Galleon

by CJ Williams

  For an hour, Gus stood on the deck, fascinated by the sea. He scrutinized the masts and rigging at each groan or creak, and constantly inspected the sails, examining each seam as it strained, pulling Alyssa ahead. It had been a long time since he’d felt so alive.

  He shook himself from his trance. He had to check the rest of the ship. Forward to the galley, where one or two metal pots had fallen from their storage rack. He replaced them carefully, but other than that all was fine.

  On the gun deck, he examined each cannon. They remained solidly positioned against the bulwark with the carriage wheels jammed firmly against their stops. The massive weight of the cannons had more potential for damage than anything else on the ship.

  The gun ports were secure. He checked each one twice to make sure. He walked through the midshipman’s quarters and then to the infirmary, where everything was in order. Finally, the part he’d been dreading, he went below to the hold. Surprisingly, he found everything as he’d left it in port. He went through each storage compartment, first checking the water barrels, which were secure; not even a lid had been jostled out of place.

  Their provisions were all as they had been. Forward again to the sail room and all appeared—dare he say it—shipshape. The storerooms were fine; in fact, everything was just as it should be. This was going too smoothly.

  A quick trip down to the data center, and only here did it feel as though they were still perched on the wooden planks on the beach. “Is everything okay, Alyssa?” he asked.

  “All is well; however, Miss Yoshimoto urgently requests your presence.”

  Gus hurried to the quarterdeck, where Kyoko had a distressed look.

  “I’ve been calling you forever,” she complained. “Couldn’t you hear me?” She cast a glance upward. “Hannah’s up in the crow’s nest and hasn’t even looked at me once!”

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “I was checking the ship. Everything’s secure or seems to be.”

  “Well, would you take the wheel for a couple of minutes? The wind has shifted, and I’m exhausted. This is harder than you think.”

  “Sure,” he said, moving to her spot.

  She stepped away, and Gus found indeed it was a lot more difficult than it appeared. The ship pulled at the wheel, trying to head up into the wind. Even though the tiller ropes ran through a set of block and tackles to reduce the load on the pilot’s wheel, it was still a force to be reckoned with. It was not like he could put it on cruise control. With each swell, the sea pushed the bow side to side, requiring continuous adjustments to maintain his heading.

  The magnetic compass showed that in the thirty seconds he’d been holding the wheel, their direction had drifted twenty degrees to starboard. He turned sharply to bring it back onto the desired course.

  Kyoko said, “You’re overcorrecting. Quit fighting it.”

  He smiled at her backseat driving but paid attention to her advice. After all, she’d been doing this a lot longer than him; at least an hour or two.

  He tried to get the feel of the wheel and the delayed response that each quarter turn brought to the bow. It was a world apart from the little sailboat he’d once had.

  Here, when he turned the wheel, nothing happened. He would turn it again and maybe a third time before water flowing over the rudder moved the stern slightly from the first adjustment. The second and third corrections overcompensated, and he would spin the wheel in the opposite direction.

  Soon he had the knack. Check the line, check the compass, adjust, wait for the ship to respond, and check the line once more. His breathing relaxed, and it became enjoyable driving the big vessel through the water.

  Evidently satisfied he wasn’t about to roll the ship over, Kyoko murmured she’d be back, and left. Gus watched her step down from the quarterdeck and disappear below. He examined the sails and rigging. The shift in wind direction meant they were sailing close hauled. He should adjust the tacks to pull the portside leech a tad more forward. That would achieve a more aerodynamic effect and thus create more lift.

  Fifteen minutes later, Kyoko returned, wearing warmer clothes and a floppy hat. “I’m ready,” she said, taking the wheel.

  “You okay?” he asked. She gave him a tired smile and nodded. He watched her for a moment before leaving to tend the sails. The wind had shifted again. If he trimmed the main yard by winching in the starboard brace, it would improve their speed.

  The lines that adjusted the yard, the braces, attached to a pair of winches at the rear of the poop deck above his cabin. He released the clutch on the starboard side to tighten the line.

