Galleon

by CJ Williams

  “You can’t be serious,” he groaned. There were over seven thousand ingots. He pulled on one of the handgrips. It weighed close to a hundred pounds. The entire ballast must be around three hundred tons.

  “Can you hear me down here?” he said aloud.

  “Loud and clear,” Alyssa replied.

  “There’s no way I can remove all this ballast.”

  “That will not be necessary. I will identify those areas on my hull that require access. I estimate you will have to temporarily remove no more than fifty percent during repairs.”

  Gus slowly toppled over and moaned, “Oh good. Only half.”

  *.*.*.*

  On the gun deck, Gus examined the tiller sweep, a linkage of ropes and pulleys connected it to the ancient ship’s wheel above on the quarterdeck. He shoved the tiller arm, trying to move it from side to side, but it was like pushing on an oak tree. The thing was frozen solid, not budging an inch against his full effort. If he had to replace the entire sweep and rudder section, he might as well give up now.

  He added the ship’s wheel to his growing list of things to do before moving the vessel into the water.

  He decided to spend tomorrow going over the masts and sails. That would cheer him up.

  *.*.*.*

  The next morning, after Kyoko had prepared a quick breakfast, Grandfather went off to resume his work. She held Hannah back for a private chat. “We need to do more for Grandfather,” Kyoko said in German. “He didn’t look good this morning. Did you see how stiff he was? You know he’s gone back to sleeping at the lifeboat.”

  “He’s an old man,” Hannah replied nonchalantly. “He’s stiff every morning. So what?”

  “That’s my point. Old men are too proud to complain or ask for help. They just work until they fall over dead.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “We would do better on our own.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Kyoko said seriously. “He knows more about sailing than both of us put together. From now on you will be nice and assist him when he needs it. It’s the only way we have a chance of getting home. And starting tonight, we’ll sleep in our own rooms.”

  Hannah looked unhappy. “Do you really believe they won’t come?”

  “I think we’re going to die here of old age,” Kyoko said. “You heard Rebecca’s warning. If it takes more than a few weeks, it means no one can find us. We’ve been here a lot longer than that. It means Grandfather is our only chance to make this boat seaworthy. We better take care of him.”

  Hannah sighed grumpily and looked out the window in the direction he’d gone. “He’s so mean all the time.”

  “You know that’s not true. It’s because you provoke him. If you weren’t so spoiled, you would see that he is trying his best. So please stay close by and make sure he doesn’t overexert himself. And you can start this morning.”

  Hannah nodded. “All right,” she agreed reluctantly. “I’ll go see what the old man is up to.”

  Once Hannah departed, Kyoko put on her overcoat and headed below. It was time she got familiar with the ship herself. A few days of living aboard had gotten her past the notion of alien ghosts. She started by going down to the gun deck. Grandfather said this was where the crew had lived. They’d slept in hammocks amongst the intimidating cannons. All the equipment was properly stowed with everything in its place.

  Kyoko found groups of sea chests shoved against the hull. Hannah had cleaned each one and even laundered the clothing. Kyoko rummaged through a few out of curiosity and found a small leather book in one. There was a handwritten dedication inside the front cover. She couldn’t make out the alien script, only that it was signed by a loving pen. It reminded her of an old family-style Bible. It even had a ribbon bookmarker between the pages. She opened it to see what the young Acevedos sailor had been reading if indeed this page was his last study of the scripture.

  On impulse, she pulled the Bible that Grandfather had given her from her pocket and turned to approximately the same place. The verse at the top of the page gave her chills. It was from Psalms 107.

  They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;

  These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.

  For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof.

  They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble.

  They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit’s end.

  Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses.

  He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.

  Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.

  Kyoko whispered a quiet prayer of her own. “Dear Lord, please see us to our desired haven.” She gazed around the deck at the long-forgotten possessions, and her eyes filled with tears thinking of the nameless mariner whose book she held.

  She’d been feeling cast aside; abandoned and without hope. But the volume in her hands reflected the remembrances of other families, though alien they might have been. Their loved ones had also been lost to an unknowing fate, victims of an ancient tragedy of which she was now a part. Their loss had rested here for thousands of years undisturbed, hidden to the world.

  Kyoko had visited Pompeii once and been moved by the ancient catastrophe. Archeologists had uncovered the city frozen in time. Evening meals stood on kitchen tables, tools left on workbenches, even laundry waiting for cleaning. All of it lay buried, untroubled for centuries until the scientists revealed the tragedy.

  Now, exploring Alyssa and learning about her secrets gave Kyoko an understanding of those archeologists. It would be appropriate to mirror the respect they showed for the belongings of a long-dead civilization. Otherwise, she would think of herself as more of a grave robber than a survivor. Once again, her imagination conjured up ghosts of the forgotten crew wandering around the cold, forbidding island looking over her shoulder, but this time they were not ominous. She should do something to acknowledge their unwitting sacrifice on her behalf.

