Sunday Week 3 of shipyard.
Allen slept in until his alarm went off. It was 7:00 am and he had only been in bed for 6 hours, and only slept for about 5. He was dreaming of Cindy just before he awoke. He longed for another opportunity to be alone with her. “Fat chance of getting privacy now.” He said to himself without realizing it as he thought of life on the ship. He was still apprehensive toward her. He feared rejection more than anything else. There was still something that he feared about her. Perhaps he was just afraid of losing her.
The ship wasn’t visible from the door of the barracks to the door of the mess hall. Allen craned his neck to see if the tall ship would be visible, but it hadn’t been. Todd and Maddux were in the dining facility when Allen sauntered in. His mouth began to water as he inhaled the scent of bacon and cheese. He made a sandwich on a toasted bagel out of eggs, bacon, sausage, and melty sharp cheddar. It was going to be messy again, but he didn’t care. He sat by his friends and contemplated how easy life was going to be while living on the ship. They talked about Captain Harvey. He was a big mystery.
“Did you get a load of that eye patch?” Maddux asked in hushed tones. There was hint of a giggle in his voice.
“Of course I did. Where do you think they found that guy?” Todd asked in return.
“The patch was real. Or he’s been wearing it for a long time at the very least. His forehead has a crease where the strap lay.” Allen suggested.
“Maybe he’s a cyclops.” Shupe said as he came into the room. He was closer to his former self, but the rest of them were still apprehensive toward him. Allen laughed at the Oh Brother Where Art Thou reference, but the others did not.
“Sorry about being an asshole.” Shupe offered as he grabbed some grub and headed over to sit by his old friends. Careless banter filled the place. None of them had any important things to say, and they were all weary to the core.
“I wonder what’s going to happen to the shipwrights.” Allen said when things had quieted down. Nobody commented. They all stared at their breakfast in silence.
There was a local high school band assembling outside at 9:30. Things were being prepared so that the galleon could be placed in the water at 10:00. Everybody had a chance to board, and get a photo taken of them in the crow’s nest, but few took it. Everyone was off the boat except Captain Harvey, and a handful of sailors that showed up when no one was noticing. They were dressed like old time sailors. They looked like a rough bunch. Allen wondered how many of them were Spanish like mister Montoya.
The band played as they maneuvered the Fluor Marie into the ocean. There were several mooring lines tied to her as she hit the water and lifted off the multi-sectioned vehicle. It was anticlimactic compared to the video that Allen remembered about berthing ships.
“I guess that’s the modern way of launching them.” Allen observed out loud as he looked into a camera and winked. “No splashing.”
The fanfare continued until it was tied up at the pier, and the supplies started to fly in. The christening would wait until the following weekend.
No one was expected to work today. The people that were going to go to church took off while the rest of them looked at the ship and mingled with the people involved in her production.
Debby was observed hanging on the arm of one of the BYU engineers. That would explain the change in Shupe. At least partially.
The Ute's gear was brought on board and organized, but that was the extent of their involvement. The captain had assigned the sleeping arrangements for them, and there was a little sign indicating where each of them would sleep and put their gear. Everyone got the option to sleep on the galleon, or in the camp one more night. Allen chose to sleep on the ship. Most of the rest chose to sleep at camp.
After shuffling and stowing gear, they headed into town for the evening. They had escorts that reminded Allen of Mennonites. He took Cindy out to dinner at the Texas Roadhouse. They and some of the others were dressed in pirate gear and they got more attention than they wanted. They signed a few autographs until the Roadhouse management put them in a private room. They ate in relative privacy but everybody seemed to be taking photographs of them with their phones.
Monday Week 3 of shipyard.
Allen awoke several times during the night but got up when he figured he could not sleep anymore. The smell of oatmeal filled the air. There was a rough crowd eating and talking about the show. They were the regular ship crew that were going to be running this pleasure cruise. They had been introduced yesterday, but Allen had forgotten most of their names. He knew that the first officer was Rick something, but he referred to him as Gomer part 2. The rest were teasingly referred to as the boat people. He knew he would get in trouble one day for making nick names, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed like forever until everybody was on board and Captain Harvey had them assemble on the main deck. Most of the cameras needed for the show were controlled by the gremlins. They were an AV crew that were hidden away in their little dungeon at the back of the ship.
“Gentlemen!” Captain Harvey started. His voice was gravelly, and it gave the sense that he had been a smoker for the past 60 years. He seemed to be ignoring the women all together. “We are about to embark on an incredible journey into the unknown. On my ship you do things my way. If you find it too difficult to do things my way, you will be put off the ship. If we are at sea when you are put off the ship you may be given a longboat, or you may not. If you are being instructed to do something by one of my sailors, then you are being instructed by me.”
He paused and took a bite from a pear and chewed it most of the way up before swallowing. “There will be no hanky-panky on this ship.” he barked. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Harvey explained. “Everybody works while we’re at sea. We will do combat drills, and location finding drills. We will raise and lower the sails many times. We will make way and stop all throughout the gulf. We will continue with the drills until I say so. We will destroy our enemies at my pleasure.”
He took another bite from the pear. “Anyone who chooses cowardice over fighting will be put in the brig. Understood?” He asked, and he surveyed them all. “Then let’s get to work.” He shouted the last part, and his sailors sprang to life giving orders and setting up crews to learn the ropes. The deck of the ship became a hive of activity. The Utes forgot how to have discipline when the strangers were giving orders, but they quickly relearned.
A small mob of people shoved the ship off from the peer, as the crew worked together to raise sails. The small breeze seemed too small to push the heavy galleon from their position, but it slowly took hold as they worked their way out of the channel, and into the open water toward Mexico. It seemed like they should be headed toward Florida, but what did they know?
They worked the sails in shifts as they were instructed on how to optimize their heading's direction, and how to trim the sails. The angle of the wake changed a little each time they got a sail angle right. Travis looked like he had died and gone to heaven. Gomer 2 was barking orders from the pilot’s wheel, and they followed directions as well as they could. The constant handling of the ropes was exhausting, and it would have made instant blisters on any one of them a couple of months ago, but they were holding up relatively nicely with the gloves.
