With the course set and the wind unlikely to shift too much, Wash has invited all of his guests to the deck to practice rigging runs. Unlike a longship with just a single sail, the caravel sports two or even three sails per mast, and as many jib sails on a close reach. This requires a crew of 4-6 men per sail to raise, reef and batten. And half of those crewmembers have to climb up the ratlines to the crossbeams trusting their balance and arm strength to keep them from falling to the deck.

The mainmast stands fully reefed, and Wash has gathered part of the crew, and the temporary officers there to run a drill. Everyone invited on the cruise was offered a temporary position as midshipman of the ship. When assembled, Wash has this to say:

"Now, this is the easiest climb possible while under way." Wash explains to new and experienced sailors alike. "In stormy weather, you would have to prepare for the unexpected, but in light winds, running before the wind, you can measure the pitch of the deck like you would your heartbeat. So, arm over arm, balance and agility. Always set two limbs solid before moving the other two. You'll each have a crew of two men, and will go up opposite sides of the mast. Your job is to drop the sail on the commanders' order, not before, not after. Are you ready?"

Thea looks a bit too excited to being leaving the city. She's inhaling the salty air but--paying close attention to Wash as well. "Right. Not before or after..."

Griffin joins in as before. Loose top, pants, a hat. He listens to Wash, and nods. Sound ok. Hard, but not so hard if he does what he's told! Careful climbs; watch for the words; easy. Right? He's got his initial time out as successful. Twice out should be easy!

Acacia seems at ease on board, the activities not seeming to be a surprise to the redheaded seafarer. However, she does seem to listen to Wash's words as one does when in the company of a person with such great experience and exceptional skills. A toss of her head to the men she's assigned, and she swaggers confidently to see to the assigned task with an"Aye-aye, Admiral" offered.

Wash leads the first ascent, climbing up the ratlines, and showing where the toeropes, hand ropes and battens are as they cross the mast. Then, when everyone has descended again to the port side, he divides the crew up into teams, and calls for time: "On my mark! Mark!"

Thea checks dexterity and sailing at easy. Thea is spectacularly successful.

Griffin checks composure and sailing at normal. Griffin is marginally successful.

Thea checks perception and leadership at easy. Thea is successful.

Acacia checks dexterity and sailing at easy. Acacia is marginally successful.

Griffin checks command and sailing at normal. Griffin is marginally successful.

Acacia checks command and sailing at easy. Acacia is marginally successful.

Acacia checks command and empathy at easy. Acacia is marginally successful.

Griffin checks perception and empathy at normal. Griffin is successful.

Thea checks command and sailing at easy. Thea is successful.

Acacia moves into the task, trying to keep her mind on her work, eyes aware of what is going on round her. But the little grin she sports seems to perhaps indicate her glee at being back on the water. With a shake of her head, she tries to get her mind back in the game. "You heard the man. All ready?" she calls out to the man on each side of her. The grin grows as the mark is called and she lets out with a grinning "Alright, lads. Let her go!"

Griffin listens and climbs up like he is shown. Not as good as he did the other time, but he was successful. Turns out it is in the blood. Who knew? Up he goes, and down he goes. Easy!

Thea gets right to work, a grin on her lips. What spews from her lips is so loud, even Calypso would be proud. Malvici blood is showing. "Right. You heard all that, yes? Get ready,"she calls. "Let her loose!"

Wash stays below, watching carefully everyone's progress. He isn't actually the one to give the order though, the commander on deck is Fellows, the first mate introduced when they came on board. Fellows stands patiently, stoically to one side of the pilot's shoulder. The commander is giving the word as Acacia and Griffin, something Acacia and Griffin both spot from his body language, not needing to decipher the call from thirty feet above.

The crew opposite Thea at the topsail is clearly inexperienced. A member of the fealty who has never climbed that high before. By the time he gets to the top he has dedicated all of his focus on just making sure his hands and feet keep him from falling. At an altitude of fifty five feet above the deck, all the leadership responsibilities fall on Thea. Both crews look to her for their timing instead.

