Chapter 13: Sailing the Briny Blue Part 1

After the second day of exploring the Peregrine, Cal decided being at sea was boring. No, she had to be exact. Being at sea with no responsibility was boring. The scientists worked in what they called the lab, calibrating instruments and exchanging theories. Pentam set his darkroom up in a space near the stern of the ship. He said it still had clips for mops on the walls. Sir Shillingsworth double checked the cargo, especially the giant glass jars, now filled with preserving fluid for the sea serpent they were to bring back. It would have to be a very small sea serpent. She struggled every day to find something to record in the expedition log.

Cal went looking for Monky.

The engine room might as well have had a sign above it: Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. Heat and noise struck like something out of the Inferno. She stepped through the door and put her fingers in her ears.

"Try this, Missy." Monky held out his hand with two bits of waxed cotton. She used them to plug her ears and the sound became bearable.

"So, tell me about this engine." Cal turned in a circle to take in the whole room. It made the little steam engine on the carriage at home look like a child's toy.

"Over here's the boiler." He pointed at a huge tank. "She's set exactly over the keel. Big as any locomotive. Coal's in the hold there, and water comes from further to the bow." He pointed at valves and pipes. "The coal we still shovel."

Cal followed him about the confined space, ducking under pipes.

"Here's the pressure gauge. Watch it close. Gets to sixty and we slack off the heat. Too much heat, a valve blows and she'll punch a hole through the hull. Needs fair bit more than sixty for that to happen." He crawled through to where huge pistons banged arms up and down turning a giant shaft which disappeared into the stern hull. She recognized similarities to the engine of their steam carriage, only immensely bigger. "That box keeps the seawater from coming in. It all looks simple, but ye got to be on your toes to keep her running smooth. Over here is the way we communicate with the bridge. The bells tell us the speed, four for full, three for three quarters and so on. A long and a short is for reverse." He pointed over to a long lever. "That's the reverse, but the Cap'n wouldn't thank me fer demonstrating."

"Thanks for the tour." Cal climbed out the door and pulled the wax plugs from her ears once the deafening sound faded. A couple of the sailors she passed gave her odd looks. Pentam saw her as she came out on the deck.

"Not what I expect Sir Shillingsworth would want his daughter about." Pentam frowned and rubbed a finger gently across her cheek, then held it up, black with grease.

Cal ran to her berth and looked in the mirror, then laughed at the black streaked face staring back at her. She used a cloth to get most of the grease off.

Sixty psi felt like an awfully low pressure. The boiler would stand up to much more than that. Lines and curves floated in her mind. With higher pressure, it would be more efficient and turn the shaft faster. Not too fast; she imagined it shearing off and flying about the engine room. She'd ask how big the prop was, it would tell her how much stress the shaft took. She'd tried to draw these things, but they didn't come out as anything recognizable. Cal never tried explaining it. Her father already despaired of her.

After that she spent most of her time in the bowels of the ship, shovelling coal, adjusting valves, greasing gears and bearings. She avoided Pentam, who apparently was more determined than her father she be ladylike.

"By the time yer ashore, ye'll be a regular grease monkey." Monky grinned and Cal smiled at him before heading up to the deck, where again Pentam accosted her to express his displeasure.

"Until Sir Shillingsworth orders me to stay out of the engine room, I will continue to learn from Monky." Cal glared at Pentam. She wore a sailor's uniform begged from Henrichs as it was much safer than her dress in the engine room.

There was a knock on the door as she finished wiping the oil and grease from her hands and face. The uniform she put in a cubby away from her other clothes. The cap she wore kept the worst of the grease and oil out of her hair, but there were times she envied Monky his bald pate.

"Just a minute," she called out and pulled a dress over her head. When she opened the door, Sir Shillingsworth waited for her in the passageway.

"Join me for tea, in the mess." He might have worn the slightest of frowns.

She followed him up to the mess and sat in the corner while he fetched two cups of tea. He pushed one over to her.

"We'll be stopping at Finches Harbour to take on supplies. I'd like you on the deck to record the island and city. It is time to get serious. No more playing in the engine room."

Cal opened her mouth to argue that she wasn't playing, but closed it. This was Sir Shillingsworth talking, not her father.

"Yes, Sir." She cupped her hands around the tea. "Where do you suggest I take up position?"

Sir Shillingsworth stilled for a moment as if adjusting what he planned to say next.

"I think at the bow; you'll be able to move down either side of the ship at need." He took a sip of the tea and shuddered. "I will never get used to the taste of tea without milk. I want you to think about what you wish to do with your life."

The sudden shift in topic made Cal's head spin. She took a long sip to give herself time to think.

"I'm honestly not sure." She looked around the mess. "Some days I want to explore the world like you do, drawing what I see, so everyone can share the adventure. Other times, I want what I had with mother at home. Safe, familiar."

"You aren't planning to be an engineer?" He raised his eyebrow and she couldn't tell if he was teasing or serious.

"The engine is fascinating. It is so much more complex than the steam carriage at home. All those parts working in balance to push the Peregrine through the water. It's like a symphony in my head. But as interesting as it might be, I don't think a career as a grease monkey is for me."

Sir Shillingsworth let out a long sigh, and Cal laughed.

"You seriously thought I could be an engineer?"

"Could? Cal, you could be anything in this world. Should? Where are your gifts best used? Don't make up your mind too quickly. You don't want to limit yourself."

He put his hand on her shoulder, then carried his still full cup to the galley. Cal sighed and finished her tea, then headed for her berth. She needed to get organized to record their landfall at Finches Harbour.