Reporting for Duty.....A Life Begins

[Owen Westley]

The 20th of Summer 509 AV

Owen had left the dockmaster only seven days ago. The excitement he felt made the days pass quickly. His main priority was getting he meager personal effects in order. Only able to bring a backpack, he decided he did not need to bring his weapons. This was decided from a conversation Owen had had with his father. So they stayed behind stored in his room. Wishing his parents well, he hitched up his pack and left.

It did not take long for Owen to find the pier. Number five was where he needed to report. This was going to be the beginning of a new life for the young man. He now hoped he would not mess it up. Owen stopped to ask which of the sailors would be Captain Boxelder. He was quickly pointed in the right direction.

Making his way to the captain, he stopped. "Owen Westley, reporting for duty."

[Liminal]

Captain Boxelder, as it happened, was a man in his fifties who gave the impression of being carved from a single piece of knotted oak. He had just finished giving some orders to a pair of stevedores moving cargo when Owen found him.

The Captain looked at Owen with a grin that exuded mischief. "Reporting for duty...sir, Mr. Westley." He left it at that for just long enough to make it awkward. "The Dockmaster mentioned you to me. If you'll follow me, I'll show you around the Dorsal Fin."

He stepped lightly up the gangplank onto the ship. It was a smaller cargo ship, with a crew of perhaps twenty-five. From the looks of things, Owen would be the only newcomer. The Captain went aft, and lifted a hatch in the deck.

"Down here are the bunks. As the newest sailor, yours is the top bunk on the extreme far left. There's a peg you can hang your bag on. Go ahead and put it down there, and then we can continue."

[Owen Westley]

A somewhat defeated look passed Owen's face. His first encounter his his new boss, a Captain Boxelder, was not the best. He already offended him. Owen began to back pedal on his remaining thoughts and tried to figure out how to remedy the situation. However nothing came to mind. So he stood there with a downtrodden look.

Following his Captain, Owen made his way up the gangplank and onto the Dorsal Fin. This would be his new home. Well maybe not if he insulted his boss. with eyes wide, the young man glanced around. This would be a new experience for him. The crew was busy preparing for the journey. Owen knew he too would soon be working.

As the Captain explained the sleeping arrangements, Owen had a funny feeling that the top bunk was not the ideal spot for a new guy. Nonetheless, he placed his backpack on his peg and readied himself with the orders Captain Boxelder was about to give.

[Liminal]

The bunkroom was crowded, dark, and smelled of tobacco and sweat. The top bunks swayed significantly more than the bottom, which explained why they were set aside for newcomers.

Once Owen returned, Captain Boxelder walked with him to the center of the main deck. "This is where you'll be doing most of your work," he said. "As the new deckhand, it's your responsibility to keep the deck swabbed and the rope ends safely coiled and out of place. The mops, buckets, that sort of thing, are all in that closet over there." He pointed at a small door adjoining the captain's room.

"We'll be starting in an hour. Once we're safely out of the harbor, it'll be time for you to begin your regular duties. Do you have any other questions, Mr. Westley?"

[Owen Westley]

The fresh air was a welcomed relief from the staleness that would be him home. Owen followed Captain Boxelder to the main deck. As his duties were explain, the young man made mental notes of where items were, he knew life aboard a ship would be difficult. The scrubbing of the deck and the coiling of rope were not the most glamorus jobs on board. But he knew it was where everyone started.

The deck he figured would need to be maintained around the clock. An type of mess left on the surface could spell disaster for anyone working. Ropes, if not stowed properly were also a problem. He recalled a story his father told him of a sailor friend who tripped on a rope and fell overboard. The sailor was lucky. However there were others, his father told him, that were claimed by the sea.

Hearing that he would have an hour before setting oout, Owen took the time to stare out at the town. He would not be back for some time. That was something he was fine with. His weapons were safe with his parents until he returned. He would have a place to sleep or not, if the swaying of his bunk allowed it. He would be feed. Most importantly, he would learn a trade and get paid to do it. Life was looking good.

"I have but one question sir. Will there be someone else that I should report to? I do not want to bother you with trivial questions when you need to be responsible for the ship." Owen did not want his question to sound as if he did not want to talk with the Captain. He just wanted him to know the chain of command.