Both sails unfurl without a hitch in the end. Any disparity in release marginally noticable at best.

Wash says, "Alright! Now, furl those sails again, and we'll go a second time." Wash barks out. Each of the sails has loops on its back side allowing someone laying prone on the topbeam to thread them collect them, one by one, and then tie them to the mast again."

Wash says, "Make those hitches tight! We'll have nasty weather on this trip or I'm a monkey, dead and drowned already."

"Aye aye!" Griffin calls out. "Look out below!" He's really into this. He does what he's told, curling up the loops, and fixing them to the mast. But he doesn't look very happy about the prediction of stormy weather.

The sails snap taunt and the rigging jolts as they catch the wind. Mindful, Acacia makes sure she's settled in just right to avoid any unfortunate fall that might cut her career (and potentially life) short. Another grin comes as she feels the massive ship respond and she draws in a deep breath and takes a moment to take in the view around them. The mention of storms has Acaca instinctively glancing to the sky. A slight squint and she's called back to task. "Aye-aye! All hands! Let's tuck her in, gents. Make sure she's cozy," she once and calls out again, keeping her men on top of the order. With able hands, they start up the work again seeing the sails neatly gathered up again.

Sunny summer weather doesn't predict any clouds so far, so Wash may be exaggerating for effect.

Someone is well--yeah. Thea enjoys this. It's obvious on her face as she directs her crew in their position. Again. Safely. When the sails are rolled up tight again, the Malvici's firm tone is gone. A slight smile on her face.

ending the ratlines can be just as harrowing as ascending. But over the course of the eight hour trip out of the bay, the crews alternate going up and down up and down until everyone is bone weary of the effort. Wash then invites the officers each to the Captain's table where a proper meal is laid out, courtesy of the ship's chief cook. There is a fully-dressed turkey, fresh fruit and vegetables, and even a cake with one side unevenly cut and molded to look like their destination, Pearlspire. There are only ten or twelve officers to eat at the table as at least a quarter of them will need to stay on watch all night as they head NE out into deeper water.

With dinner come the tired! "You know, it's fun to do this once in a little bit, but I think I would have to work on my balance and dexterity! My arms and legs are killing me." But it's a good ache, Griffin decides.

Acacia is happy to help out as she can. Late night watches are something she's no stranger to. Fortunately for tonight it seems that duty is given to another. The cozy comraderie when dinning at the officers table, even with a crew not your own, is something the curvy Culler enjoys. A soft grin lays light on her lips as she listens to the discussion. "My first voyage out, I had no idea, myself. Too young and dumb to realize. I found muscles I didn't know I had," she winks across to Griffin and nudges a pitcher closer to him so he can enjoy another glass.

"All of you have done some sailing before. And it's unlikely you'll ever -have- to climb the shrouds again as captain's of your own vessel. However, I thought that the drill might be more useful to you at later points. There are interminable stretches of nothing to do at sea. Drilling keeps the mind active, body strong, discipline tight, and anytime your crew hear of someone falling off, or overboard on some other ship, they'll bless you for it in their minds. That drill keeps them alive." Wash explains. "Now, what would you like to study tomorrow? We'll stand off from shore until at least midday, then I will challenge each of you to devise a proper heading based on the estimated location on one of my maps. That leaves us at least two or three more exercises we could devise for the crew."

"Aye." Griffin uses the 'lingo' (at least the 'aye aye!') without even noticing. "Wash.. er the Captain, offered to bring me out to try. I figured, I'm a Redreef, I should at least try it! It's not too bad. Of course, he hasn't made us do the hard stuff." He thanks Acacia for his drink, and thinks about *what should they do tomorrow *. "How about a quick change in directions?"

Acacia smirks and pauses to swallow before speaking again. "Never say never. Besides, can't very well hold my head high, captain or not, if I can't do the work," she winks easily to Wash. A slight grin is given to Griffin as he asks about turning. "Q-turns or circle turns? What are you hoping to accomplish," she asks.

