"Gunner's party!" came the order. There would be salutes and ceremony as they joined the fleet of Admiral of the Blue, the Earl St Vincent. Kydd, as Tenacious's signal lieutenant, roused out the signal flag locker and found the largest blue ensign. He smiled wryly at the thought of the hard work he knew would be there for him later: the signal procedures this side of the Atlantic would be different and he would need to prepare his own signal book accordingly.

Ahead, the dark body of the fleet against the backdrop of enemy land slowly resolved into a long crescent of anchored warships spreading the width of the mouth of a majestic harbour. As they approached Kydd identified the flagship in the centre, the mighty 110-gun Ville de Paris, her admiral's pennant at the main.

To seaward of the crescent a gaggle of smaller ships was coming and going, victuallers and transports, dispatch cutters, hoys. A sudden crack of salutes rang out, startling him at his telescope. Answering thuds came from the flagship.

Now opposite Ville de Paris, Tenacious backed her main topsail, but an officious half-decked cutter foamed up astern and came into the wind. An officer with a speaking trumpet blared up, "The admiral desires you should moor to the suth'ard of the line." Obediently Tenacious paid off and got under way for her appointed berth.

Kydd marvelled at the extraordinary sight before him: the grandest port in Spain locked and secured by a fleet of ships so close that the great ramparts of the city were in plain view, with a wide sprawl of white houses glaring in the sun, turrets, cathedral domes—and a curious tower arising from the sea.

At the end of the line they rounded to and came to single anchor, the newest member of the fleet. Captain Houghton's barge was in the water even as the cable was veered. Resplendent in full dress with best sword and decorations, he was swayed into it by yardarm tackle and chair, and departed to report to the commander-in-chief.