Dean King - A Sea of Words, Third Edition: A Lexicon and Companion to the Complete Seafaring Tales of Patrick OBrian

All men owe honor to the poetshonor and awe for they are dearest to the Muse who puts upon their lips the ways of life.

Homer, The Odyssey, book 8

I WOULD LIKE TO dedicate this final edition of A Sea of Words to Patrick OBrian (1914-2000), creator of the Aubrey-Maturin novel series. I have added many new entries for The Hundred Days (HarperCollins, U.K.; W. W. Norton, U.S.A., 1998) and Blue at the Mizzen (1999). It is for the better understanding and enjoyment of OBrians magnificent epic of the Royal Navy during the age of Napoleon that I wrote this book and Harbors and High Seas.

Macte Virtute, Patrick OBrian.

The placement of a tourniquet

Medical instruments

Map of Europe and Africa with Inset of Europe

Map of Indian Ocean

Map of East Indies with Inset

Types of Sailing Ships

The Decks and Square Sails of a 74-Gun Ship

The Fore-and-Aft Sails and Selected Rigging of a 74-Gun Ship

Masts, Sails, and Rigging

A Warships Boats

The Admiralty

Albatross

Auk

A ship running before the wind

Action off Camperdown

Cassowary

Captain Thomas Cochrane

Vice-Admiral Cuthbert Collingwood

The U.S.S. Constitution Defeats H.M.S. Java

Duck-billed platypus

Admiral Lord Keith

The Fleet Prison

Frigate bird

A sloop on duty near the Rock of Gibraltar

Cannon

H.M.S. Surprise cuts out the Hermione

Admiral Sir John Jervis, Earl of St. Vincent

Kingfisher

The new mole at Gibraltar

Napoleon Bonaparte

Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson

Points of sailing

Maylay proas in Coupong Bay

Topmen furling a sail

A first-rate ship of the line

A ship scudding before a heavy wind

A polacca with a view of Stromboli

A tartan near Europa Point, Gibraltar

A ship beating to windward under trysails

A ship wearing

Thames wherry

A xebec near the mole at Naples

WHILE WALKING FROM THE village of Buriton to Ashgrove Cottage, Stephen Maturin observes that the Hampshire landscape is ordinary country raised to the highest power. Indeed, the rolling, wooded South Downs of southern England are subtly splendid. But for the OBrian reader, this countryside is raised yet another notch in its appealby the author in the fiction he has set there.

Readers have many reasons to rejoice in the Aubrey-Maturin novels, for Patrick OBrian has the gift not only of raising the ordinary to a higher power but of making the extraordinary human. In his central characters we admire their honor, dignity, skills, and knowledge, and we empathize with their foibles and flaws. In his plots we escape into a world where etiquette and order seem to rule, relishing for instance the formalities of a Navy officers banquetand the inevitable transgression of those formalitiesand where even war has its civilities. And of course OBrian, his sense of humor never curtailed, frequently sends us into fits of laughter.

Of all things we admire, though, the most rewarding is perhaps the curiosity that OBrian inspires in us. For me, these novels have sparked many learning adventures, among them visits to Mystic Seaport, where I saw a capstan turned to a shanty and watched a mainsail unbent, to the Muse de la Marine in Paris, which displays spectacular 15-foot-tall ship models, and to the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, where the Battle of Trafalgar recurs in a narrated panorama through the stern window of a French first rate. On my way down to Portsmouth for a stroll on the decks of Nelsons Victory (whose round tumblehome greatly increased my appreciation for Maturins shipboarding talents), I even stopped in the village of Buriton.

It is in The Reverse of the Medal that Maturin alights here from the Portsmouth night coach one fine morning for a walk across the fields and through the woods to Ashgrove. I quickly discovered why, in addition to its proximity, he might have paid an extra three shillings to be dropped off in this quaint farming village. The famous historian Edward Gibbon (1737-1794), who lived in a manor house by the pond and across from the Norman rectory, once wrote, No more typical scene of 18th century England could be found. Its still true today.

After eating a full-cooked English breakfast at the Master Robert Inna walkers meal if ever there was oneI visited the villages peaceful flint-wall Norman church. The morning sun glistened on the dew-soaked tombstones as I prepared to strike off over the fields. Soon the sign for the South Downs Way, a national footpath, pointed up a tree-covered cart track, and I took it. As I dodged the deep, muddy ruts of the track, a covey of pheasants burst from a ragged hedge onto a cow pasture.

At the top of the cart track, I reached a lane guarded by two gnarly, silver-barked beech trees whose sagging branches were weighted by the half centuries they had seen. This was a lane that meandered over hills, through forests, and past farms. It was a lane for pleasant walking, and as my goal was to discover what I could about Ashgrove Cottage, a fictional place, I took my time. Like Maturin I was alone, and I did as I pleased. That included savoring ripe blackberries beside the road.

Soon I heard the clopping of horses. Around the bend, on big brown mounts, came four women in field boots and riding caps. Out front a perky, unblinking brunette greeted me with an irrepressible Hello, long on the first syllable. Behind her, side by side, were a sturdy, upright blond and a stout, silver-haired matron, the very countenance of the landed gentry, and bringing up the rear, a plumpish youngster. Surely, I thought, this was the Williams family out for a days ride. As I stifled a sudden desire to ask if they knew of a certain Jack and Sophie Aubrey, it occurred to me how delightful it is to go in search of fact and find fiction.

Eventually I reached Butser Hill, the highest point on the South Downs Way, and, looking south over the rippling Downs, I fancied I could make out Spithead and the Isle of Wight, just as Aubrey could from his observatory. My journey was well rewarded, and I couldnt help but think of Maturins words as he traversed the same countryside: Why do I feel such an intense pleasure, such an intense satisfaction? ... [H]e searched for a convincing reply, but finding none he observed The fact is I do (The Reverse of the Medal, p. 178). Im sure that Maturins profound curiosity and the opportunity to carelessly, purely indulge it were at least part of that intense satisfaction.

Indeed, curiosity seems to be a staple characteristic of OBrian readers. From the comments and inquiries that poured in after the initial publication of A Sea of Words, it became apparent that the book had merely wetted that curiosity. Hence, Harbors and High Seas: An Atlas and Geographical Guide to the Aubrey-Maturin Novels,