Wash says, "Broad reach to broad reach we could do. Wind is usually Northerly along the coast this time of year. An exercise we should do in the morning I think, before we set a course for Pearlspire." He looks to Acacia. "Could do sunwise and widdershins, but with the currents being with us, the antecedent turn will be rather sharp. Also, something we should practice before choosing a heading. I think I can manage both."

Thea admits as she takes a few bits of foods, swallowing it down with a drink. "I was raised to judge people how they've worked. Just because your noble doesn't always mean--,"her words trailing. Yep. Drinks. "Do you know how many knots I had to tie before I could even learn to do anything,"the Malvici exhales as she takes a sip.

Acacia's smirk rises again, though she shoots Thea an approving grin as she picks another choice bit of meat from her plate. "Can't hurt. I'm game. Captain's call, though," she nods Wash's way.

Wash explains, for the less experienced. "When turning a ship in a circle, you have two heading points at which you can have complete failure. The first is when you are caught in irons. As long as you have some way you'll slide through that into the postcedent turn, this is with a beam reach. With the current and the wind on our port side, that will be a slow turn, you'll have plenty of time to reef the sails. The second complete failure comes when the wind shifts from port to starboard as you gibe. If a line isn't tight enough, or a crewmember is in the wrong position, they can lose a finger, or crack a skull from the force of the wind bringing the topbooms across. Assuming you make it through there safely, you have the antecedent turn, this is just before you return to your original heading. The current will be forcing you that direction, and the wind forcing you the other. You'll have to trim the sails quickly and accurately or lose your way. Single-handedly, there's no limit to how many of those you could do in a small ship, but in a large one, you could make a competition of seeing how many you can do before just one crewmember out of twenty makes a mistake."

Alright. That about wraps us for scene one, two? 1 more to go, or 2 depending on how you count.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: The next morning, the seas are light, and the breeze northerly, as one would expect. There are several small atolls or islands visible to the East, uninhabitable due to a lack of fresh water, and the fact that some of them disappear periodically during the year. The morning crew, completely different sailors from yesterday's evening watch are skylarking, as the Candlelight coasts through light seas and shallow waters. (Shallow meaning only 30 feet deep.)

Griffin *yawns*. Apparently it's still bedtime for him.

Acacia stands on deck, arms folded lightly across her chest, and her eyes peering out as she runs a tongue over her teeth in thought.

Climbing to her feet, Thea stretches for a moment. Her long limbs reaching toward the sky. She looks out at the horizon, eyebrow lifted.

Wash announces the exercise to the crew and the reactions are mixed, mostly unenthusiastic. When he announces that they'll do the exercise twice under two commanders, there is even less enthusiasm. As long as the ship is going in circles, all that effort gets them no closer to their destination.

Griffin checks command and sailing at normal. Griffin is marginally successful.


*** Wash has called for an opposing check with Griffin. ***
Wash checks command and sailing at easy. Wash is successful.
Griffin checks command and sailing at easy. Griffin is marginally successful.
*** Wash is the winner. ***

The mix respons to the crew is met with a quiet look as she moves to stand by Thea's side. "Ready?" she winks and grins slighly. "Easy peasy as pie," she nods with utterly untethered cocksure confidence.

Acacia checks command and sailing at easy. Acacia is marginally successful.

Wash checks command and sailing at easy. Wash is successful.

Griffin checks command and sailing at easy. Griffin marginally fails.

Wash checks command and sailing at normal. Wash is successful.

Acacia checks command and sailing at normal. Acacia is successful.

Acacia checks command and sailing at hard. Acacia is marginally successful.

Wash checks command and sailing at hard. Wash marginally fails.

Acacia checks command and sailing at daunting. Acacia fails.

Thea checks command and sailing at easy. Thea is successful.

Thea checks command and sailing at normal. Thea is successful.

Thea checks command and sailing at hard. Thea is marginally successful.

Thea checks command and sailing at daunting. Thea fails.

Griffin checks command and sailing at normal. Griffin fails.

Griffin checks command and sailing at daunting. Griffin fails.

Griffin checks command and sailing at hard. Griffin fails.