As soon as they got the boat moving at a good velocity they would tack and were required to do it all over again. They also had drills where they climbed the ratline to the crow’s nest and looked through the glass at the horizon, and other drills where they took knot readings. At high sun they found their latitude by using the sextant like they were taught.
After the sun had reached its apogee, the drills were changed up to include sighting the target ship, and shooting one of the cannons at it, and marking the spot where the ball hit. None of it was as easy as it was on land, and that was before anybody started to get sick. Only one or two shots hit the boat at all. There were unpredictable waves breaking beneath the galleon, and some of the college students were getting seasick on a calm ocean. Morning would be coming early tomorrow. This pleasure cruise was going to be a lot of work, and not for the weak.
They continued on with their duties well past lunchtime. It was getting dark before they turned and headed northward again. It wasn’t strait north either. They were headed north by northeast. When the sun was touching the water Allen guessed at where they were but had nothing to verify against it. The drills lasted all day, and the Utes were doing the lion’s share of the duties. The boat people seemed like they were just there to yell at them when they did it wrong, which was most of the time. Everyone had forgotten about the early points that they were getting. Even Allen.
The target boat, 2 camera boats, and many private craft seemed to be shadowing them all day. They were all too busy to show off for the other boats, cameras, or anything. Everybody on board forgot that they were being recorded for most of the day. Their minds were busy with other things. Focusing on the job at hand, or even the pain that it inflicted.
Everyone was famished by the time they were allowed to eat. It’s a good thing none of them werehypoglycemic, or they might have passed out on the deck. They enjoyed stale bread with grated parmesan cheese on it, and a thin beef soup that was barely more than broth. They would need more breakfast, and a snack to keep going like this. Allen began to miss the yummy goodness of the camp.
“I guess that stage of my life is in the past.” He stated out loud.
By the time they went to bed they all had sore hands and arms. None of them had big blisters though. It seemed like the only comfort that they had was their shared misery. For the most part they were able to laugh it off.
Every one of them awoke at least once with a start before falling to sleep. Allen hated that.
Tuesday Week 3 of shipyard.
Allen woke up with a sore back. There was an odor that hung in the air that told him that someone must have gotten sick in the night. Everybody in the sleeping quarters were sleeping. Everyone was accounted for except Maddux Martinez. It might have been him, or he might have been in the galley since he wasn’t in his rack. Allen pulled down the cargo net that kept him from falling out of bed in the night and made his way to the galley for breakfast. He found Maddux talking and laughing with the boat people. There was no food out. He started to worry that he might not get breakfast.
“When can we eat?” he asked absently as he rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes.
“Not til later.” One of the men said. “Get used to it.”
Allen didn’t want to get used to it. It reminded him of his early childhood when there wasn’t enough food for him and his brothers, and mom and dad went without eating entirely. Maddux just shrugged his shoulders.
“How much later? I can’t just get Uber eats.” Allen reminded them.
Maddux laughed, but the boat people didn’t have a sense of humor. “Later.”
Everyone was split in to 2 groups to run the ship and do target training. They switched off to give their muscles a chance to recuperate. It wasn’t nearly enough time to do that, but the tight feel of his skin over his muscles told him that they were expanding. It was a couple of hours before they each received 2 hardboiled eggs and a strip of bacon. Allen decided to save one of the eggs for later. It came in a zip locked bag, so he placed it in his pocket and hoped it didn’t get too mashed.
Gomer got mad at Cindy for practicing with her swords on one of the practice dummies just before apogee. She practiced on her own time, but Gomer didn’t seem to care about that. She followed orders when told to stop but complained that she wanted to be fine-tuned for her confrontation with the Cougars. Her pleas fell upon deaf ears.
When Todd found out about her getting in trouble for practicing, he confronted Rick about it.
“What gives Ricky?” Todd asked. “Why can’t we practice on our own time?” Rick got mad and Todd for standing up to him. He lowered him to the sea in one of the longboats. He told him to keep up, and the Fluor Marie was leaving him there bobbing in the ocean in the longboat. Allen didn’t find out about it until Todd was about 50 yards away. He started a commotion, and Gomer threatened to put him out of the boat, and into the sea as well. Allen removed his swords, holster, and prop guns, and dove into the ocean to go be in the boat with Todd who was yelling something incoherent from behind the ship. Todd began to paddle quickly when he saw his friend dive into the sea. The deck was a lot taller than it looked, but not as high as when at dry dock. Allen had dove from far greater heights than that, but it stung his shoulders, and then his eyes when he hit the sea water below. He swam toward Todd in the longboat as the splashes of Shupe, Titus, Blake, and Travis followed suit. There weren’t any sirens, or shouts of Man Overboard, like he would have expected. Instead, Fluor sailed on, and the men and Todd closed the gap between them. Todd pulled them into the longboat when they arrived, and they shivered in the breeze as Todd tried to get them dried off and warmed up. The blistering hot sun did little to warm their wet bodies. It took quite a while for the shivering and panting to stop. Allen pulled the egg out of his pocket and offered to split it with them. They each took a tiny bite except Todd. Allen noticed that the bites that they took were all very small.
They rowed after the ship for a few minutes until the futility of it became apparent, and then to the north. They were rowing together for some time before they appeared to have moved closer to the land. “Where are all the yachts?” Allen asked. “Where is the camera boat?”
“Where is the coast guard?” Travis asked, and they shared a laugh that betrayed their worry.
Just then there was a cannon volley from Fluor. When they turned to look at it, they noticed another longboat in the water. It had 2 people in it. It was obvious that it was the girls. They turned and started rowing toward them. They rowed hard even though they were several hundred yards away.
“I’m going to kill that bastard.” Todd said as they hurried toward the girls.
“Not if I get him first.” Was the consensus among the men.