  *.*.*.*

  An hour later, Kyoko stood on the ledge above the fallen tree where she’d first discovered the skeletons. The rock was cracked in uneven slabs as it sloped down to the jungle floor and eventually led to the lagoon. The wind quieted, and the sun shone brilliantly overhead against the blue sky. She read several verses from the Psalms and quoted what she could remember of Tennyson.

  “Surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore than labor in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar. Oh rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.”

  After a moment of silence, she pushed the stop button on the handiphone, sending the memorial to scholars on Earth.

  *.*.*.*

  Gus stood on the waist and examined the rigging. This was not going to be fun. “You stay here,” he told Hannah, who had appeared to stand by his side.

  “Das werde ich. Kyoko sagte, ich solle dir helfen,” she said. I will. Kyoko told me to help you.

  Gus gave her a frustrated look. “I wish you would speak English now and then. I know you understand it and it would help a lot.”

  “Ich nict spreche Englisch.” I don’t speak English.

  He pointed at the deck emphatically. “Stay! Here!” he said loudly.

  “Ja,” Hannah said with a bored shrug.

  He climbed the mainmast shrouds slowly, testing each ratline to make sure it would hold his weight. His first objective was to inspect the mainsail, the remains of which were furled on top of the main yard. A footrope hung just underneath the yard to give the crew a place to stand while working. He inched along, examining what was left of the sail and trying to determine exactly how it was rigged.

  Ropes ran every which way in a confusing tangle. Each corner of the sail had lines that ran through one or more multiple-grooved blocks, some of which were mounted at
the end of the yard. From there, the cables seemingly connected to every part of the ship.

  He tried to trace a piece of the rigging from its point on the sail to the other end where it tied off on the mast or down on the deck, but it was impossible.

  He squinted against the fierce cold wind, but his eyes teared up so much that at times it was difficult to tell what he was looking at. The tatters flapped against him as though intent on disrupting his concentration. After fifteen minutes of frustration, he moved back to the mast and crawled up to the top above the yard.

  He sat clinging to the mast, shivering with cold and trying to rub the tears from his vision. Above him were other cables, so he attempted to trace those. Some went to the foremast, others to the base of the lateen, but he couldn’t see well enough to tell where they attached.

  He selected a nearby rope that ran from his location on the top out to the end of the yard, through a block, and then to the sail. He pulled on it tentatively, thinking that if he could trace the rope’s movement through the pulley, it would be easier to see how the entire operation fit together.

  The rope wouldn’t budge. He yanked harder, but all he was doing was shaking the block around because it was so clogged with accumulated dirt and brine that it was little more than a solid mass.

  He yanked on the rope as hard as he could, but nothing would budge. He tried counting all the blocks but lost track at twenty-five. Somehow, he needed to remove each block from its mounting point, take it below to clean thoroughly, replace it with one of the spares if necessary, and then put it back in the exact same spot.

  Ignoring the fact that he was freezing his ass off and about to fall to his death at any moment, the process would take forever. In the meantime, Hannah had disappeared, probably bored with his attempt at trying to save all of their lives. Good riddance.

  After a brief rest, he resumed his place on the footrope and inched his way to the yardarm to untie one of the gaskets that held the sails in their stowed position. He just wanted to see how one single thing on the ship was actually supposed to operate. The knots, tightened by years of flapping, were impossible to undo. A gust of wind whipped up a piece of sail and struck him across the face with a stinging smack.

  “Damn it!”

  That was enough for today. he decided, blinking furiously while holding on for dear life. Next time he’d come back with a bolt cutter if that’s what it took.

  He was beginning to have serious doubts he would ever be able to sail this stupid boat. It seemed doable on the face of it, but the more he got into it, the more impossible it became.

  At dinner, Hannah smirked as she wondered aloud in German how Grandfather had picked up such a bright red welt across his forehead. Kyoko lit into her furiously and Hannah subsided, looking reprimanded. That evening after the meal everyone was quiet.

  7 – Too Big a Job

  “You never enjoy the world aright, till the sea itself floweth in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens and crowned with the stars.”

  (Thomas Traherne, “First Century”)

  Once breakfast was over, and Grandfather and Hannah had left the captain’s cabin, Kyoko jumped into Gus’s comfortable bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, shivering from the morning cold.

  Last night she had lain awake in her own berth, imagining how the sailors’ lives had been filled with continual hardship and danger. But at the same time, men’s love for the sea rang clearly throughout history, and even here on Alyssa the same was true for the ancient Acevedos sailors. They had died on this island because they sought the thrill of an arduous race across this alien sea.

  In school, she’d heard stories about young men going off to sea and losing their hearts, not to women in far-off lands, but to a life of exhilaration. They fell in love with their ships and longed to return to the sea.

  She could already see the same thing happening to Grandfather. He’d grown increasingly moody since moving into the captain’s cabin. No doubt he felt the same restlessness. He must be eager to refit the ship and sail away to adventure and a new exotic island.

  Now she understood those feelings. After just a few days of sleeping aboard Alyssa, staying bundled up in warm blankets, sitting close to the stove in Grandfather’s cabin, and listening to the constant creaking and groaning from every little gust of wind, Kyoko felt an affinity for the magnificent ship. She spoke the name out loud, Alyssa, letting the word slip through her teeth. It sounded like a hiss—a serpent’s warning—and it was ensnaring them all. She loved it.