Wash insists on going first. If he's wrong about the depth of the water, he'd rather learn that with himself at the helm. He lets Griffin have the wheel while he calls out commands. There is no excuse for his failure. The wind dies at the wrong moment, he doesn't react fast enough to correct for it, and the ship dies in irons, thirty tons and a hundred thousand man hours, might as well be a raft. Wash tucks his hat under his arm. "Bad luck my friend." He tells the helmsman Griffin. "Morning winds are fickle creatures."

"Aye aye, and are they just!" Griffin once a half step off from to get go.

Maybe it was just plain bad luck that Wash and Griffin ran into trouble. Likely. Or maybe it was just the amazing rapport the ladies seem to have with the crew. Also likely. Acacia is quietly confident as she takes her post and quietly confers with Thea. At least for the most part. Though, she can't seem to help but offer a roguish grin Thea's way as the orders are called out to the crew. Call it luck. Call it experience and talent. Either way, it would seem that the ladies pull through.

Thea watches Wash and Griffin. She clearly disagrees with only part of their control. Looking to Acacia, Thea murmurs to her,"I think we should turn the wheel a bit more,"and further shows her the way. "The wind seems to be blowing more in that way." A smile is given to the red head and together they both make way.

The three islands on the horizon pass the bow three times instead of two with the ladies at the helm, and Wash takes off his hat again when they finish their last antecedent turn. "You kept her nose to the wind admirably." He says, cheerful for their success, his earlier failure forgotten. "Shall we retire to the maproom?" The maproom is the exact same room where there was a dining table before, just smaller now that the dining table is employed as partitions to break up the space beneath the quarterdeck. A young man has already selected the map from the stores that Wash is going to need. He outlines the basics of choosing a new heading. "Now, we travelled for fifteen hours along this traderoute here, which would take us to maelstrom. At an average velocity of five point seven knots. Which should put us, by my math... here. Notice there are no traderoute crossing our point. Normally, you would sail until you found a trade route crossing your own, close enough to an island on your map to get a dead reckoning. Then you take that trade routes heading. We are going to figure that out on our own. Here is a compass, here are the points of the compass, and here is the map. As the crow flies, the heading on the compass should be somewhere in the vicinity of Pearlspire. But there is a problem. We can guess our speed will be 5.7 knots, but we must also take into account the current. Considering how the current affected our ship in relation to the Maelstrom route, what heading shall we take that will lead us to Pearlspire."

Thea checks intellect and sailing at hard. Thea marginally fails.

Acacia checks intellect and sailing at hard. Acacia is marginally successful.

Griffin checks intellect and investigation at hard. Griffin fails.

Acacia stands with the other, hand lightly resting on the hilt of a blade worn slung low on the lift side as she studies the map. "There," she nods and draws her finger across lightly with a look to Wash in consultation. "She'll put into a pretty path that way, but I don't know how fast the ship will cross. What do you think?"

Thea looks at the map and lifts an eyebrow. Clearly she isn't see something, so she simply listens to the others for now.

Griffin just looks at it, and frown. Wash might be able to decide what Griffin is put out about. "Sure." He has no clue.

Wash reviews Acacia's suggestion and nods. "We can assume we'll make at least the same speed as last night, so that heading will work unless the wind freshens up. If we go to slow, we'll need to adjust course, if we pick up speed though, we'll just head north as soon as we hit sight the shoreline. Worst situation would be ending up on the far side of Pearlspire, then heading North to find it. Every hour north of Pearlspire is three hours beating downwind to get back to it. Alright, we'll go on Midshipman Culler's heading. Here's the watch schedule, I suggest that you get a little shuteye. I have all three of you on the dogs watch."

Acacia offers a nod and draws a breath. "Sound good. You know where to find me. Until then," she grins giving Thea a playful bump of her hips as she heads out to find her bunk for a bit.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: Dog's watch is called that because it starts when the Dogstar rises, the first choice's star, said to rise early every night to look for Skald the wanderer. Of course, five years ago no one really knew who Skald was, so it's just as common for someone to think it has to do with dogs making better night watchmen than people. Normally as the sun sets, the wind starts to blow toward the shore, but tonight it is especially frisky, and the measurement indicate the ship is moving along at almost eight knots, with a fierce breeze from the East, on the starboard side of the ship, twice as strong. It is dark, low clouds have scudded in rather quickly and hidden both stars and moon.

