NPC
Joined: August 1st, 2010, 9:04 am

February 23rd, 2011, 5:55 pm #11

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NEIL DONOVAN, Carpenter’s mate[/align]

Given that “Fate’s Hand” was a snow, it took less than for a ship-of-the line to get disguised into a merchantman. Actually there have been enough snows used in this purpose in the Caribbean. Only that Neil’s task – and the other carpenters’ more than other seamen’s – was to make her look as different as possible from the well known privateer ship. Therefore, the masts had been replaced with a bit lower ones, and the topmen had worked a bit to change the rigging accordingly. The decorations on the gunports and sterncastle had to be changed too – and this was what the carpenters had been working at for days and days.

Of course, the actual change and the painting of the new name would occur only when they would arrive at the meeting point, because otherwise the spies pirates had obviously in every port would have learnt about the trick, but everything should have been done until then. The young mermaid depicted in the figurehead – some people gossiped that it was Captain Ashton’s deceased wife who was used as a model – would have to be replaced too, and Neil was working now at the sculpture of a sailor or a merchant, given that the new name of the disguised ship would be „Wayfarer”. What more for a radical transformation?

Neil had cut beech planks of various widths, but all of them at the same length of 6 foot, then the wood was laid out and care taken to arrange the planks in such a fashion, that the end grain was not in critical carving places like the sailor’s face and hands. All the carpenters had clamped the block well so that he could start carving the top of the head, up to the shoulders, but he stopped frequently for measurements. Nothing should be out of place. When he needed some hands of help to keep the block of wood still, he looked around and spotted Sharky and his Irish compatriots.

”Please, who’s coming to help me? I need two pairs of hands here now,” he asked nicely.

It would take some good days until this wooden sailor would look as required, but the first mate didn't understand this. For him was easy: everything to be done and ready now, as if a fairy would do any miracle in this regard.


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Christian McGarrigle
Christian McGarrigle

February 23rd, 2011, 7:55 pm #12

Christian said his joke quietly, and it had taken a lot for him to say even that much. He generally stayed out of conversations, preferring instead to observe, but sometimes he wondered if he should try to be a little more outgoing and forthcoming with his words. He was largely alone in his world; even though he was part of a crew and one of the topmen he did his best to keep to himself.

When he'd first set to sea he'd been homesick as all hell. He missed his family, but most of all he missed Joseph, his brother with whom he'd shared an easy relationship. Only a year apart, they were nearly inseparable as boys and young men, and although neither one was particularly garrulous or emotional, they both knew that when one needed help the other would be there.

It wasn't easy to accept that Joseph had joined the British navy after what those limey bastards stole their home out from under them, but Christian knew that were he in contact with his brother he wouldn't be able to hold it against him. He made his choice, Christian had made his, but in the end they were still brothers.

While he'd held himself apart from the rest of the crew, there were often times when he found himself missing that easy camaraderie that he shared with Joseph. The warm days at sea and exciting locales made Christian's job worth the risk he'd taken when he left Ireland, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit to being terribly homesick at times -- even now, a year later.

Before he could gauge how well his joke was received, a voice sounded from across the deck, asking for help. Fear of being caught standing around by the quartermaster propelled Christian across the deck, hesitantly at first, as though one of the others might beat him to it and he could retreat below decks.

He stopped in front of Neil, the carpenter's mate, another man he didn't know particularly well. That he was Irish was clear, although Christian had to wonder how well the man held to his roots since he wasn't from Ireland but from the Colonies, based on his accent.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his stance tense as his eyes roamed over the block of wood.

Shirai Masaki
Shirai Masaki

February 24th, 2011, 7:27 pm #13

Sharky had mentally finished this day already. He had looked somewhat forwards to a meal - of which maybe half was edible, but the shares were generous enough to make up for this - a brief while of recuperation and then curling up to sleep onto a heap of torn sails to sleep.
The japanese topman was a little scared of hammocks, therefore he preferred this resting place.
But now... it seemed to him as if this time of rest was again far away...

Shoulders slumping slightly, he sighed and dutifully troted over to Neil to find out what was to be done again, blood trickling down his ars in little rivulets and migling with the salt water.
"What need do, Neru?" he asked, resigned to his fate to a few more hours of work.

NPC
Joined: August 1st, 2010, 9:04 am

March 6th, 2011, 3:01 pm #14

[align=center]
NEIL DONOVAN, Carpenter’s mate[/align]


Neil smiled friendly at Chris, a fellow Irishman whom he knew mostly from afar, as usually topmen and those who worked on the deck or below the deck, like him, met less often – of course, except the few respite moments when songs started, and everybody who wasn’t on duty then was surrounding the singers. However, one could hear rather often Irish songs aboard a ship… Now, he was the first one to answer to his call for help.

”Hold these tight in one place, please, and don’t let them move!” he explained, showing with his eyes and nose the pieces of wood.

He hoped that the other gunner boy, as strong and as tall as Chris, and closer to him, would come too, but the one who did, instead, was Sharky, his Oriental friend. He asked what was to be done, and received the same answer as Chris, Sharky turned to the left, in order to catch better the pieces of wood. He didn’t have as long arms as Chris and the gunner boy, but he still could help. However, when he turned, Neil saw the blood dripping down Sharky’s back and he worried. Fortunately, what Neil wanted from them was more precision than force, so he wouldn’t exhaust his friend more.

”Sharky, how are you feeling? What happened to you, where is that blood coming from? I guess you have to see Doc.”


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Shirai Masaki
Shirai Masaki

March 6th, 2011, 3:58 pm #15

Sharky strained his small frame against the wood... true, it wasn't heavy for the larger and broader westerners, but to him, it felt like a ton by now. Nevertheless, he was used to work hard sice childhood and the idea to slack had never been in his mind, not even on the spanish ships he had been serving on. In his understanding of the world, one worked if one had to and rested if one could, although he wouldn't have minded to rest now...
Neils surprised question about the blood and his advice to see the doctor, made Sharky chuckle quietly.
"No is bad, Ne-ru."
he replied quietly.
"You know, me is dive, clean barnacles under ship. Dive all day... maybe... dive no is look hard, but is, after hour and hour. And barnacles angry, for we eat many their friends... when me no take care, barnacles is revenge for dead friends."
he tried to joke, his slender muscles straining against the weight.

NPC
Joined: August 1st, 2010, 9:04 am

March 12th, 2011, 1:50 pm #16

[align=center]
NEIL DONOVAN, Carpenter’s mate[/align]


Neil was worried about Sharky, because he knew the little critter didn’t dare to complain or simply tell his problems – this came, probably, from his many years of being a frightful slave. And he knew the man was stubborn enough to resist even when he couldn’t anymore… However, Sharky’s unexpected answer made him chuckle about the way how he explained that the blood came from being cut by barnacles.

“I have never said it isn’t hard to spend so much time without breathing. I understand you are tired, and I won’t keep you long here. But I think you should take care, here and with the salty water any wound can get nasty.”

With the two men’s help he managed to fasten together the right angle of the figurehead, then he got a piece of charcoal which had been carefully wrapped in his pocket, and he started measuring and drawing lines.

“I am really grateful for your help, he told them both. “Certainly I couldn’t have managed to do it without you.”

It wasn’t work for only one person, but who would believe and understand him if he complained? Not the boatswain, neither the quartermaster, and even less the first mate. Every carpenter got a part of the job to do… as if he could do it by himself.

He continued carving the shape of the new figurehead, which got slowly coming alive, with each stroke of the knife, while listening to the men's discussion.

[align=center] - THE END - [/align]


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
Last edited by NPC on March 25th, 2011, 3:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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