Wandering Agent
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Chapter 156 Follow the Birds
🕑 Added 2022-07-04 00:28:51 +0000 UTCIt was a few minutes after the captain and Olnir disappeared that the latter came back, heading over to the door that led to where we girls were staying. His gait was stiff, indicating that while this wasn't something that would have him running, it was indeed some kind of important matter.
"Something wrong?" I asked right as he came up to the door.
Olnir turned and looked in my direction, "Ah, just who I was looking for. There are some logistics issues that we need to speak about if you have the time."
"Sure, not like there's much going on anyway." I bid Elian well with a wave and headed over towards the captain's quarters.
The mood inside was heavier than I would have liked, with the owner of the room having laid out several charts and scribbling away on a small pad.
"We're back," Olnir announced as the two of us made to stand by the small table set up.
"Good, we've quite a lot to go over."
"Sounds like we're having even more problems then?"
"Sadly, yes." It was the carpenter who answered this time.
"Well, lay it on me then."
"It would seem that our interaction with the Hurricane Whale sent us quite a bit off-course. The storm, mixed with the change in direction must have sent us into this current here." The captain pointed to one of the charts, with lines that indicated a direction of flow. "Now, with our days of drifting alone it we've moved significantly further south than we should have, and that's a problem."
"Are there more monsters or something?"
"A higher number somewhat yes, but we're still well away from the worst of the concentrations. The issue is that we've entered the doldrums, an area of the sea where the wind is often unreliable. Sometimes there are rather nasty squalls, but other times we could be becalmed for weeks."
"I'm not a sailor captain, could you explain?"
"No wind lass. Without that we're not going anywhere."
"We were hoping you might be able to help." Olnir spoke up.
"I could, but I'm also making a good bit of food, doing both at once would be very stressing."
Captain Tom looked pensive. He stayed that way for a long time as he looked over the various charts and diagrams in front of him. Once or twice he made notes or ran a few quick numbers.
"We can't sacrifice the food, and if we try to sail northwards we'll be going against wind and water, can't say that'll work without more constant of a wind. I propose we have you making us a due west wind as we go. There aren't many reports because nobody likes sailing without wind, but from what I do know we should slowly drift west anyways, least till we're closer to the coast."
"That's far from the normal routes captain," the carpenter said. "Maps of the ocean there, or even monster territories aren't good."
"Don't I know it, but it seems our best choice. We go west until we get close enough to see land, then we head north along the coast." He turned to the carpenter. "Can you get our sails up and ready by noon tomorrow?"
"Perhaps, it'll be rushed and ugly, but I can clear out the issues later on I suppose."
The next morning was a blur of action. Upon waking the bakery opened and I began the process of making today's food. It wasn't too much of an issue for me, but I would never tell others that, otherwise they'd want me to do it more.
After the hurried affair that was breakfast and the aforementioned chore I moved up onto deck to see the flurry of action once again abounding. The lines were being run and positioned, the long banners of cloth hidden in one of the holds lain out and prepped for their upcoming duties.
The carpenter had the attention of all as he directed each man where to stand and what to attach. He clearly knew his business when it came to jury-rigging, and while he grimaced as he did so he made sure all was acceptable.
It was nearly lunch as with a heave the sails were pulled into place. Slowly at first then with pulls and tightenings until a large square cloth now hung suspended over the deck. Limply is sagged until the captain and his woodworker nodded to me and I began to sing.
There are a number of sea songs and I'd had a good chance to learn several from the men on board. I launched into one of these now. The Long Way Home as it was called was a celebrational number bestowing thanks for the journey being bright and sunny and seemed the perfect piece for this event.
Slowly to the raised hand of the carpenter did I fill the canvas. He was cautious to check how his rushed work held under the strain of pulling our vessel as bit by bit I increased the wind.
The voices of the crew joined in as the light breeze gained and gained, higher and higher into a strong western stream. The air abuzz with the singing of men and the cheers of celebration as finally the sail filled to it's fullest and once more we began to move of our own power.
As we moved into the later afternoon we changed it up a bit. Call and return songs became the method of the day with myself acting as the caller and the many sailors below giving me the return. I even took the time to educate them on Drunken Sailor which may have been the most popular number, particularly once I handed over the reins and let them have a chance at coming up with their own verses. The sailors were a raunchy lot, and their choice of punishment for the aforementioned inebriated seaman got rather inventive by the end of it.
