81 Ymiden 713
As much as those who called the Meridian’s Beacon home worked hard and lived hard, they were also allowed the occasional trial to play hard.
Or soft.
Or slow.
Or to do with their periods of leisure as they saw fit.
The brig had dropped anchor near a sheltered bay on the southern coast of Rharne, where the Orm’del Sea and Crescent Sea met. It was a familiar place they frequented when weather and schedules allowed - and where GalePyrre’s birthname had been born thirteen arcs ago.
Although one could argue that no wild place in Idalos was safe, this was one of the calmer spots they frequented, and, on this particular trial, the spot was especially sedate. The bay was a relatively barren stretch of beach, composed of squat dunes and dotted with the odd wooly and spiny bunches of sea purslane, shy tips of beach elder, as well as straggly tufts of panicgrass. Rocks and boulders, rounded and shaped by wind and waves, further broke up the monotony of golden sand and clear blue waters, with a large collection stretching out to sea along the western side. And though many might think of it as desolate, the crew of the Meridian’s Beacon saw it as the paradise that it was.
A rope ladder hung off each side of the bow along with various other ropes, one extending all the way out to the shore where it was tethered securely to one of the larger rocks. It hung slack, laying on the water and undulated with each lazy wave. A series of short lengths of twine had been tied to this rope, and baited hooks to each bit of twine in hopes of securing some fresh fish for the evening.
Those wishing to keep to the ship stuck to carving fids and hooks from bone and wood or patching clothing and sails. Others joked or sang and some played along with hand drums or lutes and clothing and bedding strung up to dry flapped along meekly to the beat. There were always two sitting aloft, tasked with keeping watch, each with a crude wooden whistle that they could sound if any threat - marine or otherwise - might arise. Those wishing time away from the ship sought the sea.
The brig had come to anchor so that the bay was abeam to port, with the waters to the left - or port - side of the ship being shallower. The braver and more adventurous members of the crew opted to take turns jumping from the starboard side into the deeper, darker waters. Challenges rang out between crewmen who felt the need to outdo one another, and it became a test of nerves as one climbed higher than the other and the next higher still until it was a competition between who would jump from aloft.
Unlike these crewmen, Gale stuck to jumping from the rail. The exhilaration of the drop from that height to the sea below was enough for the youth and he delighted in each jump he made - the feeling of the rush of the air against his wet skin during his freefall, the sharp sting of the cold water against his sun-warmed skin as it engulfed him, and the peaceful silence that surrounded him once he was beneath the surface. Then he would frantically kick and pull until he surfaced, making the few laborious strokes needed to get back to the rope ladder where he would slowly climb his way back up to the deck to do it all again.
Or soft.
Or slow.
Or to do with their periods of leisure as they saw fit.
The brig had dropped anchor near a sheltered bay on the southern coast of Rharne, where the Orm’del Sea and Crescent Sea met. It was a familiar place they frequented when weather and schedules allowed - and where GalePyrre’s birthname had been born thirteen arcs ago.
Although one could argue that no wild place in Idalos was safe, this was one of the calmer spots they frequented, and, on this particular trial, the spot was especially sedate. The bay was a relatively barren stretch of beach, composed of squat dunes and dotted with the odd wooly and spiny bunches of sea purslane, shy tips of beach elder, as well as straggly tufts of panicgrass. Rocks and boulders, rounded and shaped by wind and waves, further broke up the monotony of golden sand and clear blue waters, with a large collection stretching out to sea along the western side. And though many might think of it as desolate, the crew of the Meridian’s Beacon saw it as the paradise that it was.
A rope ladder hung off each side of the bow along with various other ropes, one extending all the way out to the shore where it was tethered securely to one of the larger rocks. It hung slack, laying on the water and undulated with each lazy wave. A series of short lengths of twine had been tied to this rope, and baited hooks to each bit of twine in hopes of securing some fresh fish for the evening.
Those wishing to keep to the ship stuck to carving fids and hooks from bone and wood or patching clothing and sails. Others joked or sang and some played along with hand drums or lutes and clothing and bedding strung up to dry flapped along meekly to the beat. There were always two sitting aloft, tasked with keeping watch, each with a crude wooden whistle that they could sound if any threat - marine or otherwise - might arise. Those wishing time away from the ship sought the sea.
The brig had come to anchor so that the bay was abeam to port, with the waters to the left - or port - side of the ship being shallower. The braver and more adventurous members of the crew opted to take turns jumping from the starboard side into the deeper, darker waters. Challenges rang out between crewmen who felt the need to outdo one another, and it became a test of nerves as one climbed higher than the other and the next higher still until it was a competition between who would jump from aloft.
Unlike these crewmen, Gale stuck to jumping from the rail. The exhilaration of the drop from that height to the sea below was enough for the youth and he delighted in each jump he made - the feeling of the rush of the air against his wet skin during his freefall, the sharp sting of the cold water against his sun-warmed skin as it engulfed him, and the peaceful silence that surrounded him once he was beneath the surface. Then he would frantically kick and pull until he surfaced, making the few laborious strokes needed to get back to the rope ladder where he would slowly climb his way back up to the deck to do it all again.