"..and here is the storm he promised us." Griffin is awake, unlike the last time, but he's still lost as far as he goes. Hopefully, the instructions will be clear!

Since it is not a stealth mission, the ship has plenty of running lights, lanterns strung from the mast and rails, anywhere the deck steps up or down, like the quarterdeck. Watch commander is Acacia uller, but there are eight crew men as well, a skeleton or night crew. In deference to the dark, they are running only topsails and jibs. If there was full light, they might have all sails going and be closer to twelve knots at the waterline. As the rain arrives, hot lanterns sizzle accompanies the patter of the rain on the sails.

Acacia doesn't look overly pleased at the change in the weather. Not upset nor particularly worried. Just watchful as the front moves in. As the storm seems to build, the easy grin seems to slip to a more serious line and she becomes a little more quiet.

A soft grunt is the reply to Griffin as Acacia looks out again and steadies her footing as the great ship reacts to the pitch and reel of the growing winds and waves.

"Fuck. We're not going to outrun it," she mutters and nod to the others. "Oi, heads up. We're being asked to dance and if she looses her dress Wash will kick my ass," she hollers up to her men. "All hands on deck if she's gonna get fussy. Lord Griffin, you want to give Admiral Wash a poke. Though I'm sure the man's already fussing. He's got a nose for it," she grins with what might be just a hint of fondness for the old salt.

"I've been through worse,"Thea admits. "Though doesn mean nothing can't happen." She steadies herself, going out to help the other sailors.

"Very well" Griffin gives a nod, and proceeds to alert Wash.

Watch orders are issued for the freshening wind, but as Griffin sets foot on the stairs to go below and inform senior officers of changing weather conditions, the wind suddenly changes direction. Sails flap, lines snap, the deck heels to the left. The wheel, previously easily controlled with one hand, becomes a live thing wrestling to put itself in the easiest position, which, unfortunately, with the jib sails still battened for a starboard breeze has them all aback on the foremast. But worse is the mainsail, spun around in its moorings by the sudden breeze it has come loose from its moorings, and unfurled, flapping it's full length down to head height, with lines snapping in the wind.

Griffin checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Critical Success! Griffin is spectacularly successful.

Griffin yells for the senior staff. "Were losing the mainsail! Everyone on board, now!"

Acacia checks composure and sailing at normal. Acacia is successful.

"And they say I'm cocksure at they come," Acacia laughs and tosses a grin Thea's way before shaking her head and starting to issue orders to start preparing for what is going to be a bit of a rough ride. "Batten down the hatches, and get that rigging set. Pull that cord tight, sailor! We don't want that cutting loose in this," she calls out to the crew. "Trim her sails. We need her holding together. Hold that wheel, dammit."

Thea checks composure and sailing at normal. Thea marginally fails.

Griffin checks composure and sailing at normal. Griffin fails.

Thea hops to work, and amusedly regards to Acacia. "I think your crown is crooked then. Better fix it." Shouting out about the storm, the Malvici calls,"The helm, I think that should be worked on first,"making her way.

Griffin returns to the main deck and is confused. Everybody is going to something else, and finally, the worst thing that he can do would be to take control. Instead, follows the closest sailors and follows he orders. It might be the wrong thing, but at least he thinks they know that to do. Hopefully.

Thea checks strength and athletics at normal. Thea marginally fails.

Acacia eyes the waves that seem to grow with ferocity. A few choice cusses are issued under the redhead's breath, but you'd swear there's a glint of a grin in her eyes. Challenge accepted, the Red Culler is up for it. "She's gonna try to swamp us," she calls back to Griffin and Thea. "We'll have to counter her and fast. I need muscle on that wheel to hold her to keep her beam out of trough. Tie downs. She's going to breach us and I want no one over board. Call them to heel. Two men on the wheel at least and get her right so we can keep her true. She turns on her side and we're all swimming," the woman calls out to the crew. "Then trim the jib on the new tack to stop the draw. Once we have her in a better place, get that flapping sail in tight. We need all the control we can get! MOVE!"

