Flashback [Northern Suvan Sea] Preservation is Key

[Anais Seawind]

I talk. I think. You talk.

9th of Fall, 503AV
10th Bell

Syna’s rays beat down on the windswept beach where the Seawind Pod had gathered. In deference to the heat, the small group of Svefra had stripped down to the barest basics of clothing, the littlest children frolicking in the waves bare-bottomed; Anais listened to the splashing and giggling with envy, wishing she were still young enough to play in the salty spray, rather than help preserve the morning’s haul from the sea.

Fish gleamed in barrels all along the shore; the Pod had caught enough to feed themselves for months, as well as share with the dolphins that typically ran through the Suvan with them. Most of the Pod had a dolphin tavan, and the two groups mutually benefitted from the relationship. On days like today, everyone ate well; the dolphins leapt and swam offshore, celebrating the abundance in their own way. The Svefra would celebrate once the work of preserving the catch had been completed.

“Ana – get to work, gel,” Lia Molly (Mollusca, if one were brave) reached over to tweak one of the thick blonde braids on the child’s head. “No dawdlin’! We’ve already shared the catch with our dolphin friends, we don’t want to share it with Syna, too.” Though her voice was gruff, the tone was softened with a wink; as Anais’ aunt, Molly had a special fondness for the girl and understood that the work held no appeal for her. But it was a necessary part of life, and Anais was old enough to be involved in the work as well as the celebration after.

Anais sighed and grabbed a fish from her barrel. Picking up her knife, she sliced it neatly up the belly of the salmon, from the tail to just below the gills; not enjoying a task was no excuse for doing a poor job of it.

“Tell me: what is the first thing we do after hauling in our nets?” Molly hoped to draw the girl out, distract her with a lesson to make the task more enjoyable.

Sticking a finger in the mouth of her fish, Anais proceeded to strip it of its innards before answering. With no small measure of pride, she inspected the line of gills and organs, pleased to see that the whole lot had come out in one slimy piece. Last season, she'd still been breaking them and having to pull the bits out in pieces. She tossed the offal into a bucket set aside for just that purpose, where it landed with a squishy plopping noise amidst a pile of other refuse. “We make an offering to Laviku, thanking him for the bounty of the sea,” she answered her aunt dutifully. Anais had been a part of the gratitude prayers and songs almost since birth. The Svefra way of life revolved around the ocean, the All-Father, and the traditions that kept them close to him. She smiled a bit and sang her favorite lines from this morning’s song,

“To Laviku, my thanks unendi-i-i-i-ing,
My life and heart, the Father’s tending!”

Molly’s voice, and several of the others working nearby joined in for the last few words, and Anais ducked her head, looking back to her now-gutted fish.

“It’s a good, clean fish, gel,” Molly complimented her niece, causing the child’s blush to deepen and her smile to widen. “Do you know what we’ll do with the fish after they’re all so clean?”

Anais shook her head; she knew there was salt involved, because all the preserved fish she’d ever eaten had been salted, but she had never paid attention to the process before. Still, she ventured a hesitant answer, knowing her aunt wouldn’t be satisfied unless she at least attempted one.

“We’ll salt it. Really salt it. And then cover it up in the fish-crocks?” The last bit was pure guesswork, and Anais was almost certain it was wrong.

Her aunt nodded slightly. “Well, you’re a little bit right. We’ll salt it – really salt it,” she winked at the young girl, “but then we’ll set it to soak. Remember last time? We’ll stay here for a tenday while our fish soak in the brine – that’s just salt water – and then we’re going to salt them some more before they go in the fish-crocks.”

The fish-crocks were just as they sounded; large-ish clay crockery with tight-fitting lids that would store the salt preserved portion of their catch. Since the fish Anais and Molly were working with were fairly small, they would only soak for 2 or 3 days before being repacked in dry salt and stored belowdecks for eating during the fall and winter season. Others worked up and down the beach on larger fish and other methods of preserving them. Molly wanted to make sure Anais learned them all.

