Sunday week 1 of shipyard.

Allen awoke to find that he was still wearing his billowy sleeve shirt. His face was plastered with dirt and sweat, and he had a peculiar smell about him that he didn’t like. This barracks was similar to the other, but not the same. He showered and put on deodorant before putting on his best get up. He liked the big new hat, so he put it on and attached his swords and belt before venturing out to find the coffee.

This place had a different odor to it. The morning air was cool and clammy, but it smelled of decay both biological and industrial. It smelled lightly of rancid fish oil, and heavily like heavy oil like gear oil or something, and diesel fuel. Cranes and industrial warehouses lined the narrow streets just outside of the makeshift camp. The fences of which were the type used in construction with the little stands that the fence was placed over to keep it standing upright. Where there were streets that you could look down there were slats inserted in the fence to discourage prying eyes, albeit poorly due to the gaps where the chain link left gaps.

There were fewer cameras fixed in place, and he began to worry about the security of his firearms. He decided to give them some attention and he went back inside where they were stowed. He was restlessly rummaging through things until Sara came in and told him where they were locked up. Then she quietly led him over to the new dining facility where they got some coffee and sat down. The clock showed that it wasn’t too early, but nearly everybody was sleeping late. There weren’t any fresh pastries. Allen looked over to Sara who explained that they would only be around while Edward was around. He skipped the bagel again and went over to talk with the new cook. The old one must have stayed at the other camp.

“How’s the grub here?” Allen asked as he went over to introduce himself to the cook.

“Better than the slop your friends at the Y will be getting.” The cook said. “My name is Anthony.” “I’m...”

“Allen.” the cook finished for him. “I think everybody knows you by now.”

They shook hands, and the cook handed him a small wooden sword and a sharpie. “Would you mind signing this for my son? He’s rootin for ya.”

“What’s your son’s name?” Allen asked as he took the items.

“His name is also Allen.” Anthony said.

Allen signed it with big loopy letters right by where the pommel met the blade. It read, “Allen, keep fighting the good fight. Allen Bennett. It was actually a well-made wooden sword. Much better than the crappy ones they were using.

“Thanks.” The cook said. “What would you like for breakfast?”

It was early for breakfast Allen thought, but when he turned to look at the clock Cindy and Rachael came in the door.

“What’s the schedule gonna be like on the docks?” Allen asked, ignoring the question.

“It’s a shipyard.” Sara replied from a back room.

Cindy and Rachael both grabbed some coffee and sat at one of the middle tables as Allen shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t care if it was a shipyard, docks, or shanty town.

“So, what’s the schedule gonna be like at the shipyard?” Allen corrected.

“Breakfast, work, lunch, school, dinner, sleep, repeat.” Sara suggested without bothering to enter the room.

“A breakfast burrito with bacon and cheese then.” Allen stated.

“Potato?” the cook asked.

“Please.” Allen answered. “But just a little.”

“Make that two.” Rachael added.

“Three.” Cindy added to that, and then they started to laugh.

Allen took his burrito and coffee and slipped out the door while the others were talking about the get together the night before. He wanted to get a lay of the land in his new surroundings. The fishy smell hung in the air, but the pungent diesel fuel odor assaulted his nasal passages and caused him to get a headache nearly instantly. He breathed through his mouth as he wove through the area and the smell had dissipated for the most part. The next thing he knew he was standing in an uncovered dry dock with a giant Spanish warship held up by some big stands. In his wildest dreams he hadn’t envisioned the boat being that big. This thing was huge. It had to be 120 feet long not counting the fore beam. It towered into the sky like a hulking relic from the past. From the bottom of the keel to the top of the mainsail was 150 feet easy. “How can it float upright?” Allen asked out loud without realizing he said it. The mere physics of the thing seemed askew. There was no way this could be real.

“What you doing here?” somebody shouted from behind Allen, and he spun to see if he was in some sort of trouble. There were 3 men running up to him so he started walking slowly toward them to show that he meant no harm, but his swords at his sides gave them pause.

“Just walking and looking.” Allen stated as he folded back more of the foil on his burrito and took another bite.

The 3 men ushered him out of there. Danny was forced to explain that they were supposed to be there. They were still mad, and Allen didn’t know why exactly. When he was headed back, he saw that the barricade hadn’t been installed yet for the students. They were supposed to stay at the covered dry docks where their boats were being made. He went in them and scouted around as he polished off the last of the burrito and put the foil in his pocket until he could find a trash can.

He could tell that the 2 ships that were being built were for the U and the Y, but they were identical in every respect except the color of the hue of the fake wood that the boats were made of. The 2 boats were even at the same stage of construction as far as he could see. They looked like they had little work to complete before they would be set free to roam the 7 seas. He deposited his burrito foil in a trash can at one of the dry docks before headed back.