When they finally closed the distance with the women they tossed a line to them. Cindy caught it and they pulled her over to them and the women got in to the longboat with the men. Rachael had been crying. The tears were gone, but the grief was still there, and she shuddered every few minutes. Cindy was stoic. They hooked the second longboat to the back of the one they were rowing and towed it as they bobbed and rowed toward the Texas coast. There were no microphones or cameras in the longboats, so they spoke freely.
“We should provision the longboats in the future.” Shupe suggested. “In case this sort of thing happens again.”
Todd gave Rachael a big hug, pulling her into his chest and consoling her. She began to sob again shuddering wildly at first, and then calming. Todd shushed her and rubbed her back as he hugged and consoled her.
“We ought to mutiny.” Blake said as he glanced at the rest of them for agreement.
“How?” Travis asked. “They sailed off and left us to die out here.”
“No one’s going to die.” Titus asserted. “I’ve been a couple of miles from land fighting the current and was still able to swim back home. We can see land from here, and we have a boat. Don’t get the girls worked up like that.”
Travis didn’t let on that if the wind wasn’t being cooperative, they would be swept out to sea, and neither did Titus. It did seem to calm the rest of them that didn’t realize the potential peril that they were in.
Blake was a big man from the Netherlands, but the reassurance from Titus was the one thing that reassured him that they weren’t going to die out here. He was sure the ship would stop and get them when he jumped into the water, or he wouldn’t have done it.
4 men would row at a time, and they would switch off when they got tired. Cindy took a turn every now and then too, but Rachael didn’t. No one was keeping track of how much each of them was sacrificing for the team. They were nearing the shore by the time the Fluor Marie could be seen splashing up toward them to rescue them, and they were still far off. If they had rowed just a little harder, they would have been on the beach sipping margaritas before the rescue arrived. Allen was angrier than anything, and Todd was out for blood.
It seemed like hours until the boat returned for them. It could be seen tacking in the distance as it returned at a snail’s pace. Allen knew that the captain hadn’t started up the big diesel, but when he saw that the angle of the ship was coming toward them, he knew that they weren’t in any real danger. He was still curious as to why the captain seemed to refuse to start the big caterpillar engine. He started to think that it must have some sort of malfunction or something.
When the ship finally arrived, Fluor dropped her sails, and stopped in the water just outside where the longboat that had the students in it was parked. They tossed a line to the ship and were towed to her, but after they got the students out of the boat no one would lift a finger to help get the longboats stowed as per Gomer’s orders. The 6 men figured out how to get it done and got both longboats put away and covered.
“If you ever do anything like that again…” Todd whispered to Rick. “They will never find your body.”
Rick got an indignant look on his face, but it was obviously forced. He had a slight eye twitch that Allen watched as he postured for a minute, and then went up to the pilot’s wheel and away from Todd as he seethed. None of the students were allowed on the command deck without approval from Gomer or the Captain.
Allen put his swords and props back on. He was just slipping the second prop into its holster when he heard Cindy chopping away at the practice dummy again. He couldn’t believe how brazen she was. She definitely didn’t have any fear. Her actions agitated him this time. She didn’t seem to want to be a team player today. At the same time, he admired her tenacity. She wouldn’t be a good opponent. No matter how she behaved he was grateful she was on the Utes side.
Gomer went over to her to talk, and several of the Utes followed so they could eavesdrop.
“You need to stop fighting that thing.” Rick said to her. “Why don’t you go lay in your cot and think about it, or I will have you thrown in the brig.”
Cindy stopped hacking at the dummy and glared at Rick for a few seconds before stowing her swords and complying with his orders. All of the onlookers scurried back to their positions as he started back toward the stairs. Todd and a few of the other smokers smoked their pipes or cigarettes in the smoking area and ignored him as he went back to the bridge. Todd glared at him when he had passed. This wasn’t over. The bully inside Todd had reawakened. But this time it was like he was a bodyguard.
A hundred years later it was finally time to eat dinner. Everyone was famished from the hard work. It was like when Allen was young, and they would go swimming. He would be finished by the time food was finally eaten. For supper they had some thin chilly and stale sourdough bread. Cindy wasn’t there. She was still in trouble, and riding out her personal storm, probably at her bunk. Allen fumed when he thought about her treatment. He wanted to be her knight in shining armor.
When Allen did his evening sextant reading, he guessed where they were on the globe. They had moved to the west about 25 miles today by his reckoning. The backtracking cost them several hours. The galleon was faster than he thought it would be. He looked up at the flags blowing in the breeze. They streamed to the east as the ship tacked this way and that against the wind. They were majestic and beautiful. They looked good together. A stray puff of wind would gather them up and sweep them in a different direction, but they stayed together like an old couple holding hands. Never straying from their lover's grasp.
“Fire!” Came the announcement followed by the boom of one of the big guns at the front of the ship indicating time for the flag ceremony, and jarring Allen from his daydream. It was then that he noticed that the salt in his clothes had caused a good deal of chaffing. He would need to clean all the salt from his skin and get cleaned up before bed, or the problem would be really bad by morning. They did the pledge of allegiance but left the flag flying. Instead of bringing it down and stowing it for the evening they turned on some lights that shone on the flags and illuminated them. Allen anticipated looking at them in the night.
Captain Harvey could be heard yelling at Rick through the closed door, and into the sleeping quarters. None of the muted words could be made out, but there was definitely shouting going on.
“So, what happened today?” Andrew asked and broke the relative calm of the eavesdropping students.
No one spoke for a while. Cameron finally broke the occasional silence in the muffled shouts from the captain’s quarters. “Well, Cindy was being Cindy, and she was whittling at the one practice dummy, and Ricky didn’t like it, so he told her to knock it off.” He began. “She didn’t stop for a few seconds though, and then he was really mad.”
“I was in the middle of a combo.” Cindy explained.
“So anyway, she hits the thing a few more times and Ricky says he’ll kick her off the boat.” Cameron continued.
“Ship.” Several of them corrected.