  The brace didn’t run through a block, and he wasn’t ready for the sudden pull. The rope played out quickly and he grabbed it, burning his hands as the yard strained against him.

  He felt Alyssa slack off as the sail spilled its wind before he could cinch it tight again. The job required an enormous effort. He braced his feet against the edge of the railing, and with every bit of strength in his arms and legs, he leaned against the winch handle, pulling the line in one or two inches at a time.

  His arms started to lose their feeling, and he hastily locked the rope clutch, securing the rope in the winch before it pulled through again. He looked at the yard and thought he might have made it worse. Too bad. He wasn’t going to try that again.

  At any rate, with the yard adjusted, he needed to trim the sails. He slowly let himself down to the main deck and attended to the chore. Twenty minutes later he was dizzy from the exertion and breathing in ragged gasps. He felt nauseous, and his legs trembled from the continuous strain. It was worse than any exercise he’d ever done. It took maximum effort from every muscle group in his body to pull on the damned ropes.

  He sank down against the mast, waiting for the dizziness to pass before returning to the quarterdeck to check on Kyoko. She looked exhausted herself and stood at the wheel, appearing a bit frazzled.

  “You want to take it?” she asked hopefully.

  “No. Give me a second. I can hardly lift my arms. Every time you adjust a line, you have to adjust every other line.”

  “I’ll get us some lunch when you’re ready.”

  That was encouragement enough, and he took her place.

  *.*.*.*

  Kyoko walked across the deck, relieved to be away from the wheel. She was still getting her sea legs, lurching slightly as the ship rose and fell with the waves. A small wave sprayed over the forecastle, soaking her just before she reached the galley. Her high spirits from the morning were gone.

  The first hour had been exciting, seeing the success of all their work over the past year come to fruition. Steering Alyssa through the crater rim had made her heart pound with excitement. And when they’d sailed into the open sea, what a magnificent feeling! But after a couple of hours, she was ready to go home and have a nice soak in the spa. Maybe take an afternoon nap on Grandfather’s comfortable bed and then cook some dinner.

  But those days were gone. Just steering the ship, her only duty, was incredibly hard work. It was like holding a three-year-old who wanted to be put down; trying to deal with the constant wiggling, an ever-increasing weight, but having to hang on no matter what.

  And this was what she faced from here on, every day, all day long, with nothing to break the routine. It wasn’t like she could go into the Admiral’s Club during a layover to have a glass of wine and go to the bathroom. Standing behind the wheel outside in the blazing sun and fighting against the elements was as good as it got.

  Even worse was that Grandfather looked utterly done in. Over the past year, the hard work on the ballast had turned him into solid muscle, but look at him now! When he’d come back into the helm just now, he could hardly stand up. She shouldn’t have left him with the wheel like that, but her own exhaustion, combined with his helplessness from fatigue, had scared her. What were they going to do? Could they handle this ship day after day?

  And today the going was smooth, the gentle swells almost like glass. What about when it got rough? She t
hought about the storms on the island when the wind blew a gale, and it was dangerous to go outside. Back then, all they had to do was hunker down and have coffee until the weather changed. She didn’t have that luxury now.

  They’d have to sail the ship, man the sails, and who knew what else. The smallest mistake or a rogue wave might capsize the boat and take them down. Alyssa could roll over and go under in only a minute or two.

  On the island, Grandfather had lectured incessantly about considerations for storms and how dangerous they would be. She had ignored most of what he said, thinking they’d be fine once they were sailing. Even if there were a problem, he would take care of it.

  But now, although the ship was moving majestically, Kyoko felt Alyssa’s fragility with every swell. Her chest tightened, and she slumped down onto the galley’s deck, forcing herself to breathe evenly and deeply. The last thing she needed now was to freak out and hyperventilate herself into unconsciousness. Wouldn’t Grandfather love that?

  She finally got her emotions under control and started a fire in the oven. They’d planned to have hot meals only in the evening, but right now, she needed the familiarity of a warm stove.