Allen got back in time to do the flag ceremony. Sara had made sure that things would be in order for them to do one each day. She witnessed the ceremony as they did it but didn’t participate as usual. Allen, Rachael, Cindy, and the Cook took care of it. They didn’t go through the Utes fight song at the end though, since everybody else seemed to be sleeping in.

When Rachael and Cindy were fixing to do a walk around Allen tagged along. The barricades were up, and there was a Utes banner over their dry dock, and some men were putting a BYU banner over the entrance to the other. Some men were erecting one of those quickie construction type chain link fences between the 2 dry docks to separate the men from the boys as Rachael put it. They all had a laugh about that. Although it was Sunday there was a smattering of workers that came in just as they were walking out. They stopped and chatted for a few minutes before they went back toward the new Utah camp. Some BYU students were at the fence as they left but nobody seemed to want to talk with them.

Upon their return they had some more breakfast as the rest of the students wandered in. This time only Allen got some more official breakfast, as the girls took snacks here and there. Allen had more bacon, eggs, cheese, and some salsa. It was wonderful, and he was about to get more when he remembered that he was getting in to shape. Sandoval had everybody that wasn’t going to a church service meet back at 9:00 for the nickel tour. Cindy could be seen sword fighting with shadows in the yard. She only occasionally opened her eyes, and when she did it was only briefly.

The group got a tour of the big replica of the Spanish galleon that they chased Allen away from earlier. It was a private ship builder that was using authentic means and methods for creating a true to life replica. It had some extra things that they hadn’t thought of back then though, like a weather station, radar, and radios. It also had GPS, and the things that were needed on anything that size that was put to sea in the modern era. It also had more modern toilets, and a better galley. It made the students aware of what they were getting in to. There were also volunteers working with the millionaire who commissioned its construction. Many of the students thought it would be great to be able to have a ship like this. It was actually mandated that all Spanish galleons be crafted by Spanish ship builders, so there was a moderate crew of them working, and directing the others. When they were stepping off the ship the BYU students were waiting for their turn to take the same tour. The common playful hatred that the 2 schools had for each other reared its head. It was all in good fun though, and nearly everybody was smiling or laughing as they made fun of each other.

Afterward, they took a tour of the ship they would be living on for the rest of the summer. If you made the final cut anyway. It had a lot of similarities to the authentic replica, but it was a technical marvel with an authentic look, but it was comprised of composites and resins. It had a diesel engine driving a generator that could power it around the sea if you were too lazy to work the sails, and a pair of small diesel generators that could be used for power management to power everything else on the ship. It had all the comforts of modern living, but it had old school bunks just barely better than hammocks that they would be sleeping in to add to the authenticity of it all. It made his back hurt thinking about sleeping in a hammock. There was a state-of-the-art audio-visual room with tons of monitors and computers. Cameras were everywhere, and so were fiber optics and Ethernet cabling. It was all kept out of sight inside composite raceways that had covers that made it look like the wood that the rest of the boat appeared to be made of. By Allen’s guess there was no actual wood on the boat. But it had the same look as the replica they had just visited except it had a pale ivory pallor that reminded Allen of weathered bones or antlers that you might find lying in the sun. This was going to be interesting.

Each ship was a custom project that each school was going to help construct. The show's producers had miscalculated the time they would take to build due to the contractor's estimate that they had hired, being unable to get enough labor to work on the ships. The tight schedule impacted the launch of the ships, so Edward hastily altered the schedule of the show to include having the students work on the ships prior to their launch.

They would take part in completing the work on the ship. It didn’t look like it had that much work left to do, but as everybody would soon find out, that’s the way it goes. The last 10% of every construction project seems to take 50% of the effort. When Allen found out that they would get bonus points for being first on the water he thought of it as extra credit. He and his crew would do everything in their power to be on the water first. “You’ve got to be in it to win it.” He said absently.

When they got back to the dining facility everybody was excited to get started. Allen and Todd got them to commit to putting in the extra time and effort to being on the water first. Just before lunch was about to be served, they got the first batch of the new composite swords. They were color coded with the markers for what the camera was going to look at, and what the CGI was going to be for each one. Everybody got a chance to use them for some practice, but there wasn’t enough for everybody yet, so a few of them went back to their wooden ones with the denim jackets. Allen wanted to be greedy, and have 3 so that he could have a long sword and a short sword like he was used to, and still change them out as necessary. He would wait until the last minute to change it up. The BYU people were mixing it up with the new swords, and the commotion could sometimes be heard at the Utes camp through the fence that separated them.

Allen commanded a certain amount of authority around him. When he would speak the others would shush each other down and pay close attention to him. He didn’t feel worthy of the admiration that they afforded him. He would try to be worthy of their admiration, but he always felt like they were clinging to something in him that wasn’t there. He would use his influence to get the crew to work on the ship to get them on target to finish first. He stood on a table at one of these moments and got everybody’s attention.

