Lifeboat

Chapter Two - Limp Sails

It was still dark in the cabin when Alexander stirred again. He felt well rested and for a moment wondered at the darkness before his eyes fell upon the towel across the port hole and he remembered the events of the night before. It might still smell of vinegar but he'd long gotten used to it.  The darkness wasn't all that felt disconcerting though and it took him a moment longer to realise the ship was not only stationary, but also on a substantial lean.

"Gwen," he climbed out of his hammock, able to step from it onto the top of the nearest pile of crates, which were not usually so close. He realised quickly that this was not so much because they had moved, but because his hammock was hanging at enough of an angle as to position him toward the centre of the cabin.

He shook his sister gently, but her silent grip on his wrist was response enough that she was alert. He helped her carefully from her hammock and the two supported one another as they made their way across the slanted cabin to unlatch the cabin door. It jammed just long enough for him to realise the mistake and as the door swung down upon them, Alexander had barely enough warning to pull Gwen out of the way before several barrels rolled in through the open door crashing upon the piled up crates which didn't budge; leaning upon themselves as much as the hull.

"We must have run aground," he thought out loud and received no input from his sister. She had moved around him touching the barrels as she did so. They had been breached and were empty save for a sour odour of the same tangy substance that already permeated the air. "I don't understand, were we hauling this much vinegar? And why?"

"Who knows, help me up," Gwen positioned her foot against the fallen barrels and lurched forward into the gangway beyond.

Alexander followed closely behind her, thinking at the last moment to check his belt for the pocket knife which was one of his few possessions. The hallway beyond was empty, the empty barrels now filling their own cabin and the light coming through the open hatch at the end of the corridor allowed light to stream towards them, "I didn't hear any collision last night." Gwen mirrored his thoughts.

"Tide maybe. We must have beached" he added thoughtfully, "not a big problem, I heard Bernard say this river bed is mud rather than stone. It won't have damaged the hull. When the tide comes back in we'll loose away easily enough,"

"I'm not sure 'loose away' is the correct nautical term," she responded automatically.

There came a loud clang from the galley, and holding onto a rope that ran the length of the gangway as a sea worthy rail, Alexander climbed past his sister and with bent knees he pulled his way up the slanted ship grabbing onto the open doorway. The galley was in shambles, the long bench they all ate at had slid towards the back of the galley where it was pressed up against the cooks food bench which was, by the looks of it, bolted to the floor. The assorted chairs all different in age and origin having been picked out by each member of the crew over years of service and many different ports, were all upturned and scattered throughout.

A groan drew his attention and what appeared before to be a suspended sack of something he'd mistaken for food turned slowly and two eyes in the middle of a purplish face bulged at him with urgent murmurs.

"Charlie?" He uttered and made his way across the shambles towards the twisted hammock within which the scullery boy was tangled.

"Finally!" The purple and pudgy face gasped for a breath, "You took your sweet time?" his voice slightly more high-pitched than usual. Realising he was strangling Alexander produces the dagger from he always kept in his pocket and started hacking and cutting vigorously at the twisted hammock ropes which gave way almost at once and Charlie fell like a butchered swine carcass hitting the floor with an audible thud.