Chapter 42: Night Battle Part 1

The boat bumped up against the derelict. Sir Shillingsworth jumped out and fastened the rope, then helped Cal on board. The rowers handed them the bags of coal and the thin metal sheathing Cal hoped would shield the deck long enough to get the cannon up to pressure. Last came a mess of rope and blocks Thomas had put in the boat.
"All right, get back to the ship before dark. You were fine all the way here; you'll be safe on the way back."
The sailors saluted, then spun the boat and headed back. The large boat moved into place; Cal and her father took the ropes. She watched how Sir Shillingsworth fastened his rope and copied him. Thomas leaped onto the derelict and looked up the mast. He climbed up carrying the blocks and rope on his back.
"Let's get the shield in place." Cal picked up one side, her father the other. They half-carried, half-dragged it through the tangle of weeds covering the deck. Sir Shillingsworth cut away the weeds near the mast and they settled the shield in place. Cal found pieces of wood to put under it, and when it was steady she emptied two bags of coal onto it and spread it out. She looked up at Thomas.
"Ready?"
"There's a spare here I can rig the blocks to." He tied them in position with heavy rope, then dropped the other rope which he'd fed through the main block. Instead of climbing down the mast, he slid down the ropes. Over on the boat, he fastened the smaller blocks to the chains welded in place on the cannon. He took one rope and Henrichs the other, pulling them through until they were tight.
Cal got a complete picture of the principles in her head. The more blocks the less strength to pull the rope, but much more rope to haul.
Cal and her father went to help. They had to pull a lot of rope through the block and tackle to move the cannon, but as she expected the weight wasn't unmanageable. The ungainly thing dragged over the gunwale of the boat, letting water into the boat before scraping on the deck. As it got closer to the mast, it lifted and swung until it hung over the shield.
They lowered it into place. Only a foot or so of space separated it from the massive wood mast. The mast would be enough to stop the cannon when it fired. Thomas unhooked the ropes from the tank then moved the chains so he could fasten ropes to them. He found solid places to tie the block, then tightened the ropes until creaking made Cal wave.
The cannon squatted on the deck aiming down toward the water.
"Can we lift the barrel a bit more?" Cal sighted down it. "I don't want to hit the water with the harpoon; it will bounce."
The other three hauled on the ropes holding the barrel pulling it up until Cal waved her hand.
"Tie it off. Any further, we'll bend the barrel." She lifted the bar she had fitted to work the valve. With the wrench, she tightened the bolts holding it, then Thomas cranked it further. Her father poured oil over the coal and lit it while Henrichs filled a bucket of water to start filling the tank.
The sun dropped below the horizon as the four demolished the food cook had sent with them. Coals glowed red under the tank. The pressure gauge started to move upward.
An oar had been rigged on a rope to splash on the surface in line with the barrel of the steam cannon.
"We'll need to take turns watching the pressure. From the thickness and weight of the tank we should aim for 250 psi before firing the cannon. As soon as we get close to pressure we'll start on the oar to call the serpent."
"Yes, ma'am." Henrichs said.
"You don't need to say that." Cal flushed. "I'm not even a full engineer."
"On this ship, you're Captain." Henrichs gave a twisted grin. "Though I have to say, I've seen nicer ships."
"All right." Cal closed her eyes and focused. She let the plan flow through her mind like pencil on paper. I'm insane, Pentam was right. "Henrichs, take first watch. Father, second. Wake me as soon as the pressure gets to 200. Thomas pull up doors, hatches whatever and make a shield between the cannon and the stern deck. No one goes near the tank once it reaches 100 psi. If it blows, it will be at the valve and the mast will take most of the damage. If the deck under the cannon starts smoking, run water beneath it. It wouldn't be a bad idea to run a bucket under it every so often anyway."
"Anything I'm missing?"
"Weapons." Sir Shillingsworth slapped his sword. "With luck, we won't need them."
"Good thinking." Cal put her fingers to her forehead.
"I have my harpoon with me." Henrichs picked her way to the boat and lifted it out. She tossed a hook on a three-foot handle to Thomas. Henrichs pointed at Cal. "You're the one running the cannon. Focus on that."
Cal nodded, but found a stick and laid it down beside her. She didn't think she'd sleep, but her eyes closed as soon as her head hit her arm.
***
Sir Shillingsworth watched his daughter sleep. He tried to remember when he was that young. It would have been his second trip out with Harrison. The old man put up with his naïve ideas. Harrison would have loved Cal, but he was lost when his ship went down in the icy polar sea.