The next few days passed much the same. After breakfast I'd spend several hours keeping the ship moving forward towards our eventual destination. The routine was good and most everyone seemed happy.
The moment came though when a cry from atop the mast alerted us. There was no proper crow's nest as of yet, but a few boards where a man could sit and keep an eye on the ocean served to help navigate and look for anything that might be amiss.
"Bird!" The man called down from on high, and all action stopped.
"Where at lad!?" The captain looked ecstatic at the news.
"Just off the port bow captain."
The old man took the wheel and turned us on a slight left, giving me a slight nod to indicate where I should change the direction of our wind towards. Sure enough not a few moments later a small brownish dot appeared overhead. It circled three times before slowly drifting down and alighting on one of the railings. The men backed off carefully, not wanting to spook the creature.
"Kill the wind lass, and a bit of bread if you can." Captain Tom requested.
A few notes later and he approached the bird slowly with the small loaf in hand. He gingerly tossed a bit nearby which the animal hopped down to check out. Piece by piece he fed the seabird until the food was all gone.
The animal in question looked a bit different from a standard seagull. The bill was too long and it's body was mostly brown, with a few blackish marks here and there. Still it had the distinctive shape of body and wing that indicated that it was a creature of the ocean. It was also less bothered by the presence of men than most birds would have been in my experience.
"Come now lad, mind showing me which way you live?" The old captain cooed to the little avian. "Just lead your ol' pal Tom to land and we'll be right grateful."
The bird petered around a bit, investigating our boat before finally taking back to the wing and flying slightly south of our former trajectory. As it moved back towards the direction it'd come from the captain rushed back to where I stood by the wheel.
"That's good right?" I asked.
"Very good, get the wind going for us again if you can please." He looked down at the crew. "You lot, where's Sharp-Eye? Get him up that mast quick as lighting!"
The aforementioned Sharp-Eye was one of the crew. An elf who, much like my friend Charles back home had an aura around his eyes, not to the same extent, but something. I was sure the elf had a proper name, but as he rushed up the mast to the improvised viewing area I decided it didn't matter much.
We sped on after our flying visitor for the rest of the afternoon until finally I had to rest for the night. We'd also be near blind trying to sail like that, and might well miss land.
The next morning I made my way up to the deck early as possible. Breakfast was made around sunrise and shortly thereafter three birds, much like those before found us. The captain was like a giddly little schoolboy and even did a little jig with the first mate, well away from the birds, whom it seemed to be bad luck to scare. Another feeding of our avian friends and we were off once again in search of wherever they hailed from.
"Captain, clouds, and the sunlight reflecting off something!" Sharp-Eye called down, pointing off in one direction.
The crew cheered and with haste we made for the way we'd been pointed. By early afternoon we could look down and see the bottom through the almost crystal blue-tinted water. Reefs here and there and even a few small fish darted about below us as we... well we didn't speed, but lumbered along.
The birds became more and more numerous and before too long we heard the call we'd been waiting for with bated breath.
"Land! Land on the horizon!"
I pushed myself to continue and as the sun began to set even I could see the little line of green before us. I was running on fumes though and it looked like everyone could tell.
"Anchor for now. We can't well try to get ashore in the dark lads, but first light I expect all to be ready."
"Is it the elven continent?" Dras asked as we began to finish up for the evening.
"No, an island, we're still far from making our destination. We may be able to get wood through and replace the missing masts, and perhaps even a bit of fresh food. Not that we don't appreciate your work miss." Captain Tom nodded to me.
"No, I'd rather like some fruit and perhaps a bit of fresh meat myself." That got me a few chuckles from those nearby.
"Not liking my cooking then your ladyship?" The cook called jokingly as he pulled out the porridge that made a large part of our current diet.
"Oh, how could I ever? Just hoping for something other than salt pork and burgoo," I replied as I took my serving of the aforementioned goop.
Salted pork stayed fairly soft even after all the time we'd spent since it had been packed, but it just wasn't the same. For one, there was no escaping the fact that it was just salty as it could be, and no preparation method the cook had discovered could remedy that fact. Also it got a bit old after so many times eating it. I doubted we'd get beef, but perhaps there was something on that island that could help us vary our diets just a little bit.