  *.*.*.*

  Over lunch, Kyoko restrained herself from fussing at Hannah, who had stayed aloft all morning enjoying the view. But Kyoko did make it clear that she needed help at the wheel. Hannah was surprisingly apologetic for not realizing how Kyoko had been suffering.

  Other than adding Hannah to helm duties, the afternoon was a repeat of the morning. Kyoko and Hannah swapped off at the wheel every hour or so while Grandfather managed the deck. As planned, he rigged the jib from the bowsprit and the lateen from the mizzen where it hung above the poop deck.

  Kyoko watched from the wheel while Grandfather mounted the triangular jib on the stay between the bowsprit and the foremast. For practice in the lagoon, he had run up the jib several times. He knew what to do, but he was having difficulty now on the deck in the open seas. Although not pitching violently, the bow still moved up and down with each swell. Occasionally the cold spray flew up, soaking his clothes to make the task more difficult.

  A wave washed over the bow, and Grandfather disappeared entirely. Kyoko’s heart almost stopped until she saw him again, still standing there fiddling with the ropes, trying to untie a particularly troublesome knot, to all appearances completely oblivious to the sea. She was thankful he was wearing his safety harness.

  Finally, he got the jib free and hoisted it up, parallel with the forestay until it looked more like a sail and less like a droopy bag resting on his head.

  When the job was done, he returned to the wheel and stood beside her, panting, never taking his eyes off the sails. The jib added little to Alyssa’s momentum, but Kyoko found it made handling easier.

  After catching his breath, he disappeared up to the poop deck, and she could hear him stomping around with periodic thumps, bangs, curses, and squeals from the blocks as he raised the lateen.

  Twice during the afternoon, Hannah relieved her on the quarterdeck. Kyoko didn’t stay gone too long, not wanting to impose on anyone’s energy more than necessary. She’d recovered somewhat from her anxiety attack this morning. At least she could breathe.

  As the sun prepared to dip below the horizon, it was time to stow the sails. Hannah climbed up into the rigging, and she and Grandfather executed the reverse of the morning’s exercise. Once the courses were stowed, he left the jib and lateen up for stability. Then he lashed the wheel into the wind. With those forces balanced, the ship would hold a steady position. Grandfather explained this would give them minimal forward progress but allow them to sleep. The configuration was called to heave to.

  Kyoko had nightmares all night long about Hannah and Grandfather being swept overboard while the boat kept sailing away, with her standing on the deck screaming in terror.

  *.*.*.*

  On the third morning at sea, once the sails were up, Gus made hot cocoa and took a cup to Kyoko. She was profoundly grateful as he took the wheel, allowing her a moment’s rest with the hot beverage.

  Their routine was set. Gus didn’t stay so meticulous about trimming the sails and spent more time helping with the helm. As Kyoko moved aside, he noticed her stiffness.

  “It won’t last forever,” he said. “The work is hard, but in a couple of weeks, even this will become routine. Such is the human body; it adapts. And this is nothing compared to what you’ve done for the past year.”

  “I know,” she replied, squinting from the rising sun. “But these are different muscles. Everything aches. And it’s hard to sleep with the ship rolling all night. At least we’ll only be out here for a month.”

  “That’s the right attitude,” Gus said. “There’s always a silver lining. Alyssa, how far have we come?”

  “Approximately eighty nautical miles,” Alyssa said.

  “Eighty miles?” Gus was surprised at the answer. “It should be a lot more than that. I thought if we averaged three knots an hour we’d do sixty miles a day at least.”

  Alyssa said, “You are averaging approximately three point two knots per hour during daylight hours. However, when you heave to at night, you are essentially adrift without making any forward progress.”

  Gus groaned with the sudden realization. What a stupid mistake. He’d unconsciously assumed around-the-clock progress, but that wasn’t what they were doing. “We have to talk about this,” he told Kyoko. “But it can wait until tonight. I’m a little worried, but at least we brought sixty days’ worth of food and water.”