[Anais Seawind]

They worked in companionable silence for nearly a bell, but the Seawind Pod was too boisterous by far for silence to rule the day and soon enough a rhythmic thumping could be heard as someone could stand the lack of noise no longer. The quiet conversations eventually hushed, giving way to the steady beating as it evolved into a more complex pattern and Anais grinned; it was that of her favorite sea song, one that told of a battle years ago, when the Seawind Pod had chased a pirate’s ship down near God’s Eye Point. Some said that Laviku had been watching the Pod that day, and Anais thrilled at the idea that the All-Father had seen her Pod as it pursued his justice. Even if she hadn’t been born yet. Still, as the singing started, she joined in as loudly as the rest,

"‘Ere were two lofty ships from th’North Suvan Sea,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
One was the Pride of Laviku, and t’other The Salty Star,
Cruising down ‘long the coast of th’North Suvan Sea.

“Aloft there, ahoy!” our jolly sailors cried,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
“Look ahead, look astern, look aweather and alee,
Look along down the coast of th’North Suvan Sea.”

It was a traditional song for her family, and all knew the form it took. Someone, usually her Uncle Chelm, since his voice was the deepest and carried the best, would start the call, and the Pod would answer back “Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we!” It was an answer with varying degrees of musicality, but was never lacking in enthusiasm. Then Chelm would call again and then they all would sing the last line together.

"There’s nought upon the stern, there’s nought upon the lee,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
But there’s a lofty ship to windward, and she’s sailing fast and free,
Sailing down along the coast of th’North Suvan Sea."

The song did as it was meant to, invigorating the men and women who labored along the shore. Anais found herself soon grabbing fish, slicing them up, and yanking out their guts if not exactly happily, at least in keeping with the beat of the drum. Molly chuckled down at the young girl; the Seawinds, from the oldest to the youngest, believed music could improve any experience, but the Lia was not so naïve that she didn’t also know her brother had begun the entertainment in an effort to avoid doing any real work for the day. Still, she heard herself singing just as enthusiastically as her niece when the time came.

“Oh, hail her, Oh, hail her,” our lovely Lia cried,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
“Are you Svefra, my boyo, or a privateer,” said she,
“Cruising down along the coast of th’North Suvan Sea.”

“Oh, I’m no Svefra - nor a privateer,” said he,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
“But I’m a salt-sea pirate a-hunting for my fee,
“Cruising down the coast of th’North Suvan Sea.”

Oh, ’twas broadside to broadside a long time we lay,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
Until the Pride of Laviku shot the pirate’s masts away,
Cruising down along the coast of th’North Suvan Sea."

As Anais and Molly neared the end of their barrels, having gutted and sung their way through the lot of fish that was theirs to prepare, the final verse rang out over the air:

“Oh, quarter, Oh, quarter,” those pirates then did cry,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
But we showed Laviku’s own mercy when we sunk them in the sea,
Coming down along the coast of th’North Suvan Sea!"

Cheers and whoops followed the last couplet, as the Seawinds celebrated the vengeance meted out that day long ago. It seemed to Anais that Laviku himself had to have heard them, wherever he was, the voices were so loud and joyous, rolling out along the shore and over the ocean waves. As the echoes died off, Anais looked up at her aunt curiously.

“Aunt Molly? Is it true? Did it really happen like that, our Pod sinking that other ship?” Uncertainty made her voice just a tiny bit quieter. Waiting for her answer, Anais realized she didn’t want to know if it wasn’t the truth, didn’t want to picture her Pod as anything other than what the song portrayed: fierce, just, and righteous in Laviku’s name.

“What’s that? Of course it’s true, gel,” the Lia reassured her, “there may have been a ship or two from another Pod alongside, but who can fault them? It was Laviku’s work we did, and no Svefra would pass up a chance to honor the All-Father, eh?” Molly’s tone was light, easy – the battle referenced in the old song was before her time, as well, but the Lia did not doubt her Pod’s history. “Now, let’s go empty these buckets down the shore, and then we’ll come back and begin the brining of these fish!”

*Bastardized version of a traditional sea chanty. I took liberties. Let me know if its presence here is a problem.

[Anais Seawind]

“The next step is the salting, and then the brine,” Molly continued, as the two walked back up the beach to their fish. “To make a good brine, we use a good amount of salt – it will help to dry the fish out quickly, so there’s no rot. No waste. A good, salty brined fish can keep for many months, gel.”

Anais nodded, she knew the taste of the brine-cured fish. Really salty. But she was confused about something. ”But, why do we need so much fish? We fish all the time. There’s always fish to eat.” In her opinion, it would be easier, not to mention more fun, to just fish up some more when they needed to, and not do all the gutting and salting and work.

