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Navy, he controlled the purchase of everything concerning the King’s ships. Everything from rum to salt pork; timber to trousers for the men. All of it was bought from private contractors; all bought, Ramage thought bitterly, with “a token of our esteem” being sent by the contractors to people like Hamond. More than a hundred dockyard men should have been working on the
Calypso
for more than seven days. What
were
they doing? Where had the Commissioner sent them? That many men in seven days could probably build a house, Aitken had said. Did one of the Commissioner’s friends now have a new house on Gad’s Hill?
    The First Lord finished writing a note, rang a small silver bell and gave the sheet of paper to the clerk who hurried in. “Give that to Mr Nepean. I want it ready for signature before noon.”
    Once the clerk had left the room, St Vincent said: “I deliberately left you in command of the
Calypso.
Have you wondered why?”
    â€œNo, sir,” Ramage said, trying to guess the reason for the question.
    â€œYou don’t lack confidence, young man.”
    Something in St Vincent’s tone angered Ramage and before he could stop himself he said: “Captains lacking confidence usually put their ships up on a reef, sir.”
    â€œQuite,” St Vincent said amiably. “I was commenting, not criticizing. Your skin is too thin. However, your new orders. You rarely carry out my orders in accordance with their wording—”
    â€œBut always in the spirit of their meaning, sir!”
    â€œâ€”their wording,” St Vincent repeated, ignoring the interruption. “Where do you stand on the post list?” he demanded.
    â€œAbout tenth from the bottom, sir.”
    â€œAn admiral tenth from the top of the flag list is more tactful when speaking to the First Lord.”
    â€œI apologize for my manner, sir.”
    â€œBut not for your words, eh? Anyway, your new orders concern something where it is highly probable that your views and the Board of Admiralty’s coincide.” There was a hint of a smile round St Vincent’s mouth. “They are also the first orders you have ever received in time of peace.”
    Ramage recalled previous encounters with St Vincent and his predecessor as First Lord, Earl Spencer. Always there was the heavy emphasis on his disobeying orders, but it seemed more a question of “give a dog a bad name” because the orders were always
carried out.
That was the important thing; no senior officer had ever told him to do something and then had to blame him for failure. The trouble was that senior officers soon regarded themselves as omnipotent. Instead of simply writing orders telling the officers what was to be done, they went into details of
how
they were to be carried out, and that was the mistake. No one could anticipate every circumstance. It was the man on the spot, the captain of the ship, who had to make his plans according to the situation he found. Surely a general did not order a colonel to capture a particular fort and tell him by what highways, tracks and byways he was to approach it. Perhaps generals did …
    â€œDo you know anything about surveying?”
    â€œ
Surveying,
sir?”
    â€œObviously you don’t; the word has paralysed you. Well, you can go through the Marine Department and get some instruction from the Hydrographer, Dalrymple, or his assistant, Walker. You need to know how to survey an island and chart its waters.”
    â€œAye, aye, sir. A large island?”
    â€œNo. Perhaps a couple of miles long by one wide.”
    â€œDo any charts or maps exist, sir?”
    â€œA rough chart; nothing to rely on.”
    â€œMight I ask—?”
    â€œTrinidade.”
    â€œTrinidad? Why, there’s—”
    â€œNot Trinidad,” St Vincent said testily, “but Trinidad
e.
” He was careful to emphasize the second “e” by pronouncing it as a