HMS Resolute Victory

1.10

“I’m kidding of course. We do it here on the deck, in the dry!” Said Symon.

Sarah was visibly relieved.

“Oh thank god, I thought you were serious for a second there.”

“Haha, maybe you can try a dive tomorrow, yes? Haha.”

Ok this guy is a bit too weird.

Sarah practiced breathing through the vintage apparatus and found that the oxygen did not taste musty or old as she’d worried it might.

“First aid. Oxygen tank. Rope and float. Flare gun. They are all kept on either side of the deck and in each row boat. There is also harpoon and fishing rod, but I cannot teach you how to use these so quickly. Flashlight. Snacks. Water. You must find yourself, No? Keep these things close to you.” Symon explained and passed a small Maglite torch which had it’s fair share of scratches and scuffs on it, along with some dried fruit and a bottle of Evian.

“Thank you Symon.” Sarah accepted the items and slipped the torch into her skirt pocket, the fruit and water she propped against the metal wall of largest structure on the deck which they were standing close to.

“Have you fired a flare?”

“No, I haven’t.” Sarah replied.

“Pray that you don’t have to.” Symon said gravely, the look on his face could have been from a painful memory, he quickly shifted back to his usual cheeriness.

“But if you do it is quite simple.”

Symon showed Sarah how to use the flare gun and how to tie a good knot for use with a flotation device. Sarah already knew how the contents of the first aid kit should be used from school and girl guides, but she watched and listened intently out of respect for Symon. He was, although eccentric, a very nice and caring person and Sarah couldn’t help feeling sympathy for him, but she struggled to know why.

“And if there is an emergency find the captain as he has the satellite phone, yes? And has the keys to the safe where the back-up phone is kept. You could say we are all hostages to his whim. Hahah.”

I’m not sure if that’s funny. All this talk of survival has put me in a tense mood, it’s like when you get on an aeroplane and you have to sit through the cabin crew showing you the emergency exits. It’s all too foreboding. Ah well, it’ll soon shake off. Anyway if we get shipwrecked I’ll enjoy showing Symon that I don’t need a lesson in fishing, I’ll out-catch him and make sure nobody goes hungry. Oh that’s right I was going to ask him something.

“Symon, what role will you have in the exhibition?” Sarah inquired.

“I will have no part in that.” Symon said matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say to that.

“I’m kidding! I will be meeting and greeting the guests. Haha.”

This guy laughs too much and he’s really not funny.

“Oh. OK. Will there be a lot of guests?”

“Oh yes. There always is.”

“What is the exhibition about?” Sarah finally asked.

“Hmm.. When you put it like that. I don’t suppose it is an exhibition at all.” Symon didn’t really answer the question. Sarah felt unnerved and probed further.

“Then what is it?”

“Well. It’s a party. Anyway you’ll see soon enough, you’ll be making preparations tomorrow, no?” With that Symon collected and re-stowed the rope and float he’d been showing to Sarah and started to walk back to towards the stairs.

“We are done. And in time for lunch. Let us go to the mess.” Symon looked to the sky and said to himself slightly under his breath, “The storm will be a bad one. Why does Archie insist on having this stupid mast, it’s a fucking death trap.”