  “You mean we might be out here for two months?” Kyoko groaned.

  “I’m not sure just yet. Let’s see how things go for now.”

  *.*.*.*

  The daily routine soon became just that, routine. Even the never-ending battle to keep warm was second nature. They arose each morning at the first hint of dawn. Before the sun peeked over the horizon, Gus would send Hannah up into the shrouds to set the sails.

  After reviewing their situation, Gus wasn’t ready to go to a constant day/night operation. As it was, it took all three of them to accomplish the required duties. They had enough food and water to stretch the journey out for fifty days, which, according to Alyssa, was their new estimated time for the voyage.

  Trouble would inevitably come. It always did in one form or another, and if he pushed too hard, they might not have the reserve necessary to overcome. For now, they would continue as they had started.

  Late on the sixth day, the sky clouded over. A real storm was building to the west. This would be more than the annoying squalls that blew over two or three times a day.

  Gus felt a chill down his spine. At least they’d had a week to get their sea legs. He examined the sky, trying to guess how long it would be before the storm arrived.

  He had developed somewhat of a weather eye during the past year on the island. He guessed the rain and wind would catch up with them an hour after dark but he wouldn’t wait. They would stow the sails early. Storms always arrive before you expect, and he wanted extra time to batten down the hatches.

  Gus was more than a little worried, as this was his first storm at sea. It meant a long night of worry. He and Hannah stowed the sails and Gus reefed in the lateen. He would leave only the jib up to function as a storm sail, as they were running off the wind. He lashed the wheel so they would be hove-to for the storm, but he planned to remain in the navigation room to keep an eye how Alyssa fared.

  Kyoko prepared a hot meal of fish stew and warm bread. She also made sandwiches for the night watch.

  Gus checked and rechecked everything in the hold and then went to the gun deck. This was his biggest worry—both the gun ports and the guns themselves.

  He examined the ports once again to make sure they were tightly sealed. During the repairs in the lagoon, he should have come up with a better solution than rope tie-downs. They had seemed strong enough back then, but with a monster storm bearing down, he wished for iron locks instead.

  T
he cannon breechings were firmly snugged down, and even with the handspikes, he couldn’t get them any tighter. Finally, he secured the main hatch with a form-fitted cover from the sail locker over the lattice top.

  The wind started to pick up. They shared the hot meal in Gus’s cabin and smiled worriedly at each other. The lack of conversation only aggravated their anxiety.

  “I’ll take first watch,” he said as he finished the meal.

  “I want to come for a little while,” Kyoko said.

  “Me too,” Hannah added.

  When the storm arrived, it was worse than anything Gus had seen on the island. He gave thanks again that the sea had given them a chance to become familiar with their ship, because it appeared intent on initiating them to the real life of a sailor. The swells grew higher and higher as the wind pushed the water ahead of the main storm.

  The Alyssa bobbed up and down like a roller coaster, one minute high atop the wave, providing a view of the ocean for miles around, the next riding it down into the trough, a thirty-foot wall of water on all sides.

  Then the rain started. It came down in thick sheets, sometimes enough to obscure the bowsprit. The lightning followed with immense thunderbolts cracking overhead, lighting up the sky for brief flashes, illuminating the fury of the storm.

  Alyssa creaked and groaned louder than the storm’s thunder. Gus thought surely her masts would splinter and come apart. The rigging wailed like the string section of an orchestra warming up for a concert.

  Finally, when the storm reached its highest intensity, the swells started breaking off at the top. One of the whitecaps tossed the tiny galleon down into the trough of a wave and then pounded down on top, drenching her decks, sounding like thunder. The Alyssa heeled over on her side, the deck rail almost against the wave tops. Gus held his breath until she slowly rolled upright.

  He put on his safety harness and hurried out onto the quarterdeck to untie the wheel. “My instructor never told me about these kinds of conditions,” he muttered, spinning the wheel to steer away from the next building whitecap. Instead, he let Alyssa surf down the wave until the next swell lifted her up again.