Chapter 11: Boarding the Peregrine Part 3

They trooped up the gangplank and stood on the deck.

"Hey, Cal, let's go to the bow and watch from there."

"Sounds good." She took the inevitable sketchbook from her pocket and followed him forward.

A booming horn made them both jump and the deck began to vibrate.

A sailor pulled a rope up from the dock and coiled it on the deck.

"Hi Sam, it is OK if we watch from the bow?"

"Should be fine, Miss Cal."

When did she have the chance to learn this fellow's name? About Pentam's age, he stood taller and much more muscular. He had an open, friendly face framed by short dark hair.

"I'm Pentam." He stepped forward.

"Sorry, Sir, but I'm all over oil from the rope." Sam held up his hands, and indeed they were black.

"That's fine, no shame in well-earned grime." Pentam could have kicked himself. He sounded like a fatuous idiot. But Sam grinned and nodded at them before going off to another task. Other ships, both steam and sail, moved on the harbour. Nobody seemed to make any effort to get out of anyone's way, but there weren't any close calls.

The Peregrine cleared the headland and began to roll with the waves.

"I don't feel so good." Pentam took a deep breath and headed toward his berth. He had no intention of making Cal watch him being sick over the side of the ship.

***

When Pentam abruptly headed to the stern, he looked more than a bit green. Cal's stomach wasn't that happy either, but she stayed at the rail with her eyes fixed on the horizon until the queasiness faded.

"What'cha doing?" One of the crew, a tiny man covered in grease and soot, stood beside her.

"I'd read a cure for sea sickness and wished to try it out." Cal slid a bit to the side to get out of the finger of smoke blowing from the stack.

The man sniffed, removing his cap to wipe his bald head.

"S'blowing a bit hot." He nodded at Cal. "Y'want to see the engines, ask fer Monky."

Cal nodded at him and went back to looking at the horizon. Her fingers itched, so she went looking for somewhere to sit while she pulled out her sketchbook and charcoal and lost herself in drawing.

"I see you've met Monky."

Cal looked up to see Henrichs, and raised an eyebrow.

"Soot on your dress. The man tries, but his job keeps him black as an old pot most of the time."

Sure enough, a smudge of soot on the side of her dress stood out.

"That's nothing." Cal held up her hands. "When I get really focused I can be head to toe charcoal."

"Good to see someone not afraid of a little dirt."

Henrichs stood beside her watching the sea for something.

"You're Sir Shillingsworth's daughter."

"Yes." Cal paused her hands a moment. "You know him?"

"Was cabin boy on the ship, first time he went to sea. Studying some islands off the coast of Africa. Ran into pirates and had a hell of a fight. Your father is no slouch with a blade. By the time we'd run them off, only a few of us were fit to sail. T'was me, the captain, and the bosun. Shillingsworth lent a hand and we limped back to port. Captain Cully kept me on and before long I was his first mate."

"You've been at sea your whole life?" Cal put her hand over her mouth. "Forgive me, I shouldn't intrude."

Henrichs laughed and put her hand on Cal's shoulder.

"Not my whole life, I've got some in me yet." She walked off toward the bow calling an incomprehensible order to Sam.

Cal flipped the page in her sketchbook and began a new picture.

***

The sun slipped beneath the water. Cal put her sketchbook away as the crew lit running lights bow, stern and amidships. She returned to her tiny berth below decks. With the bed folded up she had just enough space to change her dress and tidy her hair. Maybe she should wear it short like Henrichs? Her father would die of embarrassment. She tidied up the tangle from the wind.

She opened the door to a knock. Her father stood in the passageway swaying with unconscious grace. He held out something in his hand.

Cal took it but couldn't see well enough to know any more than it was a leather satchel.

"Bring it with you." Sir Shillingsworth headed toward the mess.

Cal slung it over her shoulder and followed him.

Captain Cully already sat with Pentam and the other scientists. Pentam no longer looked green as he laughed at something the captain said. Cal took a seat on a bench and examined the table. It had a ledge running the perimeter. Table and bench were bolted firmly to the floor. Gas lamps gave the stark grey walls something of a cheery glow.

"Welcome aboard." Captain Cully waved at Cal and Sir Shillingsworth, then looked around the room. "Just to keep things clear, Sir Shillingsworth is your boss. You do what he says. I'm your captain, mostly I'll leave you alone, but if I or my mate give you an order, we don't want any argument. If we're telling you what to do, it will be a matter of life and death." He relaxed and waved toward the galley. "Tea's hot, there's sugar and milk, but after today, just the sugar. You're welcome to fetch yourself tea at any time, night or day. Just don't hassle the cook or you'll find yourself peeling potatoes, he isn't as forgiving as I am."