“We need to always strive to be a team.” He started. “We need to do our best to bring out the best in our teammates, and in turn bring out the best in ourselves. If you see someone struggling with a task, then you should step in and give them a hand. We can ill afford to let our brothers in arms fail. When one of us falls, we all get a black eye. We need to push ourselves, and our team, to be the greatest team to go through this program.” Allen stated to cheers and bolstering of the crowd.

“Not only do we need to be a team…” Allen continued. “We need to compete using fair play. We need to follow the rules as they are set forth. If there weren’t any rules it would be chaos. Being a team, and having fair play, doesn’t always go hand in hand. Our team will always follow the rules.” He spoke clearly and slowly when he explained. “Our team will always follow the rules and use fair play. Teamwork and fair play don’t always go hand in hand, but we will always follow the rules. Is that clear?” Allen asked, and the others approved. “And when the rules are changed and modified, we will follow the rules.” The crowd was approving, but they did not understand the emphasis on the rules, or Allen’s dedication to them. Not yet anyway. Allen always had a trick up his sleeve. He was going on record telling his crew that they would always follow the rules.

Sandoval watched as Allen gave his speech. The emphasis on following rules put up a red flag. “He must have something up his sleeve.” Sandoval said as he looked over to Sara and some of the other interns watching the monitors. “This one has a mind for this sort of thing. He’s going to be a handful. I still can’t believe he’s a theater major.”

“He isn’t.” the cook corrected. “He’s a construction management major. He got on the show with his theater elective.”

“He should have been a lawyer.” Sara added.

“I still don’t see what makes him sneaky.” Anthony commented. “Maybe he just wants his team to follow the rules. He probably wants to use the rules to keep the other teams in check.”

“Doubtful.” Sandoval said. “I’ve worked with people like him in the past. He’s up to something.”

Sara considered this for a few moments before commenting. “Well, whatever it is we can’t really do anything about it now can we? We should let it play out for a while. Maybe give him some screen time to get the savvier watchers something to contemplate. It’s still a win for us. Especially if something comes of it.”

“You are just saying that because your bonus is tied to his air time.” Sandoval observed.

“I am suggesting that he get more air time because it will be best for the show. But I will also get a better bonus that way. It doesn't mean I’m wrong. It just means that I chose wisely when we were picking our teams.” Sara pointed out.

Sandoval nodded. “Get one of the roving cinematographers to take over for Danny. And have Danny commit all his time on getting the best footage that he can of Allen, Exclusively.”

“Danny’s bonus is tied to Allen as well as the rest of his footage that is used on the show. I do not think he is going to be happy limiting his footage of only one man.” Sara pointed out.

“Well, I'm not going to run the show around his bonus. He should be happy having his crew get as much airtime as they do.”

Sara nodded as she gave the instructions over the cinematographer's radio that linked to their headsets. They agreed and got into position.

Rachael led the flag ceremony at dusk. Many people were there to help. It was commonplace now, and everybody was working as a team. Allen sat among the onlookers and beamed at the crew that had adopted him as their leader. With everybody doing their part it was effortless to motivate people to do their part.

Allen wanted to see if he could get them to extend their work schedule. He would bring it up when he was around the ship builders. Until then he thought it would be best to move the team building exercises to 9:00 pm so that they could get 6 to 8 hours sleep and get an early start in the morning. Everyone agreed.

For dinner they had a special table set up for Allen and his guest or guests. The cook said he would have it set up for any number that he wanted. It would be like eating at the captain's table. Nobody mentioned that there were cameras set up to view the party, and directional microphones to sift through the surface noise. They were hidden but not well. Any one of them would admit that they were getting used to the cameras, and they hardly bothered them anymore. For the first night it was set up for 2. Allen sat with Cindy. They enjoyed a buffet style dinner with everything like thanksgiving. There was turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, ham, corn on the cob or off, yams, cranberry sauce, olives, 3 kinds of rolls, and even Spam for those that enjoyed that sort of thing. The only thing that made it feel like it wasn’t a nice restaurant was that it was buffet style. They ate in peace and had a chance to clear the air between them. It was therapeutic.

The team building exercise was simple. Everybody paired off, and half were blindfolded with their Utes bandannas. There was a small obstacle course that their teammate would have them walk through. There were some step up and step downs or over items. There were some buckets that they had to step inside of on their toes and keep going. Then they changed it up and did it again. They timed each other and had a good time until way later than Allen had anticipated.

After the game Allen left the building with all his pirate gear on. He wanted to walk the area again in the night. It was cool and refreshing compared to the daytime when it was so freaking hot all the time. The fence that separated them from the BYU folks had some kind of tightly woven fabric covering it so that it was difficult to see what was happening on the other side. Allen went over and examined it more closely. It was some sort of silt fence, or wind break. He could hear some commotion on the other side coming from the other students he supposed, but he didn’t pay too much attention. He turned his head when he heard a scuffle and noticed Cindy coming over toward him. His face instantly brightened, and a smile appeared as he hurried toward her.

