- Influence
- 24,559.00
Date: Frimary, 1765
Ralynn Waverunner, Boatswain
Gear and Supplies:
Riggin' all checked and proper. Canvas sails in fair shape, three spare topsails and two jibs stowed below. Carpenter's stocks full as per the papers. Rope aplenty, though I've asked for more hemp cordage from stores, seein' as we're headed north where the cold makes everything snap easier. Tar barrels counted and sealed tight.
Ship Innards:
Steam boiler inspected by Engineer Grimshaw. Coal bunkers filled to capacity (7 days at full steam, 18 at quarter power). Copper plating on hull intact, though showing some green patches near stern that'll need scrapin' after we return. Spare metal pipes and fittings for steam system stored in aft hold, along with tools I cannae name yet. Strange beast, this Hide, with her screws and pipes and hissing. Makes me nervous havin' fire in the belly of a wooden ship, but Engineer says it's no more dangerous than cookin' galley if tended proper.
Crew and Such:
87 souls aboard, countin' officers. Two new beasts sworn in today (Silvertongue Songfox and Greeneye, fox and rat). Muster done at midday bell. Had tae discipline two beasts (Morgan Liu and Vihmastaja) for talkin' out of turn and sassin' officers. Gave 'em fifteen buckets o' seawater and an hour up the mast. Made 'em perform for the crew at supper as well.
Sky and Sea:
Clear as crystal. Wind blowin' SW, good and steady. Glass standin' firm.
Leavin' Port:
Course laid for Urk. Cold gear handed out. Set tae sail with dawn tide, once Minister Ryalor gives word.
My Own Thoughts (nae for the official books)
Rough day, rough as barnacles. Can't stop thinkin' on my mother, which is funny in its way. Spent years thinkin' her the meanest beast in Alton Bay when she'd tan our hides for steppin' out o' line. Said her ears would fall off if she had tae tell us one more time tae mind ourselves. Now here I am, the one handlin' out the hidin's, and suddenly I see why she was always so stern wi' her two dozen kits.
Nae joy in it. None at all. Even when they earn it fair. Watchin' that water pour over Morgan and Vihma, I felt naught but the weight o' duty, heavy as an anchor chain. Kept tellin' myself it had tae be done, but still wondered what Ma would think o' her daughter now.
Minister Ryalor told me after about the prisoners from home—Billy Clubbs and Shorris. The same brutes who broke Mr. Mayfield's boy's leg and left old Whistler for the tide. Helped catch 'em myself, I did, and would've gladly stuck 'em through had they drawn steel. Now they're tae carry some queer idol that might sicken or kill 'em, might even take their souls if the Minister's ghost-talkers are right.
He says it's needful, and mayhaps it is. Mayhaps the good outweighs the bad when the stakes are high. But me belly went cold as northern seas hearin' him talk o' usin' beasts—any beasts—like tools tae be spent.
The Minister's a puzzle, that's sure. There's wisdom in him, and strength o' purpose, but somethin' else too—somethin' colder than the waters off Urk. He sees paths I cannae, plans I dinnae fathom. I trust him still, but wonder what other hard choices lie ahead.
Strange tae find myself missin' the cabbage fields and the smell o' fresh turned earth. Life was simple there—plant, tend, harvest, over and over like the seasons. No weighin' o' lives, no hard questions with harder answers.
But I chose the sea. Left Emily Cabbagepatch behind and became Ralynn Waverunner. Traded dirt for salt water, simplicity for adventure. And I'd do it again, hard days and all.
Tomorrow we sail north. Can't be dwellin' on doubts when there's work tae be done. The Hide needs a bosun who knows her business and does it quick and sure. The crew deserves that much.
Yet I hear Ma's voice as I drift tae sleep: "Mind how ye tend yer plants, lassie. Some need the whip o' rain and wind tae grow strong. Others wither under such. A wise paw knows the difference."
I pray tae whoever watches these waters that I learn that wisdom.
