...part 1

[defenderinfaith]

PART 1
​

The ship pitched softly as waves teased the hull. Gulls sank low into the waters chasing entrails as they flew from the bulkhead. Though in view of land the cook is determined to make his liquidly fish paste of a stew. The sharp salt air no longer burned his landlubber lungs as he pulled in a healthy breath. His stride easily matched the lolling of the waves, chuckling he remembered his first shaky baby steps when he’d first climbed aboard. The sun burned twice as harsh as blinding rays reflected from clear blue hills. The well worn deck no longer felt rough on the soles of his feel, now leathery with wear. Perching himself of the rail of the starboard stern, his clear blue eyes were sharp as they took not of every movement. Rough laughter played on the breeze as the foul concoction from below deck reach the crew. He heard a movement behind him, recognizing the uneven tread as Jessie, an old weathered sailor who’d take the land loving boy under his wing. Waiting he thought about his own appearance, broad tan shoulders, he’d filled out a lot, and instinctually knew none of the lads back home would mess with him now. Watching gray streaks in the waters he had learned from his months at sea, a storm was on it’s way.
“Whatcha seenin’ boy, or’sa dreamin’ ‘gain?” The sound was harsh, guttural but the meaning was softer, as the old dog came to rest by the young one. “A biggin’ Jessie. Luks like a biggin’.” His own voice hadn’t yet reached the hoarse level yet, still deep and soft. “Ain’t that the trut’ of it. Came the reply as the man pulled away. “Come acha’ boy, bes be a helpin’ nows.”

And a storm it was, clouds seemed to fall straight from heaven, rather than gathering from the eastward gusts. The sharp wind pulled water to the sky before causing the to pelt the deck into a slick rink, sailors sliding as they raced to keep the sails down. The rumbling in the air could rival the empty stomach of God, as even the waters quaked in fear. Electricity sparked the air like candle flames until lightening scared the clouds. Tipping nearly to the bulwark and washing the deck in icy water. The rain stung the skin like needles and as wave after wave of white tipped mountains bombarded the relatively small ship. Ropes snapped and strained with tension as coils and barrels took wing into the sea. Shouts, curses, pain and prayers played just under the roar if the storm. There was no line between water and sky as the vessel was pulled into the oblivion of the storm. It was a small wonder the ship didn’t snap like a twig, attesting the genius of the boats design. Yet water swarmed and filled every crack and port hole along the way. At times the boat was part of the clouds before the sea climbed high to claim its own. Bodies fairly flew from rail to rail, aft to bow, port to starboard, heaven to sea. One sailor loosing hold fell head first into the cabin, and moved only once more as the ocean waters buried him within it’s waves​

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