“Why hello lady.” Allen said as he approached her, took her hand, and gave it a tender kiss between the knuckles. Her callouses were getting more pronounced. He looked up and noticed that she was smiling as well.

“What brings you out on a night like this?” Cindy asked. Allen noticed that they were being followed. Probably Danny, Allen guessed. He moved like Danny, and Allen only caught him from the corner of his eye.

“Just walkin, and thinkin.” Allen answered. “You?”

“Same.”

They held hands as they walked toward the beach. The silt fence ended prior to any of the scarce sand. This area had more of an industrial quality to it than the camp did. It made Allen wonder what the beaches would be like on the east coast. He could only imagine. He could not recall any stories of great New York surfers or anything so he supposed the beaches might be crappy. “Probably from years of abuse by industry.” He said absently. This time Cindy responded.

“What’s probably from years of abuse?” She asked as if she just hadn’t heard the first part of what was happening in his head.

Allen looked at her and his pace slowed slightly. She seemed genuine enough. He was glad she was there.

“Well, I was thinking about the poor quality of the beach here. And then I got to thinking about the beaches back east, and how you don’t hear about any surfers there. And then I thought about how it might be due to the beaches being crappy due to years of industrial abuse.” Allen explained.

“Or maybe the water is cold.” Cindy offered.

Allen nodded his head as he looked in to her eyes considering the possibility. They had some luminescence from within. She looked out to sea, and his eyes followed her gaze. There was a boat out there bobbing in the waves. Its red light was visible that told Allen that the boat was facing east. It must have been under power though since there was a slight west breeze blowing from the west. Either that, or the current was pushing it around. There were some BYU students on the beach over by their camp. Allen was glad that they were being unproductive. He wanted every advantage possible.

Allen sighed and looked back to Cindy who looked back up in to his eyes. “We have to beat them so soundly that we break their spirit.” He said out of nowhere. “I want to have good sportsmanship and all, but we really need to break their spirit so they lose the will to win.”

Cindy seemed to take a few seconds to reply. Allen was worried that she would disapprove. “They won’t know what hit em.” She offered at last with a smile threatening to form on her lips. Allen was relieved.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He got no kiss goodnight as they separated ways after the walk. He thought that it was both good and bad.

Just before turning in for the night Allen noticed that he was getting buff. He flexed his muscles in the mirror a few times to see the results. He was getting stronger he knew, but the normal layer of fat around his abdomen was visibly diminished. He would keep working on it until he was at his absolute best.

Monday week 1 of shipyard.

Maddux Martinez was in the Dining Facility before Allen came in and got a cup of coffee. He had his characteristic 2 cups to keep it hot longer.

“Hey Allen.” Maddux said as he saw the Utes unofficial leader come into the room.

“Sup Yo?” Allen said in response before remembering he was going to try to be more pirate.

“Nada.” Was his response as he took a plate with a couple of burritos from the cook and found a table.

“A couple breakfast burritos please.” Allen said as the cook looked at him with raised eyebrows as if asking what he would like to eat.

“Ham eggs cheese and potato?” he asked.

“And bacon if you please.” Allen added. Everything was better with bacon.

The cook nodded as he cracked a few eggs and shuffled them on the sizzling griddle. It smelled wonderful. Allen grabbed some coffee and sat by Maddux as he waited.

“I hear we’re going to build our ship.” Maddux said absently between bites.

“Yeah. We need to make sure we do not cut corners.” Allen stated the obvious.

“I am excited to see how a ship this size goes together. They say we have a lot of work to do, but it looks like it’s nearly done.” Maddux observed.

“Yeah. It looks like our boat and the Y boat are close to the same. I mean, that they have the same amount of work left to do on them.” Allen said.

“When did you see their ship?”

“Yesterday before everybody got up. There wasn’t any fence there yet. They’re almost the same amount of progress. I think we should work hard, put in the extra time, and get out early.” Allen suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Maddux agreed as some others came in and were getting ready for the day.

Allen got the 2 burritos and put one on the table and peeled the foil back from the other and took a big bite. The hot steam coming off condensed on his nose as he juggled his bite-full in his mouth. It was wonderful.

After flag they went inside the shipyard in a big group. Not all of the shipwrights were there yet, and the ones that were weren’t doing anything yet. Mr. Sandoval explained that they would be working on this technological wonder side by side with the shipwrights. Not all shipwrights seemed happy to get these inexperienced hands into their work, but it was in their contract. The students are supposed to work more closely with the men working on items that are in their field of study. This would turn out to show what Allen had guessed. There were too many engineers turning out in to the world each semester. A lot more than could get work. Some of them would no doubt have to find something else to go in to. Only the best and brightest would go to work in their field. To get a well-paying job in your field you had to be one of the elite or go the extra mile. Allen was in construction management, so he was working with the superintendent of the shipwrights, Mr. Montoya. He would be able to keep better tabs on progress, track shortages and deficiencies, and coordinate efforts. Not to mention he would get a better understanding of every part of the ship. He had his grubby little fingers in every aspect of the ship. It was an added bonus that Mr. Montoya liked him. He thought Allen had spunk.