“Oh, child,” Molly’s blonde head bobbed with laughter, “what d’ya think we do each year? We’ll not eat this entire bounty ourselves. Fresh is always better, and we’re blessed enough to have it at our fingertips all the time.” The woman’s hand moved in the Fratava sign for gratitude as she continued without a pause, “much of this catch will be traded. Those fancy Inartan beads you’ve been wantin’ more of, Chelm’s drums. Yer mom's favorite tea and tobacco. Swords and furs and things Laviku’s waters don’t provide. We’ll trade our work today for our wealth tomorrow and let some other poor sap eat salted what we can enjoy fresh from the sea.”

Anais’ hand flew up to touch the aqua-colored glass bead braided into her hair; since she’d “won” it playing thimblepig last summer, it had been one of her most treasured possessions, and she had been eager to add more ever since. ”Oh! I see,” small teeth worried at her lower lip for a few ticks before she piped up again. ”Aunt Molly – how soon can we get the beads?”

Molly threw up her hands in mock exasperation. “I knew it! I knew you’d latch on to those beads. I’ve half a mind t’go find Ennivan and tell him what a little monster he created,” but she winked and Anais knew it was all said in fun. The man in question had taught Anais his tactics at thimblepig while her Pod was moored with the Anchorage Flotilla last year, and she had come away from the encounter wiser about gambling and in possession of the most beautiful glass bead, with a taste for more.

“Come on, then, greedy monster. No beads until we’ve done with the goods,” Molly pointed at the buckets of fish waiting to be brined and her tone turned more serious. “The fish we’ve done will fit in this barrel here, and then we’ll cover them in a salty water to sit for a few days. But first, we’re going to coat the skin in salt, and add some salt to the bellies, too.” While she spoke, Molly grabbed a fish and demonstrated her words. "This is what dries the fish out; too wet, too warm, too old - the fish begins to spoil, and then its wasted. We never waste what we've been given, to do so is to disrespect Laviku himself. D'ya know how to tell if a fish has begun to turn?"

Anais shook her head, but again took a guess, "The smell?" Her nose crinkled, imagining the rank smell of rotting fish.

At this Molly let out a loud bray of laughter. "Smell? Oh, aye, the smell, child. But before that," she grinned at Anais, shaking her head at the face she was making. "The eyes. They go all milky and clouded when you wait too long to dress 'em out right."

Dropping the fish in the bucket of salt, Molly pressed it down, making sure salt had touched every inch of the fish before flipping it over and repeating the process on the other side. Then she reached into the belly of the fish, empty now of internal organs, and spread it apart. Anais watched, fascinated, as her aunt proceeded to rub salt on the exposed flesh, coating the shiny pink surface with grains of white. As she watched, the salt took on a pinkish tinge, the result of blood and fluid being drawn out of the fish. Once the fish was salted to Molly’s satisfaction, she dropped it into the waiting barrel and looked at Anais expectantly.

“Your turn, Ana.”

Not squeamish in the least, Anais had been handling fish and guts since she was a toddler, the girl grabbed her own fish from the bucket and began to mimic what she’d just watched.

“Press down hard, gel, you can’t have too much salt on it,” the words came with a hand, pressing down over Anais’ own, the added weight firmly settling the fish into the salt, and then leaving, allowing Anais to finish the chore.

Anais’ small hand slipped inside the fish pulling it apart, and she began loading more salt inside. It felt gritty against her hand, and the moisture inside the fish caused the grains of salt to stick to her skin as well as the fish. By the time Anais judged the fish salted enough, her aunt had already finished another and was reaching for a third.

“Gotta move faster than that, gel, or we’ll not have enough fish to trade for beads at all!”

Anais stuck her tongue out impishly at her aunt, but the other woman noticed that the girl had picked up her pace, just the same.

[Madeira Dusk]

Grades Awarded!

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Anais Seawind

Skills

• Butchering: 2xp
• Food Preservation: 3xp
• Singing: 2xp
• Wilderness Survival: 2xp
• Socialization: 3xp
• Observation: 2xp

Lores

• Lore of the process of curing fish
• Butchering: cleaning a fish
• Lore of traditional Svefra shanties
• Lore of Seawind legends
• Food preservation: how to make brine
• Food preservation: cloudy eyes means spoiled fish

Awards & Retribution


Notes
Reading your threads is my version of a day at the spa. Your writing is so neat and clean and a pleasure to read. I look forward to more from you!

Please contact me if you have questions, or think I've missed any skills or lores!