—RW
Ralynn Waverunner, Boatswain
Gear and Supplies:
Riggin' all checked and proper. Canvas sails in fair shape, three spare topsails and two jibs stowed below. Carpenter's stocks full as per the papers. Rope aplenty, though I've asked for more hemp cordage from stores, seein' as we're headed north where the cold makes everything snap easier. Tar barrels counted and sealed tight.
Ship Innards:
Steam boiler inspected by Engineer Grimshaw. Coal bunkers filled to capacity (7 days at full steam, 18 at quarter power). Copper plating on hull intact, though showing some green patches near stern that'll need scrapin' after we return. Spare metal pipes and fittings for steam system stored in aft hold, along with tools I cannae name yet. Strange beast, this Hide, with her screws and pipes and hissing. Makes me nervous havin' fire in the belly of a wooden ship, but Engineer says it's no more dangerous than cookin' galley if tended proper.
Crew and Such:
87 souls aboard, countin' officers. Two new beasts sworn in today (Silvertongue Songfox and Greeneye, fox and rat). Muster done at midday bell. Had tae discipline two beasts (Morgan Liu and Vihmastaja) for talkin' out of turn and sassin' officers. Gave 'em fifteen buckets o' seawater and an hour up the mast. Made 'em perform for the crew at supper as well.
Sky and Sea:
Clear as crystal. Wind blowin' SW, good and steady. Glass standin' firm.
Leavin' Port:
Course laid for Urk. Cold gear handed out. Set tae sail with dawn tide, once Minister Ryalor gives word.
My Own Thoughts (nae for the official books)
Rough day, rough as barnacles. Can't stop thinkin' on my mother, which is funny in its way. Spent years thinkin' her the meanest beast in Alton Bay when she'd tan our hides for steppin' out o' line. Said her ears would fall off if she had tae tell us one more time tae mind ourselves. Now here I am, the one handlin' out the hidin's, and suddenly I see why she was always so stern wi' her two dozen kits.
Nae joy in it. None at all. Even when they earn it fair. Watchin' that water pour over Morgan and Vihma, I felt naught but the weight o' duty, heavy as an anchor chain. Kept tellin' myself it had tae be done, but still wondered what Ma would think o' her daughter now.
Minister Ryalor told me after about the prisoners from home—Billy Clubbs and Shorris. The same brutes who broke Mr. Mayfield's boy's leg and left old Whistler for the tide. Helped catch 'em myself, I did, and would've gladly stuck 'em through had they drawn steel. Now they're tae carry some queer idol that might sicken or kill 'em, might even take their souls if the Minister's ghost-talkers are right.
He says it's needful, and mayhaps it is. Mayhaps the good outweighs the bad when the stakes are high. But me belly went cold as northern seas hearin' him talk o' usin' beasts—any beasts—like tools tae be spent.
The Minister's a puzzle, that's sure. There's wisdom in him, and strength o' purpose, but somethin' else too—somethin' colder than the waters off Urk. He sees paths I cannae, plans I dinnae fathom. I trust him still, but wonder what other hard choices lie ahead.
Strange tae find myself missin' the cabbage fields and the smell o' fresh turned earth. Life was simple there—plant, tend, harvest, over and over like the seasons. No weighin' o' lives, no hard questions with harder answers.
But I chose the sea. Left Emily Cabbagepatch behind and became Ralynn Waverunner. Traded dirt for salt water, simplicity for adventure. And I'd do it again, hard days and all.
Tomorrow we sail north. Can't be dwellin' on doubts when there's work tae be done. The Hide needs a bosun who knows her business and does it quick and sure. The crew deserves that much.
Yet I hear Ma's voice as I drift tae sleep: "Mind how ye tend yer plants, lassie. Some need the whip o' rain and wind tae grow strong. Others wither under such. A wise paw knows the difference."
I pray tae whoever watches these waters that I learn that wisdom.
—RW
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