Post by Versesai on Dec 23, 2021 12:15:29 GMT -5
Being out upon the sea was a thing that truly made some sailors feel their most alive, a curious exaltation of the freedom of being trapped upon a fishing boat with a single sail and two rowing positions with it's greatest feature, small wooden 'cabin' built around the bottom of the mast to keep the sailors dry and warm if they needed, barely able to accommodate the supplies they had aboard, neverminded the two bodies of the sailors themselves. It was both a pure and absurd idea of freedom and yet it had stolen the hearts of countless ostensibly bright and reasonable souls.
Defining 'bright' and 'reasonable' when it came to the boat's current 'captain' was, then, the primary challenge. Draped in back of the boat itself, his head was resting on the port side of the boat next to the lug for an oar, while his lanky body was stretched across the entire rowing seat so that his feet were crossed at the ankles and propped against the starboard wall. Sail patches, neatly bundled into a stack, were propped behind his head and he had a map tucked into his bed, a compass laying atop it to keep the wind from catching it. There was a calm, steady breeze flowing over them and the sail was easily controlled by the ropes keeping it at it's current angle, meaning that there was positively no reason he couldn't enjoy a little time to relax.
He was aware it had turned dark, clouds blocking out all moonlight, but they were safe. It wasn't exactly like they were in uncharted waters, this was a stable sea between two small islands and they had to be miles away from their destination if the marker lighthouse between their destinations hadn't shone in his eyes yet. Sound, logical and a complete justification of his own mild laziness in not getting up and actively navigating the ship. Given his position on the ship he was also capable of guiding the rudder, holding it with one of his hands, just enough to keep it mostly steady and straight.
Yes, it was evident that Galles was 'quite' a 'captain' at this moment, though he at least wasn't asleep. That would have been the nail in the coffin of any credibility he might pretend to possess.
"Mmn...Myrrh? Hey, Myrrh!" He called into the night air. It wasn't a yell, precisely, but a stout enough voice to be heard over the chopping of the seawater smashing into and retracting from the boat and anything nearby. The boat was hardly big enough that Myrrhean could hide from him even if she were so inclined, but it was more to make sure she could be interrupted from any reverie she might have. "Do we have any of that mallow left?" he asked after a reasonable amount of time had passed. One of the benefits of having a botanist as a partner was that he could reasonably expect they would have some sort of fresh fruit or vegetable left. At least, he thought he'd seen some the last time he'd looked at the tiny barrels on deck, most of which Myrrhean had purchased when they were last in dock.
He didn't really understand plants in the same way Myrrhean did, and he'd been understandably confused by a lot of what she purchased, but he was at least proud of himself for one purchase related to her work; An entire crop of seeds that a merchant had claimed could be grown in saltwater and produce edible crops even at sea, as long as they had soil to grow them in. He understood inherently that it was a bit far fetched, but he trusted if it was true then his Myrrh could grow it; And it had turned out to be, for the most part, true enough. They weren't in much danger of starving at sea for now, at least.
Before he could get his answer, however, Galles felt something touch the boat. It was the odd feeling of counter momentum, the ship continuing to move as something underneath it scraped the opposite way...and as he opened his eye, Galles felt the boat lurch abruptly and slam into something. His head snapped up and he tumbled off the bench, his compass flying up into the air and he rolled onto his back on the bottom of the ship, groaning as the compass thudded onto his chest. The boat was no longer moving and Galles took only a few seconds to right himself, leaning up onto the port of the ship and quietly standing.
They were on land. Not a little bit of land or a sand bar, but somehow they had apparently run completely aground. It was black all around, hardly enough light to see past his own space, but he knew Myrrhean had the lantern for just such an occasion and he slowly stepped towards the door of the 'cabin', opening it. "Myrrh? You okay?" he called, peeking his head into the cabin now.
Defining 'bright' and 'reasonable' when it came to the boat's current 'captain' was, then, the primary challenge. Draped in back of the boat itself, his head was resting on the port side of the boat next to the lug for an oar, while his lanky body was stretched across the entire rowing seat so that his feet were crossed at the ankles and propped against the starboard wall. Sail patches, neatly bundled into a stack, were propped behind his head and he had a map tucked into his bed, a compass laying atop it to keep the wind from catching it. There was a calm, steady breeze flowing over them and the sail was easily controlled by the ropes keeping it at it's current angle, meaning that there was positively no reason he couldn't enjoy a little time to relax.
He was aware it had turned dark, clouds blocking out all moonlight, but they were safe. It wasn't exactly like they were in uncharted waters, this was a stable sea between two small islands and they had to be miles away from their destination if the marker lighthouse between their destinations hadn't shone in his eyes yet. Sound, logical and a complete justification of his own mild laziness in not getting up and actively navigating the ship. Given his position on the ship he was also capable of guiding the rudder, holding it with one of his hands, just enough to keep it mostly steady and straight.
Yes, it was evident that Galles was 'quite' a 'captain' at this moment, though he at least wasn't asleep. That would have been the nail in the coffin of any credibility he might pretend to possess.
"Mmn...Myrrh? Hey, Myrrh!" He called into the night air. It wasn't a yell, precisely, but a stout enough voice to be heard over the chopping of the seawater smashing into and retracting from the boat and anything nearby. The boat was hardly big enough that Myrrhean could hide from him even if she were so inclined, but it was more to make sure she could be interrupted from any reverie she might have. "Do we have any of that mallow left?" he asked after a reasonable amount of time had passed. One of the benefits of having a botanist as a partner was that he could reasonably expect they would have some sort of fresh fruit or vegetable left. At least, he thought he'd seen some the last time he'd looked at the tiny barrels on deck, most of which Myrrhean had purchased when they were last in dock.
He didn't really understand plants in the same way Myrrhean did, and he'd been understandably confused by a lot of what she purchased, but he was at least proud of himself for one purchase related to her work; An entire crop of seeds that a merchant had claimed could be grown in saltwater and produce edible crops even at sea, as long as they had soil to grow them in. He understood inherently that it was a bit far fetched, but he trusted if it was true then his Myrrh could grow it; And it had turned out to be, for the most part, true enough. They weren't in much danger of starving at sea for now, at least.
Before he could get his answer, however, Galles felt something touch the boat. It was the odd feeling of counter momentum, the ship continuing to move as something underneath it scraped the opposite way...and as he opened his eye, Galles felt the boat lurch abruptly and slam into something. His head snapped up and he tumbled off the bench, his compass flying up into the air and he rolled onto his back on the bottom of the ship, groaning as the compass thudded onto his chest. The boat was no longer moving and Galles took only a few seconds to right himself, leaning up onto the port of the ship and quietly standing.
They were on land. Not a little bit of land or a sand bar, but somehow they had apparently run completely aground. It was black all around, hardly enough light to see past his own space, but he knew Myrrhean had the lantern for just such an occasion and he slowly stepped towards the door of the 'cabin', opening it. "Myrrh? You okay?" he called, peeking his head into the cabin now.