“Right, ship. And she looked at him with contempt in her eyes, and he wanted to throw his weight around. The next thing you know, Todd the cavalier steps in and says something about being victorious and Ricky puts him in a boat and lowers him into the water. I thought he was bluffing, and he may have been, but Todd loosed the boat from the hoist and drifted back.” Cameron started to chuckle. “I thought Ricky was going to crap himself, but he was committed to his bluff now. Todd called him out and drifted away. Silently. As I watched in disbelief.”
“Then Allen comes up and sees the boat drifting back, and he jumps in the water. Boots and gloves, and all. Again I watched in disbelief. Todd starts rowing toward Allen, and other guys jump in the water. I looked for Sandoval to see if this was something that they’d planned out. I wasn’t jumping in that water, there might be sharks. They live in the ocean by the way. You guys are crazy.” Cameron stopped looking absently at the bunk over his head and turned to talk through the cargo net at the edge of his bed. “And then when they were all in the one boat Rachael reminded Ricky that this was a television show, and that we aren’t real pirates. She called him a stupid bastard, and, well he must have thought he was in for a penny, in for a pound, because he had her put in another of the boats and was lowering her down when Cindy hopped in with her.”
Rachael was crying again. Todd got out of his bunk and went over to her. Cameron paused his story hoping someone else would tell the part where Rachel was suffering from a nervous breakdown until Cindy jumped in the boat to rescue her, but no one stepped up. He decided to skip that part.
“So, then we sail off with half the longboats out to sea. Ricky just watches them get further and further behind, and I can’t believe nobody stops the madness. I figured it must be staged since all of the chase boats and stuff are not doing nothin, but it’s not. Then when the captain finds out he gets all pissed and threatens to have Ricky walk the plank. I didn’t know we had a plank, and if we did, I didn’t think that was real.”
Rachel’s sobbing alternated to crying, and back to sobbing. Todd was helping her to keep it together, but every once in a while she would let it all out. Cameron wondered if he should be telling the whole story, but it didn’t seem to matter now. The cameras would show the whole thing eventually.
“Where were you during all this?” Blake asked.
“Ricky had us go below decks. I went and opened one of the rear cannon doors and looked out at the 2 boats. When Captain Harvey found out they abandoned ship we turned around and came back. He got us on deck, and we had to trim sails and stuff.” Cameron confessed.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Why didn’t he just start that big Caterpillar engine? He could have got us in no time.” Blake asked.
“I don’t think he realizes it’s there honestly. He didn’t even use it to shove off from the pier.” Travis offered.
“After the Captain had his cameo for the day he went back down, and Ricky made you guys get the 2 longboats stowed and covered without any of our help… You guys know the rest.” Cameron concluded.
“And Cindy gets put to bed without dinner.” Cindy reminded them. They shared a weak laugh at her comment.
Allen removed himself from his bunk and went over and talked with Cindy. She looked hungry, and slightly emaciated. “I should have brought you some gruel to enjoy from your bed. I’ll sneak you some food next time. I’ll get some now if you like.” Allen offered. She shook her head.
“Don’t risk anything like that for me.” She pleaded.
Allen looked into her eyes in the dim light. They looked at each other as the ship creaked and swayed. He knew that he would risk everything for her. Talk continued about the rules on the boat, and whether this was something they had signed up for or not. Everyone seemed to have a different idea of how things would be on the ship. None of them had expected this. What would happen if the entire crew resigned?
When there was a door opened and shut above the sleeping quarters, and footfalls headed toward them Allen winked at Cindy and went back to his bunk. Todd didn’t even make a pretense of leaving Rachael’s side as the cook came over to Cindy with a couple of Styrofoam containers with food in them and plastic silverware.
“I’m sorry about the meals lately. We have a menu we need to stick to for the first week on the ship. It will get better, and everybody gets to enjoy a week of this food, so think of that when you’re in combat.” He said, and he left.
“Well, that changes things.” Allen thought out loud. “We’ll strike while they’re weak from starvation.”
Wednesday Week 3 of Shipyard.
Allen awoke with a start which startled some of his peers. He was having a dream about sharks and a kraken of all things. At the time it seemed to be real. He was in absolute terror as the Fluor Marie was being pulled beneath the surface and the sharks were licking their lips in anticipation. He was embarrassed as he tried to explain it to the people who were teasing him about it until he gave up and went on deck. Allen noticed how picturesque the ship was as it plowed its way through the water. The light that shone on the twin standards didn’t have any dust in it so it was invisible until it was reflected back from the flags, and from the nearby sails and rigging. Water lapped at the sides of the ship as she eased through the water at 4 knots. When the sun peered over the distant surface, he took a sextant reading and made his calculations with the almanac. They were at the same longitude as before. They were maybe 9 miles or so south of Galveston. He wished he could verify his calculations. They spun around and started heading into the wind again right after sunrise.
Their duties started at sunrise, and they went to breakfast in shifts. They enjoyed the same cuisine as yesterday. This time several of them saved an egg, and some of them saved half their bacon as well. It was good that the cook gave them the heads up about the food. Allen wondered if he would get in trouble for it later. He most likely would. Allen planned on hitting the Y either Wednesday or Thursday. Whenever he felt the weakest. They would be their weakest a week after that.
The target boat pulled up and they blasted propane blanks from the cannons at it on command. Their hit ratio was still poor at best. Maybe 1 shot in 15 hit, and it just barely hit at that.
London looked directly in to one of the fixed cameras while they fired at the target ship. “Can I have a meeting with someone in the AV room please?” he asked. There was no way to see a response, but his question was answered a few minutes later when one of the AV gremlins came out from under the bridge, followed closely by Sara. She had taken over duties of a few of the interns that were leaving the project, so she had been busy lately.
“What do you need?” The gremlin asked.
“When we shoot the cannons, we can’t see where the shot hits. We don’t get feedback in time to realize what we need to do to correct it.” London stated.
“Yeah. So?” The gremlin asked.