Acacia checks command and leadership at normal. Acacia is marginally successful.

Griffin checks perception and sailing at hard. Griffin is marginally successful.

It's a long minute of flapping sails and howling wind. There is clear activity belowdecks as the crew rouses itself from slumber onto the decks. The senior staff come out from under the quarterdeck, and the crew opens the hatches forward to come out and assist. The wheel controlling the tiller shakes like a wild animal under Thea's grip. The helmsman is doing his best on the other side, but the two of them don't have the leverage yet to get the helm to do what they want. Acacia keeps an eye on the progress with the jibs while coaching those with hands on the tiller when to pull for the optimum effect aagainst the waves.

That's when the stormsurge comes over the starboard gunnel. Sailors coming out of the forrard hatch retreat, closing it from the outside. They'll have to come up the other side or risk swamping the craft. Senior staff, coming out from below deck are led by the captain in his nightshirt. He's familiar enough with the way a ship moves to know they are in trouble. He probably knows exactly what to do, but whatever order is about to come out of his mouth is cut short as a wet line tangles around his foot and he is lofted into the air by the flapping mainsail. "Aieeeee!" His silhouette disappears against the dark sky and does not come back down where the lanterns are lit.

The jibsails have literal tons of pressure on the fabric, but experience in making turns has taught you all that cutting them free would make the ship harder to keep on course in the unpredictable wind.

Now that he has *something* to do, Griffin brain settles down, and works! It's not the perfect solution, but hopefully it's enough to give Acacia the space that she needs. He puts he attention to the wheel. But damn is it hard!

Thea checks strength and sailing at easy. Thea is successful.

Griffin checks strength and sailing at easy. Griffin is marginally successful.

Acacia's eyes widen as the man gets ripped from his feet and drawn up into the black stormy sky. A call of man overboard rings out but there's too much storm to wrestle for her to be distracted. But thank the gods above, Thea and Griffin put there backs into it giving her time to act.

Acacia checks strength and sailing at easy. Acacia is successful.

Griffin has to brace against to wind as the attempts to go to the helm, but eventually he makes it!

Fellows, the first mate, gives instruction to the sailors to work on the jibs and loosen the topsails. He sends one to batten down the other starboard hatches. Then he gets his knife out, shouts: "I'm coming Captain!" And putting the knife between his teeth, begins climbing the ratlines in the storm.

Thea puts everything she into gripping the wheel. "Fuuuuuck,"she yells. She looks over to Griffin, nodding to him as she helps him out. At the mention of the captain going over, Thea shouts,"Do you need help?!"

"Quickly, keep your hands on it. Follow my lead!" Or hers. Either one! "We've got to keep steady, ok?"

The heading finally comes to a compromise that gives the ship both way (forward movement) and shelter from the waves. None are quite as powerful as that first one, and it is apparent to anyone with good eyesight and sailing skill how the jibs need to be trimmed. But up close, the crew seem to be having trouble deciding what to do with the sails and spray in their faces. Some direction would be good, but it would need to be both very commanding and very specific in order to keep the ship moving forward.

The topsails have come down, which means that the ship sways less under the power of the sudden storm, but that also means that the jibs are the only thing between a ship with power and a ship without.

A look of relieve, mostly, finds Acacia's face as Fellows heads up to save the Captain. Not missing a beat, she turns her eyes to the jib. Calling a few of the newly arrived sturdy sailors to hold the helm true, she turns to Thea and Griffin. Expression grim, her hard darkened with bring and rain, she shouts over the wind and roar of the waves. "Let's get those jibs set again and see to that loose sail. We're backing into the current. We need more control. With me?" she calls out.

Acacia checks command and leadership at normal. Acacia is marginally successful.

"Aye aye!" Griffin agrees. "Jibs, then mainsails"

Griffin checks strength and sailing at easy. Griffin is marginally successful.