Cindy got placed with the electrical and communications crew. So did Blake and a few of the others. When they were in a formation that resembled an entourage Allen got them doing tasks specific to one thing, and then showed them on the drawings where they needed to do it. He did the same for all the trades. His coordination methods were incredible. His respect toward Mr. Montoya inspired him to nurture him without any animosity whatsoever. Mr. Montoya was impressed by the motivation that Allen had to get his men, and women to work on tasks. He even organized the interns to help expedite material handling, and analyzed the critical path on the schedule, and loaded it up with the personnel needed to get it done.

At lunch time there were a couple of carts wheeled in with hot dogs and all the fixings to make chilly cheese, Philly cheese steak, or whatever dogs you wanted. There was even bacon. Allen had 2 dogs, and 3 slices of bacon on each. There was also coleslaw, potato salad, and macaroni salad. Allen loved this new cook.

When everybody broke down for lunch, they were informed that there would be extra points awarded if they got the boats out early. There were groans from some of the students when they heard this, and saw Allen jump up after only taking his second bite from his first hotdog. They knew they would be the first. Allen had found his groove. Even Todd would have to admit that Allen was a natural born leader.

Allen thought about something he learned from his dad when he was about 12. It was an important aspect of being an effective leader, and leadership was what Allen was all about. “Even if you had three women working on the critical path items, you could still only make 3 babies in 9 months. You can’t put out a baby every 3 months. Critical paths need to be identified and manned up with the right amount of people to keep them from falling behind.” Allen said during lunch. “I will work with Mr. Montoya and identify all our work fronts. Then we can push this project ahead of the other teams. Is everybody okay with working some extended hours?”

It was unanimous. “Just keep working on what you are doing for now. I will alter the instructions as needed. You guys are doing great. I am certain that we will be victorious.”

The only people that escaped his scrutiny were the cinematographers. Sandoval suspected correctly that Allen would like to put them to work as well.

“I need a copy of the rules.” Allen spoke into his microphone as he looked over to Sara. She just nodded her head.

Allen and Mr. Montoya were arguing about critical path items and work fronts for the better part of the afternoon. Allen’s assertiveness was curtailed by his budding understanding of all the drawings and specifications. Many of the items were far outside his expertise, but he was learning fast in a way that impressed Mr. Montoya more than he would let on. In turn, Allen was informed that their ship was the furthest behind schedule. There had been some shortcomings with the shipwrights that could not be easily resolved. Let alone the expense to get caught up on a project that the crew were discouraged with. Allen would try to find a way to get the workers that weren’t on his payroll to go the extra mile. His ability to do so would be determined by how discouraged the crew was already, and how much authority he would be given to implement change. He doubted that he would be given the type of teeth necessary to inspire them, but he had his own tricks that he had learned from his dad.

“Are the shipwrights in a union?” Allen asked.

“Not exactly, but they are shipwrights.”

“What does that mean?” Allen asked honestly.

Montoya considered him for a minute before answering. He was not used to being on camera and did not want his conversation to sway his future business into a gloomy future. “They have to follow certain rules like they would if they were in a union. They have bylaws and seniority. Things like that.” Montoya took a bite from an apple and began to chew as he considered his next words. “They also get paid overtime when they work overtime, but the show isn’t going to pay overtime. They think that the ship crew were slacking off which caused them to miss certain deadlines. And when they got behind, they got some attitude which slowed them down further. This was supposed to be the ship for Brigham Young, but the producers changed it up at the last minute when they noticed how good your team works together. I don’t think the efforts of your team will be able to get our efforts caught up.”

“Why is that?”

“It is just too darn far behind. Most of the work is in the electrical, communications, and controls. Mounting sensors, cameras, hoist systems, radar, tons of wire and cabling... It’s a fiasco.” he took another bite waiting for a response from Allen.

“I don’t know if you are trying to discourage or inspire me. I hope that you are exaggerating.”

Montoya shook his head. “I wish I were.”

“What can we do to regain our lead? I cannot afford to fail. What do you think can be done to recover?”

“I think it would be highly unlikely that you can get caught up. You can only work on the ship when there is another shipwright working here, and they cannot work overtime.”

“What about splitting shifts? My peeps can work longer than yours. If we can get a small contingent to work swing shift, then we can keep working alongside them and put in the extra time ourselves.”

Montoya nodded. “I can ask.” he offered.