“So, I want to mount a monitor by the cannon doors, or by the cannon someplace so that when we shoot, we can look to the monitor and see where it hits. Then we can make corrections and get better.” London explained.
“We can’t.” the gremlin explained. “There isn’t any cable out here for that, and we can’t just mount monitors all over the ship. This is supposed to look authentic.”
“Yes, there is. We added cable.” London explained.
“And we can mount a small monitor out of view of the cameras.” Sara asserted.
“Can you please help with this Sara?” London asked. She nodded and took the gremlin with her as she left.
By the next time London was on the cannon deck the gremlin was nearly finished installing a monitor by the aft port cannon. Sara was there assuring him that he could do it. The poor fellow lacked any confidence. He thought he was going to get into trouble.
The next time he got down to the cannons it was mounted and running. There was a small control to adjust the brightness, and it had a cardboard hood to make it visible in the bright sunshine that shone through the cannon door hatch. The angle could be chosen from 1 of several views while firing the cannon, but not from the station where the monitor was mounted. The target ship was nearly centered when he fired the big gun, and the color-coded shot went high, and wide. There was no way it went where it appeared on the screen. London got down and looked at where the lazar optic was pointing. There were calibration screws and settings, and it was set up way off the mark. Probably at the factory settings. It just needed to be calibrated. “I need a tweaker.” London said into the camera. “A small screw driver.” He corrected. Maybe he could get it by the next time it was his turn to fire the cannon.
Before he got the opportunity Rick apprehended him and had him put in the brig for not doing his assigned job.
“The cannons need to be calibrated.” London told Allen when he went to see what was going on and was sent to see him in the brig.
“What do you mean? Sighted in?” Allen asked.
“Yeah. I have a monitor set up at the port aft cannon that shows where the calculated shot hits. It’s clear in the ocean, high and wide aft. The lazar scores the shot way to the aft and high. I bet they’re all that way. Get a small screwdriver from Sara or one of the AV gremlins and make adjustments while you’re in there. It should be pretty strait forward.” London explained.
“I’ll try.” Allen assured him.
“Do, or do not. There is no try.” London said, and they both laughed at the reference.
It took a few times of Allen’s turn at the cannon to get it set up right. He made huge adjustments at first, and then fine-tuned it to where it hit where it was intended. After his 3rd bullseye in a row Gomer got in his face.
“What are you doing to that cannon?” Gomer shouted causing Allen to jump, nearly drawing a sword to defend himself from a teammate.
“Calibrating these sensors.” Allen reasoned.
“This isn’t the time for that. Get back to work or I'll have you thrown in the brig.”
Allen didn’t feel like arguing and opted to salute him instead.
“Rick!” Captain Harvey shouted. It caused both men to jump.
“Sir!” Rick stated flatly. Biting off the word. Allen stayed at attention with a slight swivel to his stance. Captain Harvey was even more intimidating up close.
The captain returned the salute but with a nonchalant manner that betrayed his authority. “This man is trying to correct o problem on the ship. Instead of punishing him for his initiative you should get him some help. Hold off on the drill until the problem is corrected.” Harvey scolded.
“Yes sir.”
“When you speak to the crew on my ship you are speaking as my mouthpiece. Be wary of your words lest you get yourself booted from the ship.”
“Aye captain.”
Allen wore an expression that was someplace between guilty conscience and a giggle. It wasn’t hard to tell that he held animosity toward Rick.
Captain Harvey had permanent creases where the eye patch thong lay across his forehead as he expected. Even the wrinkles in the area seemed to be chased away as they avoided the string it had been there so long. The tanned leather of his face was white in the deep wrinkles that only manifested themselves when he distorted his features in anger like he did at Rick.
It seemed like only minutes after the Gomer confrontation until Todd was in trouble for whacking at the practice dummy. Allen thought he was just egging him on, and he probably was. Everyone knew Gomer hated it when the practice dummy was struck. Perhaps he was diverting the attention off of something else. Gomer was busy chasing the Utes around the ship getting mad about this and that.
London was still in the cage when dinner was served. Thin grits and portage never tasted so good. It seemed to be all you could eat, so all but the most finicky participant had seconds, and some had thirds. Allen was one of those. He loved grits, and they even had brown sugar that he loaded them up with.
Shupe suggested that they get a vending machine.
Rachael suggested getting a soft serve ice cream machine.
Any of them would have been happy with rice and thin gravy.
London wound up spending the night in the brig. Rachael brought him a couple of big Styrofoam containers of dinner just before bedtime. She talked with him in hushed tones for a little while before leaving him in the dark cell.
Thursday Week 3 of shipyard.
Allen woke in the middle of the night with another bad dream. He was sweating profusely, and he seemed to be thrashing but it didn’t seem to disturb the rest of them. They must be exhausted Allen thought. The dream was about them being chased by a great white whale. Moby Dick had destroyed the beautiful Fluor Marie and was chasing them toward shore as they paddled furiously to escape. It took several minutes of deep breathing before he was able to calm down. He lay flat on his back listening to the creaking of the ropes, and the popping of the sails, and the gentle sounds of the water lapping on the hull. None of the wave sounds came through the hull but down the stairs rather. The sleeping compartment was huge, and the minimal crew only used a small portion of the beds that were there. He tried to see how much empty space was in the room, but it was too dark to make anything out.
While they were seated for breakfast Gomer took it upon himself to separate the participants into two groups. Rachael reminded him that London was still in the brig. He got a worried look on his face and sent a sailor to get him out. “This Gomer is worse than the first.” Allen said as the sailor hurried off. Rick just came over and put his nose close to Allen’s nose and crunched his eyebrows up. He didn’t intimidate him at all. There wasn’t anything that could make him afraid of this poser.
“I’ve just about had it with your lip. You seem to think that you are some sort of hot shot, don’t you? You would do well to just do what you are told. I’m watching you mister.” Rick said before turning on his heel and scurrying up the stairs like a cockroach.