Thea checks dexterity and sailing at hard. Thea is marginally successful.

The trick to trimming the jibs while underway and backward is to let the slack out slowly. Barehanded attempts have cost people fingers. Acacia and Griffin are both more cautious than that. Acacia points out exactly where to put the belaying pins and Griffin lends his muscle to the effort. Thea leaves the tiller in the hands of the helmsman and another midshipman. Then she rallies the two men she did this exercise with before and races up the shrouds.

Lightning strikes, very near to the Candlelight, and it illuminates the trouble in the rigging. The captain is dangling from the topbeam of the mainsail. He's clearly unconscious. Fellows, the First mate is entangled in the shrouds, leaning way out and trying to grab the captain. If he shakes loose, he'll fall sixty feet into the ocean, or if he's lucky, onto the deck. The jibs trim to the starboard side, giving the helmsman more leeway with the tiller. The mainsail is still dangerous, with multiple lines lashing the deck, but so far everyone has been lucky to stay clear of them. Well, other than the captain.

Acacia checks dexterity and sailing at normal. Acacia is marginally successful.

Thea checks dexterity and athletics at daunting. Thea fails.

Leaving her other two sailors to the mainsail, Thea starts up to the topbeam. Looking down, she exhales as she starts to make her way across. Best way she see fits? Sliding her body. Which noooooope! There's a squeak from her lips when her body rolls, looking at everyone upside down, the rain beating on her. "Fuck. Shit. Damnit!"the Malvici can be heard from above.

Eyes on the prize the main sail is given the fight of it's life. Undaunted, or maybe just getting down to business, Acacia and a few of the crew get ahold of the lead lines and begin to wrestle them under control, the curvy Culler calling out orders as she nearly loses her footing on the slick deck. The two crew members with Thea start dragging up the sail. Soon, but not soon enough, there's no longer any flailing lines, just flapping cloth. Then there's a curse coming from above. "Fuck," Acacia whispers and draws a deep breath.

Griffin checks composure and sailing at hard. Griffin fails.

Griffin checks strength and medium wpn at daunting. Griffin marginally fails.

Griffin tries to get a belaying pin to the sailor.. Totally miss him.. but, and could it a big but, he grapples to top beam.

The topsail luffs in the wind. Each flap of the sail mirrored by the sway of the captain's hands. The belaying pin that Griffin threw is wedged allows him to keep tension on the beam, possibly drag it closer to Fellows. Thea made it only a few steps long the same beam from the opposite direction before suffering a similar fate. At least she is still conscious. Half of the mainsail is still loose, but it would be easy to get it back under control. Meanwhile, it would be a daunting task to time it just right so that the boom, the captain and Fellows all meet at the same time without wind or sail sending one or all of them into the drink.

Thea checks dexterity and sailing at hard. Thea is marginally successful.

Slothing her way across the topbeam, straddling the damn thing, is Thea. Carefully. And slowly. The rain is definitely not her friend. As she finally makes her way to the captain, Thea is finally to adjust to normal. Grasping for the Captain, she looks at him. Squinting. "You're kidding me,"she sighs. "Let's go Captain Wash,"the Malvici mumbles to the unconscious man. "You're getting a glitter box like Ian."

The ship is weathering the storm just fine now. The crew competently trims the jibs to give the helm some way. The senior midshipman orders the crew to shake a reef out of the foresail. This stabilizes the ship again, letting it meet each wave with renewed vigor. It would not have been an emergency at all if it weren't for the mainsail coming flapping loose. Thea holds the captain's hand long enough for a line to be passed up and around his middle, made fast and then lowered to the deck. There is matted hair where the boom hit his skull in the dark, but no signs of trouble breathing. He has always had a tendency to lead with his head.

The rest of the evening is tense, with few people readily getting back to sleep with the wind whipping unpredictably. But aside from putting a regular crew on deck until the weather moderates, there are no other changes needed to the schedule. Even with the stronger breeze, there is little reason to believe that the shoreline will even be in sight before dawn.