She's a merchant vessel, sir!"
"Full sails, Mister Phillips," ordered the Captain.
Seamen scrambled up the rigging and hoisted the topsails back aloft. They were within six miles. Soon it would be too late for the other vessel to escape. Now all that mattered was her nationality.
"Red ensign! She's British!" called the lookout.
"Show the colors, Mister Phillips," ordered Captain Jackson. "Steady on the helm. Ready the bow chaser."
The Continental flag was raised. A gun crew loaded the long nine cannon in the bow, which would be used to attempt to damage the rigging of their target if it tried to escape.
The Mary Martha was now within four miles of the merchantman, and closing fast. If the British vessel tried to bear off to port or to starboard, the Mary Martha would compensate. If the merchant tried to turn and run, the Mary Martha would chase her down. She was trapped.
"Sail ho! Hull down, two points off the starboard bow!" called the lookout.
The presence of a second ship complicated matters.
"Orders, sir?" asked the mate.
"Steady, Mister Phillips," replied the Captain. "This is a time for calculation, not action. We don't even know if she's British. If she is, we still have choices: If she is another merchant vessel, we'll have to pick one. If she's a privateer or a small enough warship, we'll have to deal with her first. If she's a ship to be reckoned with, well, I reckon we'll reckon with her."
Phillips grinned. "Aye, sir," he said.
"Three masts, square rigged!" called the lookout, as the Mary Martha had closed to within three miles of the first ship. "Coming about to a closing course!"
"Does that give you pause, Mister Phillips?" asked the Captain.
"Well, sir, the odds are good that she's a warship. But she's still over eight miles downwind, beating towards us. We're probably faster than she is, and we can sail closer to the wind, so if we come about now, we'll easily escape. But if we maintain course, we'll be about four miles from the warship when we come alongside the merchant, and I don't see how we'll have time to even put a prize crew aboard the merchant before the warship is in range."
"Right you are, Mister Phillips," said Captain Jackson.
"So, do we come about, Captain?" asked Phillips.
"Not yet, lad," said the Captain. "Let the lookouts have their say."
They did not have long to wait.
"It's a frigate, sir!" called the lookout.
Still the Captain stood fast.
The Mary Martha was now two miles from the merchant vessel, which maintained course, apparently counting on the following frigate to protect them.
The lookout called down again, in a voice somewhat higher than before. "Royal Navy! The frigate is British!"
And still Captain Jackson stood fast, taking no notice of the obvious concern on the faces of the crew.
"Sail ho!" came the call for the third time that morning. "Amidships to Port!"
"Mister Phillips, how long do you reckon we can maintain course and before we need to turn away from the frigate to avoid their cannons? Can we pass the merchant and come about in trail?"
"I'm not sure, sir. We have to allow time for the maneuver, and we'd have to turn to starboard to avoid the third vessel, if that is your intent."
"It is not."
Phillips reconsidered. "Aye sir, with the wind aft to port, we can come about to port and fall into trail. "
"And if we jibe to starboard?"
"We'd bear away from both vessels, but we'd need to turn now, sir."
"I concur, Mister Phillips. Very well, then; prepare to come about to port and fall in behind the merchant. Have a starboard gun fire across her bow as we pass. Then follow closely, Phillips; I want to see the hairs on their neck."
"Aye, Captain. But the merchant, sir; she's slow. The frigate could catch us."
"I don't intend for that to happen, Mister Phillips. Set your course for the lee side of Block Island; have the bow chaser stand ready to encourage the merchant to maintain the same course if she wanders. If she's fast enough, we'll both get under the protection of the guns on Block Island, and she'll be our prize. If she can't keep up, we'll sink her as we pass."
"And the third ship, sir?"
"I think the lookout is about to tell us, Mister Phillips."
Once again, Captain Jackson was correct.
"Two-masted schooner astarboard!" called the lookout. "With a red headsail aft!"
Captain Jackson smiled.
"Captain?" asked Phillips.
"That would be my brother," said Jackson. "When he gets closer, signal him to join us. There's plenty of ocean for the two of us."