Allen worked with London’s tutelage, and they managed to calibrate the port cannons to the point where they could get a bullseye 95% of the time on each of the ones they corrected. They would still need fine tuning once they could do testing from land. Allen also learned about lazar optics when viewed through a prism, and the different infrared and ultraviolet frequencies involved with each of the guns. The speed of light from cannon to target combined with radio frequencies and telemetry were automatically calculated instantaneously by the computers on both ships using real time and reflected light and ping rate to gauge distance. Velocity was determined by simulated charge and caliber with vectors for wind, humidity, and temperature corrections. All of the calculations were automatically tabulated, and no one tried to alter the charge from maximum. A simple change of the fire angle would be all the correction that was needed.
Once they had finished with them the crew were able to target the ship easily enough. People were given the same cannon to fire every time so that the error in sighting could be easily offset by where they were sighting them from. If the vertical and horizontal aiming was aligned properly, then the only variables would be the amount of powder, and the range to target. Since the cannons were continuously firing a full charge of powder it caused the amount of consistency to rise. Quickly now that the guns were sighted in.
There were only 5 screens available to mount to the ship, so Sara ordered 30 more. The surplus would be used for spares.
Once again there was no lunch. Everyone was feeling the effects of the poor diet. Drew and Fish seemed to get the worst of it. Drew looked like he was suffering from a bad case of ketosis, and Fish was just too skinny for any fat reserves to tap into.
The sextant training seemed to be going well especially for Allen who was gaining insight from Travis’ familiarity. The rest of the class were doing well as well. Probably because it didn’t use a lot of energy. Everyone was sure to take as much time as needed to get a reading from the sun. It also seemed to be the only reprieve from hoisting and trimming sails, and climbing the rat line to the crow’s nest, and then back down. Allen hated the new Gomer. It seemed like he was trying to be a pain in the asset.
Cindy got in trouble again for practicing on one of the practice dummies on her off time. No one got kicked off the ship, or even thrown into the brig this time. He seemed to be trying to keep things in order, but Gomer’s authority was definitely waning. If you asked any of the crew, they would tell you that he had little man syndrome. His personality was that of a big fish in a little pond that got dumped into a big pond and was going to Find Out.
“We could increase the smoke from the cannons if more diesel fuel were added.” Andrew said offhand when they were finally able to eat dinner. “That and add more air. Probably decrease the propane so that it looks more realistic.”
“That would have been good to know while we were at the shipyard don’t you think?” Titus asked.
“We have got to go back anyway. Besides, I thought of it while my mind was wandering. It didn’t do that at the shipyard. We were too busy.” Andrew explained.
Allen wondered if the changes could be made when they got to port. Someone could definitely look into it anyway. “Mr. Remington.” Allen blurted. He looked into one of the cameras that was mounted to a support beam. “Sara, could you contact Mr. Remington and have him look into it? Have him consult Andrew so they can exchange ideas and information too please.” After he finished speaking, he greedily tore back into his rice and beans. Yep, rice and beans.
Cindy started to wonder aloud about the wisdom of getting on the water early. Many of the rest of the crew agreed that it may not have been. Until Captain Harvey came down into the galley and addressed the crew.
“These trials will be over soon enough. Put yer big girl panties on and suck it up.” He began. “All the teams have the same crappy food fer a week on de ship. Just a few more days and it’ll be over. Consider that when we be blastin Emma to kingdom come.” Then he turned and left.
“Emma must be what the Y named their boat.” Titus guessed.
“Ship.” Several corrected.
When dinner was done, they milled about. Cindy was finally given an opportunity to work out with the practice dummies. She imagined that they were all part of a boarding party. She spun and jabbed them. She hacked and slashed. She even kicked them once in a while. When she spotted London, she beckoned him over to her and sheathed her wooden blades. Sweat glistened on her not so pale skin.
“Is it possible to wire up a camera or 2 anyplace on the ship?” she asked him.
“I suppose, but not the captain's quarters. There’s nothing to tie too there.” He explained. “Where did you have in mind?” he asked.
“Oh, someplace for security. That sort of thing.” She dodged.
“Yeah, most likely. Talk to one of the AV gremlins. They can hook that up most anyplace.” London suggested. “But if you want them to listen to you then you need to get Sara involved. She can get things done. She has clout everywhere.”
“Thanks.” She said, and she continued with her exercise.
Friday Week 3 of shipyard.
Allen awoke to the soft sounds of water lapping at the ship as the rigging occasionally cracking and creaking. He wondered what direction they were facing. They seemed to be going west during the day, and east at night. The ship had little tilt and wasn’t crashing through the waves so the wind must be mild this morning. There wasn’t any vomit smell in the sleeping quarters, so the smell of corn wafted its way to his nostrils. His mind began to anticipate some kind of corn on the cob, and his hunger was instantly magnified. It smelled way better than normal. He doubted it was as wonderful as the corn on the cob that his mind was anticipating. He had the added advantage of making it the first night he slept clear through until morning. He was refreshed and energetic as he made his way to the galley and found grits for breakfast. His mouth watered as he anticipated eating, until his first bite. They were as plain Jane as any grits ever. They didn’t even have salt. This was also the first meal that he remembered being able to eat when he wanted to, instead of when he was told to. He couldn’t think of a way to save any for a snack either. He considered putting some in his pockets but thought against it. “Your mind thinks of funny things when it’s starving.” He said absently. He half expected Maddux Martinez to be there before him after thinking about it. He looked around but didn’t see him.
London continued with his monitors and calibrating the cannons during the drills until Rick saw him wasting time and he had him thrown in the brig for his efforts. The rest of the team continued with drills in his absence, and covered the position like they would if he was a casualty. Allen worked on the cannons without any reprimand.
