Noble Intentions

34. Current Matters

Thursday, 9th June, 1718

I awoke to an unusual silence, punctuated only by Gillian's peaceful purring. Light from the large waxing moon fell on my face and enhanced the graceful curves of her posterior as she lay sprawled atop me. Out through the stern windows, it lit the mangroves, showing their tops unbent. No movement in the leaves. Dead calm.

Dead arm, or nearly so. I adjusted her head on my shoulder in an attempt to relieve the tingle. While I kneaded, I reviewed our dinner discussions and those which followed – increasingly loud voices as the storm's cacophony grew. Shouting at each other in friendly intercourse. I chuckled.

"Why the chuckle, Jarvis?"

"Oh! Sorry, I did not intend it to wake you."

"No, not the chuckle. I awoke from your moving about beneath me."

"My arm was near numb and tingling."

She giggled. "And you find that funny?"

I shook my head, smiling. "No, the humour was thinking about our friendly shouting at the table."

"My throat is still a bit sore from ... Ummm! Oh, my!" She wiggled her belly and shifted a leg off mine as she reached down. "And you were also thinking about me."

"No, I was reviewing the decisions from our discussions."

"Hunh? Then, why is this so stiff?"

"That is its usual morning greeting. Most times, I awake with it up like this."

"As does my nub greet me." She moved a hand between her legs. "Hmmm. I always thought this was from playing with it while asleep."

I rolled her further atop me. "Shall we put them to use?"

She giggled. "I must first make water, remove the mouse and clean."

"And take some willow bark and brandy."

She shuffled off me, shaking her head as she rose. "No need, now. The orgasms are better than ... Oh! The wind has died."

"Indeed. This storm followed well the reported pattern. The day should dawn bright and still."

Then, partway to the privy, she asked, "How long before we have sufficient wind?"

"With it falling calm this early, well before sunset. Likely by mid-afternoon."

"Wonderful. Allowing us to sail homeward today."

I nodded. "Aye, unless we have too much damage to repair."

Much later, relieved of our carnal tensions, washed and dressed, we sat breakfasting when a knock came on our door, followed by Jenson's voice, "Captain, sir."

"Good morrow, Master. Please, enter."

He opened the door and stepped in. "We have adjusted the moorings to counter the recession of the surge, sir. The lines from the quarters now hold us stable against its current."

"Oh! We had not seen this two years ago."

"As some of the hands said, sir. One told me the storm came from over the land, not the sea."

"True. From the southwest." I nodded. "Its surge would have dissipated to seaward, but here, we have it returning from having flooded the land alee."

"Aye, and thus, my concern, sir. The current will make it dangerous to leave the mooring – a factor we had not considered last evening."

"Hmmm! A complication. How fast is its flow?"

"Somewhat less than when we set the hawsers, sir. The land is still submerged, and the water rushes over it between the mangroves."