Smith watched as the confused crew raised the blue-and-white cross.
“French?” Henry Ramsley queried. “We’re not bloody French! Is the captain going to make us French?”
“Stow it!” Carman snarled. “The captain knows what he’s doing!”
You’ve more faith in me than I have, Thomas!
You’ve more faith in me than I have, Thomas!With her French lines and the French flag fluttering from her mizzen, Maid of Kent stood towards the whaling ship.
Maid of Kent“Hand me the speaking trumpet,” Smith ordered as the two vessels closed. He could see the white blobs of curious faces on the French ship and knew her master would be scrutinising him through a telescope. A stray gust of wind blew the stench of whale oil toward him, reminding him why these vessels were known as blubber ships and why other ships