The warm spring breeze turned sour just before apogee. The sun was completely obscured by the stormy weather. A squall moved in quickly and stirred the sea up into a frenzy. The sails were trimmed, and the upper sails were lowered to protect them and the masts and rigging. It was amazing how quickly the bad weather affected the ship. It was a toy in Mother Nature’s tempest. Gomer assured them that this was just a little storm, but it still made things difficult. If it weren’t for the rough sandpaper like finish on the deck it would have been more difficult. Allen imagined falling and rolling on the abrasive surface. It would exfoliate the hide clean off your bones if you slid on it. Visibility dropped as the fine mist of rain started. The rain droplets were small, but it was such a constant pelting that it only took moments until everybody was soaked to the core. By noon forty-five there were people puking. Captain Harvey was on deck preparing the novice crew for the tiny squall and didn’t seem bothered by it at all. The only thing that seemed to bother him was people puking on the deck. He wanted them to puke over the side, but the ship was tossed so much that few dared to get that close to the edge for fear of being lost at sea.
Rachael was crying again when Gomer forced her and a few others from below deck to help out. There were so many hands-on deck that they were in each other’s way and bumping into each other as the deck of the ship would rise and fall in the turbulent sea was the first order of business. Allen thought it would be better to get some of the less capable hands below deck before they got hurt or got someone else hurt. Harvey seemed to agree. He barked an order to Rick to get the unessential’s below. When they had all of the sails that were on the top of the masts furled there were only 3 and the jib still flying. The jib was mostly furled as well, but it helped them go into the wind, and more importantly into the waves. When the rain finally ebbed some, there were only 3 regular sailors on deck, plus Captain Harvey, Rick, Travis, Allen, and Cindy. When Allen looked at the remaining skeleton crew, and Cindy was one of them, he knew he wanted to pursue a relationship with her. He wished he could talk with her father and ask permission to court his daughter. “How old fashioned is that?” he wondered out loud. Cindy asked what he was talking about. “Nothin,” he lied. It would most likely be hours before the rough water would calm down. Maybe not until morning.
Once again, they skipped lunch. It wasn’t such a big deal though since most of them were sick. They weren’t hungry anyway. It did make Allen wonder what the food restrictions had to offer if they had sea sickness. He wondered if they would just have to tough it out. He wasn’t sure he was that tough. Your perspective seems to change when you’re sick.
It wasn’t long until Cindy was practicing again on the dummies. The clatter could be heard easily below deck. The sound seemed to resonate through the floorboards. That must be how Gomer knew she was doing it. That was probably why he didn’t like it. It only continued for a few minutes before it stopped. Then Cindy was in the brig. She was in the cell next to London. When her jailer left her there, she pulled out one of the springy exercise handles and started working it. London just laughed.
“Why do you keep egging him on?” London asked.
“I’m stuck on this ship the same as you. You can be on deck working your butt off, or in the brig working your butt off. There’s little difference to me. Besides, it gives me a chance to talk with you.” Cindy reasoned. She displayed a genuine smile toward him for good measure.
“What if the ship sinks?” London asked. His voice indicated that he was more than a little concerned.
“Well, I guess we’ll get out of here, and get on a different ship.” Cindy replied. She didn’t have even a hint of fear in her voice. “Don’t worry about it. No one’s going to let us die in here.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right. They’ll let us die someplace else.” London responded as he tried to get his spirits lifted in the ever-increasing storm. They shared a laugh at his mirth.
After a few hours of the ship getting pounded by waves Rick came in and asked Allen if he would go up on deck and talk with the captain. It was dark on deck. Allen instinctively looked up at the 2 standards whipping in the wind. The light was shining on them from several angles. Some rain could be seen flying past them streaking by with the chaos of the storm and at crazy angles that seemed to defy physics. The flags must be made of something stronger than cotton. Allen thought they might be getting torn to tatters in the storm. Although it was still daytime the visibility was low. Allen went toward the bridge and up the stairs to talk with Captain Harvey.
“This is some storm.” Allen said to break the ice.
“Bah. This is a baby.” Harvey countered. “I’m just glad we got a chance to test er metal beefer we meet er foes.”
The rain and spray streamed off the captain's hat. The water that the hat didn’t catch just drizzled down his face. He either was unaware, or unconcerned about the storm. It spurred Allen on to see such strength in the face of danger. Perhaps this was just a little squall after all.
“What can I do for you Captain?” Allen asked at last. He turned to look in to the storm like the captain had been all along. He wished he had not taken off his swords and prop guns for the encounter. Until now he thought this was a hurricane, but it was only his fears playing tricks on him. He gathered strength from the captain. He looked over at him again and discovered that he wasn’t a giant after all. He might not even be a robot. Allen would have to see about that later on.
“I want you ter tell me why ye jumped in de drink yesterdy.” Captain Harvey asked. Allen looked him in the face again. The rain spray did little to affect the captain. Then he told him about Rick, and everything. He seemed unmoved by his words. Perhaps he was a robot after all. Harvey just soaked in his words, nodding and pursing his lips as he listened to the tale, and glanced at the compas occasionally.
“Verry well.” Captain Harvey said. And then after a minute he dismissed Allen to get back below deck. The driving rain had caused a chill that soaked to Allens bones.
“Someone's going to have to put some oil on the captain after this rain stops or the rust will seize him up.” Allen said as he approached his friends.
For dinner they had thin watery overcooked beans with some pork fat. It was delicious.
Rachael brought 2 large Styrofoam containers of dinner to the 2 captives. She handed them each a couple of napkins and plastic spoons as well. They enjoyed it as much as the rest of the crew.
“Sara told me to tell you that the gremlins are done with their job, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Rachael told Cindy and London.
“That’s the AV guys.” London clarified.
“Humph.” Rachael said as she headed out.
The beds in the cramped brig were smaller in every direction than their bunks. Cindy and London did their best to sleep but not much would be had. It was dark in the 2 cells. Dark as pitch. And at some point, in the night there was a small disturbance that made London think there were rats on board. The disturbance was gone after a few seconds and didn’t return. Maybe he imagined it.
Saturday Week 3 of shipyard.
Allen awoke to the sound of female sobbing. It was muted and subtle. He undid his cargo net and went over to where the sobbing was coming from, and it was as he suspected. It was Rachael. She wasn’t handling this voyage very well. The area was so dimly lit that nothing could be made out clearly.