  Kyoko let out a long sigh and stretched, trying to get her muscles ready for the day. Enough romanticizing; it was time to get up. She rolled out of bed, pulled on her layers of clothes, and went out on deck. She climbed the stairs leading up to the poop deck and leaned against the back railing.

  In the frosty air, the rigging looked like a spidery work of art. The cold penetrated her jacket, but this morning it was invigorating. Goose bumps traveled across her shoulders and down her arms. It made her feel alive. At the bow, the figurehead jutted proudly forward, leading the way to who knew where. Brave men had sailed on these decks.

  They’d succumbed to the famous pull of the sea, the promise of seeing the galaxy, of capturing a magnificent treasure…and died for their trouble. The sudden acknowledgement jolted her into a more sobering reflection, and she shook her head, clearing the ridiculous thoughts away.

  On second thought, she’d had enough excitement to last a lifetime. All she really wanted was a hot bath, a good meal, and a late-night movie in bed. Well, the first two were within her grasp. She grabbed a clean towel and hiked over to the spa. She had just enough time for a soak and then prepare lunch for Gus and Hannah.

  *.*.*.*

  Gus threw down his fishing poles in disgust. He’d frozen his ass off in the shallows this morning, constantly on the alert for those damned sharks, and the cold wind had given him a pounding headache.

  Last night he lay awake thinking about the sails. Around midnight he realized if he let all that canvas down at once the wind would likely blow the ship over on its side. He had nightmares remembering how close he’d come to unfurling the mainsail. Wouldn’t that have been brilliant? The entire notion of sailing away on Alyssa got more impossible by the day.

  Not that it made any difference, anyway. For the last couple of days, he’d been considering one solution after another to solve the fresh water problem. Every water cask in the hold was dried up to the point of being useless. The barrel staves had come apart from repeatedly being frozen and would never go back together. So how were they going to transport potable water?

  And he still had that one overriding problem: how to get the ship into the lagoon. He shook his head angrily. Of his three main objectives, he had accomplished exactly nothing.

  *.*.*.*

  At dinner, Gus slumped down miserably at the table. “There’s no way,” he said with a loud groan. “There’s too much wrong with the boat.”

  Kyoko gave him a surprised glance and patted him on the back. “What do you mean, Grandfather?”

  “I can’t do it,” he admitted. “I can’t make it sail. It’s too big a job.”

  “Not for you,” Kyoko replied encouragingly. “You said all you had to do was put up the sails and push the boat into the water.”

  “I know what I said. But now that I’m getting into it, it’s not that simple. Every time I turn around I find something that needs a factory and a hundred men to put in order. Believe me, I know. This is what I did for a living.” He explained about the need to repair the tiller sweep, come up with water storage, replace all the blocks, repair cracks in the hull, and more.

  “Alyssa,” Kyoko said looking at the oil painting. “Can’t you help us?”

  “I cannot,” the ship replied as the video screen came to life, showing the three of them at the table.

  “You keep saying that,” Kyoko argued. “But why? No one cares about the rules for a race that no one remembers.”


  “I disagree,” Alyssa said. “The Gugje and Yoteu Masters Cup is the most famous yacht race of its kind. The restrictions are necessary to preserve authenticity. Just to qualify, crews must prove they have the skills of ancient seafarers and also understand the technology for traveling through the cosmos. The current race has so far spanned eight solar systems, and the participants are widely venerated for their prowess.”

  “That’s my point,” Gus said. “I don’t have those skills. None of us do.”

  Hannah, who had been silent until now, snorted. She spoke fiercely. “Das ist nicht wahr!” she said. That’s not true!

  Hannah rattled off another string of German, and Kyoko translated. “Hannah says you call yourself a shipwright and now you should prove it!” Kyoko applauded with a big smile. “She believes in you, Grandfather, and so do I. We’ll be your apprentices. If we work together, we will succeed no matter how long it takes. I am sure of it.”

  Gus sat back in his chair, a bit surprised by their naïve optimism. Was it misplaced? He poured himself another cup and walked over to the leaded glass to look out at the lagoon. The setting sun was visible under the overcast skies, painting the bottom of the low clouds with beautiful streaks of red and orange. He opened the window, allowing fresh air into the room, letting the cold battle with the hot cocoa.

  According to Alyssa, the summer was just starting. It was the right time to start a voyage. If they waited more than a couple of months, however, the winter storms would be upon them. And there was no way he could have the ship ready that quickly. But what about twelve months? Or more, if that’s what it took. Given enough time, was there anything that needed to be done that he couldn’t do?

  Unfortunately, there was. Getting the galleon into the water was a sticking point. That was a different league.

  “We can probably repair Alyssa,” he said. “But I can’t move a boat this heavy when it’s stuck on land.”

  “You can’t?” Kyoko asked in her encouraging manner. “Or you don’t know how right at the moment?”