[Liminal]

A smile actually crossed Captain Boxelder's face. "Now that, Mr. Westley, is a very good question indeed. Most of your work, being routine, we expect that you can do for yourself. But if you've got a question, the person to ask is Second Mate Wheelwain."

A red-haired woman who was walking across the deck a few feet away spun around on her heels at this. She was probably about thirty, but fresh-looking for her age. There was an expectant look on her face.

"Ms. Wheelwain, this is Mr. Westley, our newest deckhand. Mr. Westley, Second Mate Cassandra Wheelwain. She's responsible for the physical upkeep of the ship during the voyage, which is why you report to her. Any questions, she's the one to ask."

Ms. Wheelwain nodded politely to Owen. The Captain looked around once and then cried out, "All right, crew! Look lively, and make final preparations for our departure!"

[Owen Westley]

The young man widen his eyes as he was introduced to the Second Mate. "It is a pleasure to meet you." As he said it, Owen hoped he could have taken it back. The words pouring from his lips sounded as if he was trying to pick up a young girl from the local tavern. Totally inappropriate.

Owen jumped as the Captain announced their departure. This was it. His adventure. His new life. He turned to the Captain. "Thank you for the opportunity, sir." He inclined his head with a most humbling expression.

Attempting to redeem himself, Owen asked Ms. Wheelwain, "Where should I start?" He was hoping to get himself into a routine. The sooner the better. Owen knew there was much to the ship he did not know. A routine would grant him untold knowledge.

[Liminal]

"A pleasure to meet you...sir." It was the captain speaking, with the same mischievous grin as before. Then he departed to give further orders to the sailors, leaving Owen and Ms. Wheelwain alone.

"A pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Westley." The woman had something of Captain Boxelder's sense of humor, judging from the tone of her response. "As of right now, the best thing for you to do is acquaint yourself with the supplies in the closet over yonder. Once the ship is safely away from the harbor, you'll want to do a once-over and check all the ropes, and then start on the decks, probably from stern to bow."

The boat was, ever so slowly, beginning to move. "You're on the day shift, as a newcomer. At sundown, you can go down to the galley, and then whatever you like -- so long as you're back at duty by dawn."

[Owen Westley]

"I will begin at once," Owen stated to Ms. Wheelwain. He turned and made his way to the closet. Upon opening it the young man knew he was in for a long journey. on his inspection of the closet, Owen found various mops and brushes and buckets of different sizes. I think I will get to know these really well. Along with his cleaning tools, ropes of varying thicknesses and lengths hung from pegs. Some gave the appearance of being extremely heavy.

Taking stock of what he had to work with, Owen finally realized that the ship had gotten underway. Doing like he was told, Owen Westley began walking the deck of the ship examining the ropes. To be honest, he was not sure what he was looking for. So he thought about what the captain might want him to look for. Frays. A frayed rope would be a deadly thing to have on a ship. If one snapped, it could hurt or even kill one of the crew.

Owen spent a couple of hours inspecting the ropes along the port and starboard sides of the ship. Currently everything appeared to be in excellent shape. Heading back to the closet, he retrieved a long handled brush, a rag mop, and a large bucket. Making his way to the stern, Owen suddenly realized that he had no water for the bucket. Where am I to get water? He did not recall seeing any fresh water buckets on the decks. Suddenly it hit him. Sea water, you idiot.

Back at the closet, Owen found a length of rope and tied it to the bucket. Tossing it over the edge, he lowered down to sea level. As the bucket hit, it almost jerked free of his hands. Holding tight, Owen lifted the bucket back to the deck. Catching his breath, he began to sweep and scrub.

With the sun setting in the distance, Owen had finally finished his duty on his first day. Blisters had formed on his hands and his muscles ached. That was harder than I thought. After organizing the closet for the next day, Owen made his way to the galley. He was hungry and tired. But not sure which was stronger.

[Liminal]

The galley was dark, and smelled of cured meat and kelp. And indeed, that was about what there was to eat -- cured meat, a small piece of fruit, and either water or kelp beer to drink. The latter smelled utterly vile, but the other sailors all seemed perfectly accustomed to it.

There were several chairs scattered around some old barrels, and at some of these, other sailors were sitting, eating their meals or playing cards or dice. This was really the only common area in the ship, and so all of the sailors who wished to socialize did so here.