After a while, when the sun had receded and the sounds of nights creatures gave him cause for alarm, he stood and crept noiselessly to one of the crates. He looked over his shoulder, Some part of him was still wary of unseen assailants. Predators who could peer into his soul, survivors who would recognize his treachery. Using a piece of steel that had found its way onto the beach, he wedged open the soggy crate and rifled through its contents: 50 feet of rope, spoiled rations, a cask of 180 proof vodka; the cheap stuff. An old navy revolver he hoped he wouldn't find cause to use; a small box of .45cal shells, a survival knife, and dry uniforms. perfect, The first mate stripped down from his tattered cargo shorts and what remained of a tank top and put on the clean get up. He stuffed the revolver in his pants along with the flare gun and set course for the jungle ahead. Without a radio he would have to signal for rescue, but there was no guarantee rescue would come.
A piece of him hoped it would not.
Carefully he fashioned a hammock using palm leaves, a small length of rope, and what rudimentary survival skills he had acquired in his years with the Mariana. He sat lightly on the webbed harness, it seemed to hold his weight well enough. He spent a few minutes trying to get into the ideal position for resting. Eventually he settled in, and he looked up at the stars. Fondly he recalled his early days on the ship. Before being promoted, he would scrub the lower decks for a small wage, singing songs with the others, before experience jaded him. Dreaming in his adolescence of the Massive City sprawls out east, the open oceans that engulfed the globes in the schoolhouse, the world was as an open book. Captain Schelling took notice of the young mans enthusiasm early on, and by the time a freak accident involving an anchor sent prior first mate Jacobs to an untimely grave, he had already found a worthy successor.
The Captain let him in on the most intimate details of his operation. He learned to navigate, to maintain his firearm, and also how to tie many varietys of exotic knots. He was taught the art of the trade, how to barter for the best bargains. He also learned of the Captains great hatred for foreigners, he described a growing sickness he felt for those around him. His tirades were always grandiose, The first mate appreciated his verbosity, was intoxicated by it. One day when unloading cargo onto dock, a Russian store owner was gunned down by the captain, he had not explained his actions to anyone, and from that day on the ships mission was changed. No longer would they profit off of fair trade, they became the scourge of the sea. Finally adventure had come to sweep the first mate up and take him where he had never been. To lands unimagined during his humble upbringing in the english countryside. And all he could ever want for would be there for the taking.
A piece of him hoped it would not.
Carefully he fashioned a hammock using palm leaves, a small length of rope, and what rudimentary survival skills he had acquired in his years with the Mariana. He sat lightly on the webbed harness, it seemed to hold his weight well enough. He spent a few minutes trying to get into the ideal position for resting. Eventually he settled in, and he looked up at the stars. Fondly he recalled his early days on the ship. Before being promoted, he would scrub the lower decks for a small wage, singing songs with the others, before experience jaded him. Dreaming in his adolescence of the Massive City sprawls out east, the open oceans that engulfed the globes in the schoolhouse, the world was as an open book. Captain Schelling took notice of the young mans enthusiasm early on, and by the time a freak accident involving an anchor sent prior first mate Jacobs to an untimely grave, he had already found a worthy successor.
The Captain let him in on the most intimate details of his operation. He learned to navigate, to maintain his firearm, and also how to tie many varietys of exotic knots. He was taught the art of the trade, how to barter for the best bargains. He also learned of the Captains great hatred for foreigners, he described a growing sickness he felt for those around him. His tirades were always grandiose, The first mate appreciated his verbosity, was intoxicated by it. One day when unloading cargo onto dock, a Russian store owner was gunned down by the captain, he had not explained his actions to anyone, and from that day on the ships mission was changed. No longer would they profit off of fair trade, they became the scourge of the sea. Finally adventure had come to sweep the first mate up and take him where he had never been. To lands unimagined during his humble upbringing in the english countryside. And all he could ever want for would be there for the taking.
