Let’s sea what Susan Brittain has to say, again

Literati! Pleased to welcome Susan Brittain to the shores that are A Word with You Press! Who will be the first to toss her a line? (Ahh! ‘Tis indeed the land of the double entundra!–I know, I can be tackless) All jest aside, who has not felt overwhelmed by a tempest, exhausted by a ritual of submitting to the whims of waves and wind?

Working the deck

by Susan Brittain
The gust was like a freight train, slow building but long, with rain that darkened the sky, leaving only  white caps visible on top of the churning sea. The schooner shifted to leeward, groaned, and plowed on downwind. Water jets shot skyward through the anchor hawsers, as waves crashed over the rails soaking the decks with confusion and foam, providing no safe haven for any crew member working on deck.

 
The Captain had known for an hour that shortening sail was the prudent thing to do, but a green crew, and an approaching shoal had delayed the order. “Prepare to gybe,” came a booming voice from back aft.  Two crew members worked their way forward, two stood by amidships to pass the foresail, and eight moved aft to haul in and pass across the giant mainsail attached to the fifty foot wooden boom. Their movements were lit by
the closing lighthouse as its flash seemed to scream, “Stay Away!”

 
“Five degrees, west,” the skipper barked, as the helmsman turned the wheel slowly, one spoke at a time. The schooner surfed down a wave and as it swept up the next, settled on the new course. “Five degrees more,” the Captain’s voice pleaded as the sound of pounding surf reverberated in the night air.

 
“Passing the headsails,” a voice from forward bellowed.
“Foresail across,” cried the midship crew.

 
Back aft, eight people, sixteen arms, heaved, and hoed; the start of a rhythm; a cadence as they began to haul in the mainsheet to bring the large sail and main boom to center. Sensing a change in the direction of the vessel the first mate screamed, “Drop the line” and quickly took a turn on the large cleat before the boom came crashing across. As the mainsail filled, the mate eased the line and the schooner surged on its new course. The pounding surf and lighthouse now passed safely astern. Ahead a new
light flashed, closing quickly.

 
“Sharpen up,” the Captain thundered, “we are going to make it through this passage tonight or be doomed … .Prepare to gybe, again!”

(Couldn’t think of a better illustration than our book cover. Dave is working on the third in the series, which we hope to publish in the next few months)

The Mason Key Volume 2 -David Folz

4 comments

  1. Parisianne Modert says:

    Without a knowledge of sailing, but an interest in both talented writing style and compelling storyline, I highly recommend this tale of the sea journey. Please forgive me if my critique sounds “gybe” … I mean glib as to attention offered.

  2. Diane Cresswell says:

    I thought I was on the Black Pearl for a moment there – could feel the water spray on my body. You have done a magnificent job in this description of the skill that is needed to make it through dangerous passages. Even with skill, one can still lose to the sea.

  3. Tiffany V says:

    How fun! And dangerous. You pulled me in with your descriptions and even if I didn’t speak the jargon like a native, I captured the meanings with the other description….

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