There was nothing quite like the harbor in full swing, Sam had decided. With all of the salt and brine, the noise and shouting, and the high likelihood for a person to pick up colorful new swears just passing through, it truly was a sight to behold. It was wild to think that this was considered one of the smallest harbors in Kanto. Rare was the ship that carried actual passengers; for Pallet Town could barely be considered a hub for trade let alone tourism. What was equally rare was the wooden behemoth the League had chartered to take them to Cinnabar Island.
Sam chuckled to himself as he finished his pace count along the docks; it was a silly thing to do considering he could just ask the Captain how long the ship was, but there was something to be said about actually walking its length that gave him a better feel for its size. It took him thirty-five steps from stern to bow. Sixty-four steps was one hundred meters, so with a little math and rounding Sam came up with roughly fifty-five meters or one hundred and eighty feet. That put the ship longer than the tallest building in Pallet Town stacked twice on itself.
His hand shaded his eyes as Sam gazed up at the many ropes and tied off sails so far above him. It was truly a wondrous sight, but weren’t sailing ships notably slower than their modern counterparts with engines?
Sam poked at Blaine before pointing up at the sails.
“Why are we taking an old-school boat again?”
Blaine looked up thoughtfully before shaking his head. “I’d guess, but I’d probably be wrong. Don’t want to sail the wrong information your way.”
“Are you going to do the pun thing the whole time?”
“Yep!”
Sam whacked Blaine on his arm, but further bickering stopped upon a shadow falling upon them from behind accompanied with a gravelly cough.
“What do you lads know about the ocean?”
The man speaking to them could only be described as “grizzled”, with a weather-beaten face standing testament to what was likely decades battling the elements of the open ocean. His skin was tanned and leathery, but with wrinkles that bent in good humor as he smiled down at the two young men. Rough and calloused hands gripped the edges of his dark peacoat, the thick fingers layered over to the point where Sam imagined he no longer required gloves.
Blaine was quick to respond and began rattling off random tidbits that he likely had acquired over weeks of reading in preparation for the journey ahead.
“Well, I mean, it’s huge enough that it covers well over eighty percent of the surface of the planet with hundreds of species, many of which have yet to be discovered or studied, living in it. There’s supposedly a bunch of ruins down at the bottoms of some of the bigger trenches which are bigger than some of the tallest mountains, and even a bunch of volcanoes which some scientists are thinking are what created the islands and even some of the regions because -”
“Woah there, woah there, hold on a tick, my lad.” The man’s voice carried a deep authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed and was colored in an indeterminable accent. “I wasn’t asking about what the books tell ye about the oceans, I was asking what you knew.”
Sam thought Blaine almost looked hurt as his information stream had been halted partway. He watched his friend’s mouth twist in awkward silence as he tried to wring out something cohesive. As what was obviously the Captain’s gaze drifted over to Sam, however, his brain quickly emptied itself of all logical thought as the sudden green and blue washed away everything he knew.
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With a mighty clap of enormous hands, the Captain began to roar in laughter. “Looks like you lads haven’t spent any time out on the water, have ye? She’s a wonderful thing, she is. A living, breathing creature! And just like any other living creature, she demands res-PECT!” The last word was spat and a harsh glare raked over several of the other ships in the port and the Captain’s tone began to take on a harsh undertone. “Her children seek to live their lives in peace. In quiet. Untouched and unpoisoned by belching metal and screamin’ engines that roar their ilk throughout the depths like a pod of Wailords in calving season.”
The Captain’s heterochromatic eyes grew wild as he gestured wildly at his ship. “Ye ask why I sail in a tub that’s seen enough replaced planks and tar that naught but the figurehead remains of what it once was? Because I don’t think I care for these damned new things all skippered and crewed by electricity and oil. All that new fangled gear’s gonna be of no use when you’re off a southern cape and the ropes are freezing onto your hands. And don’t even get me started on that radar shit! Oooooo, OOOOO! What was that blip? Was that another ship? A deadhead? Or was it a Jellicent comin’ for me and my crew? Shit like that’s a life or death situation, lads, and I tell you now that the Sea isn’t fair or kind. She simply IS, and she demands res-PECT.
Now, tell me lads. What do you know about the ocean?”
Sam managed to stammer out meekly in the face of the storm that was the Captain. “It demands respect, sir.” His shoulder was subsequently bruised by the hammers that were in the place of the Captain’s fingers.
“Aye. That’s right, me lad. SHE does.” Vice-grips dug into Sam’s clavicle. “Now so long as you never forget that, you’re welcome upon my ship! Follow me and come aboard and I’ll introduce you two to my first mate! With only the ten of us, we can’t let you able bodied men stand idle, now can we? Come lads, and I’ll make fine sailors of ye yet!”
With firm grips that belied no other response, Sam and Blaine were marched straight up the gangplank much to the amusement of everyone that had gathered to listen to the old Captain’s rant. A few voices called out from neighboring ships as they made their way up.
“Oi, Salty, you’re gonna lose out on some prime work in the name of respect while we snap up every contract from here to Orre! Slow she blows the Ocean’s Dandy!”
“Looks like Saltsbeard’s got himself some new deckhands!”
“No better way to gain your sea legs than pulling at the rigging!”
Captain Saltsbeard simply ignored all the jeers and catcalls as he deposited his newly acquired volun-tolds before another giant of a man standing by a blue and white frog-like Pokemon with arms nearly as thick around as Blaine’s legs. The man’s voice rang out like a clear bell as the Captain approached.
“Captain on deck!”
There was a brief moment as the other sailors upon the ship snapped crisp salutes, but the moment passed quickly as the crew resumed whatever tasks they were busying themselves with.
“Lads, this is Teodor. He is the first mate of the Ocean’s Dandy and our helmsman. Teodor, these two lads are guppies who’ve graciously volunteered themselves as cabin boys. I’ll leave them in your capable hands for the first leg. See what you can make of them!” With a clap on the back that nearly sent Sam and Blaine tripping over the deck, the Captain turned his attention to Dean and the rest of their families that were still awaiting down below and ushered them aboard as well.
Teodor sighed and ran a meaty palm that was just as calloused as the Captain’s through his bleached hair. “Looks like you two were unfortunate enough to catch the Captain’s eye. He’s done this every time we happen to take on passengers, and then has the gall to wonder why we aren’t asked to do it more often. I suspect that you two aren’t actually volunteering, so feel free to say as much. There’s no expectation that paying passengers actually do any work while onboard beyond staying out of the way and going below decks when asked. This here is Fjord, what are your names?”
“B-blaine.”
“Sam.”
“Well, what about it? You tell me that you wanted nothing to do with being a cabin boy and I’ll have a word with the Captain and nothing will come of things. But if you actually did agree… well, berre bok gjer ingen klok.”
Sam and Blaine shared a look between them before looking back at Teodor in confusion.
“Ah, my apologies. It’s a saying from where I’m from. Merely a book does not make you wise. So, what do you say?”