“Can I do the asking instead?” Allen offered. “I am working on my construction management degree and want to get some quality experience working with real people.”

“Are you sure that you want to do that?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure. Let me talk with Sandoval and see what kind of offerings I am allowed to extend. I am sure that something can be worked out.”

Montoya nodded his head but said “I doubt it.”

Allen had a candid conversation with Sandoval and Mr. Montoya about building a Spanish galleon. It turned out that the shipwrights weren’t under obligation to work more than 8 hours on the ships, and they didn’t ever receive pay for any time over a 50 hour work week. Allen took it upon himself to see if he could get key personnel to put in some free time. The problem was that he didn’t have anything to bargain with. He needed some motivation to dangle in front of them.

In order to maximize the productivity of his group Allen suggested that class be held back for a few hours so that they could work with the shipwrights as long as possible. Sandoval asked what the schedule was going to be like.

“Breakfast, work, lunch, school, dinner, sleep, repeat.” Sara repeated from the previous day. Allen gave her a disapproving look.

Sandoval agreed to the change. They would do school at 3:00pm instead.

“5:30?” Allen countered.

“We’ll see.” Sandoval committed.

Work on the ship continued. Allen got Blake involved to bring him up to speed on the situation that the electrical shortcomings would entail. They brought over one of the electricians that was working on the ship to gain his insight as well.

“There is a crap ton of cabling that needs to be pulled in. You folks could do that, but we can't afford to have it messed up, so you need to get it right. You should work with one of our men whenever you work on it so that you do not make a catastrophic mistake.”

When Sara’s voice came over the intercom to tell them that it was time for class Allen was a little upset. He wanted to work until 5:30. He was sure that it would be approved, but apparently it wasn’t. He was grumbling about it as he went in to take a shower when Shupe showed him that it was 5:45. Where had the time gone? He smiled and nodded to see that he had gotten his way.

In school they learned about how to use a sextant using the Mariners Almanac, and how to find their latitude. They went outside and practiced using a sextant using the sun against the horizon of the sea. The sun was far from its apogee, but the principal was the same. There was only a half dozen of the sextants, so they broke up into teams. Travis helped show everybody how to work it. He used his upside down with the same principle, but he did not try to show anybody how to do it that way. Not until they understood the basics.

Allen asked if it would be possible to use a cannon to signal the flag ceremony. The teacher, Dr. Lyons, was prepared for the question, and had a propane cannon like the ship was going to use wheeled up on a trailer ready to go. He had worked it out with Mr. Montoya ahead of time when they were told that the Utes were coming. They would be using that from now on. They also had lights on the flagpole so that they could do flag at their convenience. That seemed to work out well with the schedule that Allen was running through in his mind. He was anxious to coordinate things with the team to get their schedule filled up.

They had a late dinner, and then did flag. Dinner was awesome too. Anthony had cooked up steak, stuffed mushrooms, steamed asparagus, and baked or mashed potatoes with gravy.

Tuesday week 1 of shipyard.

Allen came into the dining facility to find Maddux already inside and drinking an espresso and talking with the cook. They were discussing the point bonus that Allen was going to get for being the first on the ocean. Todd and London came in, and a discussion about using the paint ball guns was on everybody’s lips. Todd, London, and Allen wanted to be able to beat BYU without even using the guns once. That way they could save the advantage for the harder of the battles, and better equipped to be the best of the 4 teams. It would also assist them to do their best in the final contest. They would have to see how things were going with the cougars. If they were going to win them easy, then that’s what they would do. But London and Allen really had the final say.

“Here’s a copy of the rules for the show.” Allen said as Sara handed the copies out to the participants. “Note that we get to use the guns for up to one week before the rest of the teams get a chance to use them. Also note that the extra credit for getting our boat out early isn’t very much. Although it is a small gain, we can ill afford to let our competitors get any advantage. We need to crush their spirits. Make them so disheartened that they are unable to recover.” Allen held his tongue for a minute while he assessed the group by reading their body language. His leadership style was dependent upon reactions and sway. He needed to sway their opinions, actions, and behaviors to do his bidding or it would not work. We are “few in number, and the ships of this nature were manned by hundreds. One of the methods of accomplishing this is that they use an average time for the people loading the cannons and incorporate that into the ones operated by the computers. Their accuracy is taken from an algorithm that is a representative of the accuracy of our group. Does anybody have any idea how long it takes to raise sails, lower sails, trim sails on a ship this size?” Travis raised his hand, but Allen motioned him to put it down. This ship has automatic machines to do all of that, but just like everything else, they are based on an algorithm of our abilities. Raising and lowering the anchor can be done by the ship so we don’t have to worry about that one, but all the rest are contingent on our ability to do them quickly, efficiently, and accurately. I know that I have vowed to get this ship on the water first, but I made that vow prior to gaining information that we are about 2 weeks behind everyone else.”