“Are you alright?” Allen asked. He knew everything wasn’t alright. The sobbing stopped and she rolled over in her bunk. She had her pillow muffling her sobs. The nodding of her head was barely perceptible in the faint light. Allen held her hand through the cargo net webbing. It was damp from her tears. Allen felt awful. He put his other hand through the net and put it on the back of her hand to warm it up slightly. He couldn’t think of what to do. He only had brothers. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to console a woman who was crying. He thought about hugging her but was afraid it would be weird. He didn’t want to undo her cargo net for the same reason.
“I’m alright, really.” Rachael lied.
“Bull shit.” Allen responded. “Let me help you.” He said but didn’t have the first idea of how to do that. “What can I do to help you?” he asked after a short pause.
She undid the cargo net and put her arms out like she wanted to be held. Her bunk was on the bottom, so he stopped crouching, got on his knees, and scooched over and gave her a hug. She put her head on his shoulder. Her face was cool and wet from the tears that had been on them for so long. Her warm breath went down the back of his shirt when she exhaled causing the small hairs on his back to come up in gooseflesh. Her nose was cool and touched his neck. He thought for a moment that her snot might be getting on him, and he nearly freaked out. He rubbed her back and patted it like you might do to comfort a child.
“There there.” He whispered. “There there. Everything’s going to be alright. You’ll see.”
Rachael was on the verge of breaking down again. The storm had ebbed, so it was quiet and still. Allen wished that Cindy were here to do this. She would have a better idea how to console her. Cindy never fell victim to this sort of thing. She was tough as nails. She was wonder woman.
He held her from that awkward position for what seemed like hours. His joints were stuck when it was finally over. They tried to see what time it was, but it was still too dark. Allen gave her one last hug and went back to his bunk as she hoisted her cargo net back up and fastened it. He felt inadequate as a teddy bear.
For breakfast each of them was given a single hard English muffin. At least there was coffee, so Allen broke his in half to save some for later, and dunked the small half in his coffee and choked it down. He wondered how bad the real pirates must have had it. There definitely weren’t any that were fat, that’s for sure. He wondered if someone was going to feed the prisoners. He would ask later on in the day.
“Hey man, could you ease up a bit on the students?” Allen asked Rick as he scrutinized his hoisting of the sails.
“Do you want to be put back out to sea again? Is that why you’re asking?” Rick responded.
“Of course not. That doesn’t even make sense. What does that have to do with anything?” Allen asked in disbelief. Rick must have thought he was intimidating so he got into Allen’s face.
“Just get back to work.” Rick said from inches from Allen’s nose.
Allen started to laugh. It had been a long time since anybody could make him feel cowed down. Todd was the last to successfully do it. Sometime in the past month he had gained enough confidence that this sort of intimidation technique was useless against him. “You don’t frighten me Ricky.” Allen said as he went back to his duties. Rick just fumed. Allen was relieved that he remembered Gomer’s name this time.
The squall finally passed. it scrubbed all of the stink out of the air. The air was crisp and clean. They enjoyed the refreshing goodness of it as they hoisted the sails. Allen and Travis helped the others to understand how to get the sails to work more efficiently. Allen was some sort of natural at sailing.
They sailed north for about an hour, and Galveston Island came into view. They sailed around it and into the channel where they started from forever ago. They lowered some sails and trimmed the others to slowly move the ship into port. She glided effortlessly up to the pier where the celebration was to take place. They threw out several mooring lines and tied her off to the pier as the remaining sails were furled and stowed. The gangplank was put in place, and many of the students were able to set foot on Tera firma again. Allen and Travis stayed on board with the rest of the professional sailors until all of the sails were stowed and covered. When Allen set foot on the concrete slab just atop the pier he got down on his knees and kissed the ground. He hoped his actions didn’t hurt any feelings, but he was glad to be on American soil again. Only the captain remained on the ship behind Allen. He laughed a big belly laugh when he saw the young sailor give his kiss.
Pyrotechnic crews entered the ship from the gangplank and set her up for a fireworks show. Allen and the rest of his shipmates cleaned up. They hardly noticed the banners and signs that were strung up in their absence for the christening in the morning. They were happy to go to town unescorted. They were expected to be back by 9:00.
It seemed like everyone wanted to be part of the action. It made them feel like they were part of a big movie premiere or something. When the sun went down, and it grew good and dark they played the latest commercial on the outside wall.
#6. Country wide.
It started off with ship building for all the schools except the University of Utah.
Then it showed all the schools shooting cannons at target boats from gimbals.
Then it showed sword training for all of the schools except Utah again.
It showed different clips of the Utes fight song.
Then it closed out with Todd and Allen sword fighting. It had some different clips that weren’t previously in commercials, but it ended the same with Allen defeated. Kneeling, panting, and backlit. Bloody saliva streamed from his mouth.
Allen hung his head when they showed his anguish again, but this this time he hid a small smile that betrayed his grief. He wondered about people who had a promising career in show business that turned out to be a flash in the pan. Child actors for example. He hoped it didn’t come down to that for him, but he would try to focus on the reasons he did it in the first place. He should be able to get some of his loans paid down, and maybe get them paid off. He would be a project manager when this was done. He doubted that any quick successes in this program would hurt a career in construction management.
The University of Utah would be the big winner. For this week anyway. It turned out that none of the other ships made it out of dry dock until the previous day. That's 650 points for week one, and the other crews were going to be overworked and underfed. They took a heavy early lead that would push them through the conflict with the Y. They would gain street cred and prestige. Especially when they won. That was something to strive for.
Allen joined in the festivities. They had mock sword battles and fighting. They did the Utes fight song. They ate tons of greasy and deep-fried foods. They enjoyed the last week of training. From now on they were going to be competing for the prize. Allen looked at Cindy. She would be playing for keeps with him. He wondered how he could contact her dad. Sara would know how to get ahold of him. He had to have a talk with him.