The crowd erupted when they heard this. They had the sense to notice that this was a severe disadvantage. Allen shushed them. “The reason that we have this ship and not the other one is because the producers of the show saw that the ship was behind, and they gave this one to us because they knew that we were the ones that needed the handicap. Those pansies at BYU would not be able to get on the ocean until the show was over. We need them to be ready early as well. We need them out there so we can have a chance to practice. We will beat up on them and get our computer operated systems honed in to our ability. We will be invincible.”

The room was excited to be behind by the time Allen had explained it to them. But they had a long row to hoe. “We need to get the electrical systems online. This is going to require organization and teamwork. All of those automated systems need power for the motors, sensors hooked up and calibrated, feedback from sensors, communications, fiber optics, hydraulics and pneumatics, guidance systems, radio, infrared, propane and propane accessories, and any number of who knows what else to make it work. The bulk of the problem areas are electrical so I will group you up with an electrical engineering student that will be your supervisor until we get to the next stage. The way I see it, we are about 4 weeks out with our critical path items and the work fronts that we can work on. I am working some angles to decrease our time, but the other schools will be done in 3. The only way that we can win this thing is by working together, putting in the time, going the extra mile. We need to do this to show the world what we already know. We need to show them that we are the best.”

Sword fighting was taking a back seat to ship building. Cindy and Todd came over to Allen to see if he could still get the group pumped up to sword fight. It would make a good diversion. Besides, the shipwrights liked to watch a little sword competition to break up their day. He set up an alarm on the PA that sounded every 2 hours. Each pirate was expected to get in a sword battle each time it would blow. They would start getting better at surprise sword fights in the next couple of days. It also gave the smokers a chance to contaminate their bodies during the day without breaking down the rest of the crew.

It was easy to compare their progress to the Cougars, but they had no idea how the ships were progressing on the other side of the States. They were not pulling into the lead, but they were catching up.

At the 3:30 sword fight they were informed that it might be best to take half of a Dramamine. There was some available to those who wanted some. Allen knew he would be getting sleepy shortly after taking one, but he took it anyway. It was a good thing too. For class they did the sextant thing again, but this time they were doing it while at sea. The other members in the boat were rowing around in circles and rocking the boat as much as possible. Some of them got woozy, but none were vomiting outright by the end. They turned in the sextants, and went back to work at the shipyard, but they were shut out. There was a union type rule that prohibited them from working on the ship by themselves. They thought it was nonsense, but they followed the rules.

For dinner they had Mexican food. It was someplace between authentic, and Tex Mex. It was delicious. Mr. Montoya sat at the table with Allen, Todd, Cindy, and a few others. They even had horchata if you wanted it.

“What can we do to be able to put in more time on the ship?” Allen asked as they sat and ate.

“Well, nothing. The men are under contract to work no more than 50 hours. They only get paid for 40. Some of them will run out of hours Thursday afternoon the way you want to do things. Forty hours is forty hours, no matter how you cut it up.” Mr. Montoya answered. It made Allen think about daylight savings time, and how stupid he thought it was. It was compared to cutting the top off a blanket and sewing to the bottom to make it longer somehow. Obviously, it would not work.

“Are the men opposed to working 4 ten hour days in a row?” Allen asked.

“Most of them are doing that now. What are you thinking?” Montoya asked.

“Breaking it up a bit. We can have a quarter of them work Monday through Thursday six to five. A quarter work eleven to nine. A quarter work Wednesday through Saturday six to five, and a quarter work eleven to nine. That way we can work with them from 6 to 9 six days a week. Minus class time of course?” Allen explained.

“They won’t go for it.” Montoya replied. He didn’t seem interested in giving it a chance. Probably because he was in charge and would still have to put in the extra time himself. He would be working six days a week from 6:00 am until 9:00 pm. Allen needed to find a way to get him on board before bringing this to the men.

“What if I gave you a hundred bucks a week? Would you do it then?” Allen offered.

Mr. Montoya actually blew some of his Corona out of his nose at the suggestion. All though he wasn’t trying to, it made Allen laugh as well.

“Of my own money.” He added to no avail.

“That’s like $2 and hour. Why would I go for that?” Montoya asked as he wiped the beer from his nose and face.

“So that we could win.” Allen said flatly. The look in his eyes was sincere. It brought a chuckle to Montoya and the other people sitting at the tables faces, but he was undeterred. Anybody who was watching could see that no other motivation would be needed for Allen to do it. And since this was all going to be televised, everyone would see.

Mr. Montoya was caught off guard. After the shock wore off, he gave it some serious thought. He pondered the agreement for a long time before giving any sign of what he was thinking. Allen’s expression was unchanged, and the whole room went somber. Most of them did not even know why everything got quiet, but when their attention went to Allen sitting at the table with the others, they could see by his expression that something was going on. The tension in the room was high. There was a scuffle in the back room while Mr. Sandoval got on the phone and was talking with a producer, probably Edward. Allen resisted the urge to find a camera and wink at it.

“I’ll talk with the men. See if they’ll go for it.” Mr. Montoya said at last.

“May I talk with the men, with you by my side?” Allen asked. “I may be able to help motivate them.”

“Yeah. You are quite talented at that. It may be best if you talk with them.” Mr. Montoya agreed. “But they still may not go for it. What will you do then?”

“Same thing I do every day Pinky.” Allen replied with a smile, and then added. “Try to take over the world.”

Wednesday week 1 of shipyard.

At the beginning of the shift Mr. Montoya, and Allen gathered all of the people working on the boats into a big meeting at the Dining Facility so that BYU couldn’t easily eaves drop. Allen had some 3X5 cards with some writing on them that he intended to use as que cards. When everybody was inside Mr. Montoya gave the floor to Allen.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are part of a production that is bigger than ourselves. We are building a ship that is going to be seen extensively on television. With only differences in color, the four ships are alike in every detail, but ours is destined to be the best. We have the best people working on our ship. The television program that this ship will be part of will be viewed by millions of viewers. That’s millions of people who will see you doing your job, building the greatest ship that you will have built in your careers. At the end of this project, we will be on record as the people who had part of building this great ship.” Allen began. “When I was a kid my dad worked on several jobs. He worked on several projects. He would come home after working and talk about what he did. He would talk about how he was part of something great. He did his portion of this major project, and that major project, and then he would tell me and my brothers how special it was. He made it sound like he was saving the world on this job or that project. Every time he would say how he was part of something big, something special, something great. By the time I was a teenager I heard a lot about what my dad was doing, and what he had done.”

Allen took a drink of some of the horchata that was left over from the previous night and continued. “I was driving around in my truck with my friends one time when we were in Salt Lake City. I started pointing out the jobs and projects that my dad had worked on as I explained what he did there and there and there.” Allen said as he pointed around the room at imaginary work sites. “And I remember telling my friends that my dad built that hospital. My Dad built that bridge. My Dad built that train station, and my dad built that phone building. My dad built several oil refineries. My Dad built a lot of stuff in the area… They just sort of laughed. Do you know why? He didn’t build that stuff. He didn’t build any building or hospital, or train station. He was part of the project, but it took hundreds of people to build it, sometimes thousands. I knew that. I did. I knew he didn’t do any of the things I was telling them. But my dad did work at those places. He was part of the crew that built it.” Allen reasoned. “My Dad never claimed to have built those things. My adolescent mind changed his words to fit the impression I had of what he did. This ship isn’t just another boat. This ship isn’t just another ship. This ship is part of a much bigger picture. This will be our home, our job, our everything. When you watch this show and you talk with your friends you will say something like, I was part of that project. I helped build that ship. I was instrumental in the production of that ship right there.” Allen pointed at the ship resting on the stands with construction equipment scattered all around. “When you tell your kids about your jobs, projects, work… What are they going to hear? Do you want them to hear the disappointment in your tone, or do you want them to tell their friends that their dad built that ship?”

Allen took another sip of his horchata. He nearly set it back down but thought better of it and drained the glass before setting it back down. “I intend to win this competition. I intend to win by such a large margin that people will never forget us. This program is going to be a part of our legacy. And this ship is the turning point. The building of this ship is important to every member of this crew. If we build this ship to completion first and have her set in the water before the other schools, we have the advantage. Not just a few points of extra credit for the points tally. We get more time to practice. More time to hone our skills. More experience with everything it takes to win. If we break up our schedule so that everybody gets 40 hours a week, but we can finish early… We can be triumphant. Ladies and Gentlemen, this could be epic. No, this WILL be epic. This is going to be the legacy that outlives us all.” Allen picked up his glass and gestured to get a refill which somebody quickly obliged. “I need your cooperation. I need everyone to work together in teams, but teams that are all focused on the completion of this ship. But more than I need anything else I want everyone to feel that this is their moment to make a difference. We are behind schedule for reasons that do not even matter. We cannot do anything about the past, but we can do something about now. We need to use the now to create the legacy. I’ve offered $100 a week to get this project finished. That may not seem like much to you, but remember the plane ride that got us here, and the tight wad that I am. I am willing to pay the price to win. Are you?”

With that said Allen got off his soap box and headed out of the Dining Facility. He heard Mr. Montoya start to talk about the schedule that he had proposed last night, but he was nervous about the ruling, so he went toward the shipyard. When he heard the door bang shut 30 feet behind him, he turned to see Danny recording him. He gave him both barrels and continued. He was nearly there when he heard a roar from the Dining Facility that seemed to signal that they were in.

“Holy shit.” Was all that he could say. “I hope I don’t have to do that again.” He said as he looked right into the camera. Danny gave him the thumbs up with his left hand as he slipped into the shipyard.