#DISTANCE 3 NAUTICAL MILES...

[swingsct]

Embracing my radical optimism, I fulfilled this prompt my friend gave me with a Wikipedia poem. On sea, on space, on finding our way. Of will, love, and unyielding determination to persist. People so tender and so whole, still. Who couldn't love you? Who couldn't want you like the sea yearns to love her stars? We are afloat and I love you.

[full Image Description beneath the fold]

[Image Description: it is a collection of snippets from Wikipedia placed in a collage. This description describes a nonlinear form, left-to-right and top-to-bottom, unless otherwise stated. Links in brackets.

IMAGE 1

Prompt: the sea's yearning for the stars

Arc length is the distance between two points along a section of a [curve].

Calculating the distance between geographical coordinates is based on some level of abstraction; it does not provide an exact distance, which is unattainable if one attempted to account for every irregularity in the surface of the earth. [citation 1]

Image of a bar graph comparing the distance of the kilometre, statute mile, and nautical mile. The kilometre is 54%, the statute mile is 86.9%, and the nautical mile is 100%. The caption states, "Visual comparison of a kilometre, statute mile, and nautical mile."

An expanded navigation block titled, "[Exploration] and [explorers] by nation or region". Each item after headings are links. Header "Explorers by country": Chinese, French, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, Romanian, Russian; Header "Explorers by type": Canopy, Cove, Circumnavigators (emphasized and unlinked), Climbers, Desert, Polar explorers, Ocean (Deep-sea, Undersea explorers, Seafarers), Space travelers; Header "Exploration by region": Asia (Central Asia, Europeans in Tibet), Africa, Australia (interior), Americas (Prehistoric, North America, Europeans in the Americas), Pacific (Polynesians), Polar (Arctic, Antarctica); Header "Exploration timelines": Chinese exploration, European exploration (Age of Discovery), Europeans in Asia, Maritime exploration, Space exploration

On right: A lighthouse is a tower, building, or other type of structure designed to emit light from a system of lamps and [lenses] and to serve as a [beacon] for [navigational aid], for [maritime pilots] at sea or on inland waterways.

On left: The gravitation attraction that masses have for one another decreases inversely with the square of distance of those masses from each other.

Thus the distance between Earth and Moon is [increasing],

On left, continuing the above: "indispensable... to the lover is his unrequited love, which he would at no price relinquish for a state of indifference." [citation 3]

On right: An image of two sets of bones stuck in dirt and rock. They have small labels too small to read. The caption of the image says, "The [Lovers of Cluj-Napoca], a couple buried together between 1450 and 1550. Archaeologists believe that the man (right) died due to a broken [sternum] and that the woman (left) died of a broken heart brought on by the death of her partner. THey were buried with their hands interlocked. [citation needed tag]

Subheading: "Uncomplicated grief" [edit link]

For most bereaved individuals, the journey through grief will ultimately culminate in an acceptable level of adjustment to a life without their loved one. [citation 9]

Indented underneath: Once widely use, the number of operational lighthouses has declined due to the expense of maintenance and has become uneconomical since the advent of much cheaper, more sophisticated and effective electronic navigational systems.

IMAGE 2

Indented: "A moving object is judged to be more rapid than another when at a given moment the first object is behind and a moment or so later ahead of another object." [citation 13]

Subheading: "Planetary romances" [edit link]

On right: image of a triangle ABC, flat side down and pointed upwards at a crude boat drawing with a bright cyan sail and a red-brown body. Bottom side is labelled "b" and connected by points AC. The caption reads, "Finding the position of a distant object B with the angles observed from points A and C and the baseline b between them

On left, below subheading: [abandonment], [coming-of-age problems], [denialism], [distorted sequences], [dysfunctional relationships], [human sexuality], [mental disorders], [mood swings], [odd behaviors], [psychological abuse], [psychedelic art], [social issues]

appear near each other in the sky, but they usually lie at a variety of distances away from Earth.

on right, much smaller: subheading "Pioneer 9" [edit link]. November 8, 1968 Launched at 09:46:00 UTC from Cape Canavarel into solar orbit with a mean distance of 0.8 AU. 1983 Final contact. 1987 Contact was attempted but failed. [citation 8]

on left: astrolabe ([Ancient Greek]: ἀστρολάβος astrolabos; [Arabic]: ٱلأَسْطُرلاب al-Asturlāb; [Persian]: ستاره‌یاب Setāreyāb) is an ancient astronomical instrument that was a handheld model of the universe.

continuing above, aligned left: Sometimes it is there just as a gentle background but it often introduces such themes as storm, shipwreck, battle, hardship, disaster, the dashing of hopes and death. [citation 206:45]

a reaction to decades of dystopian, nihilistic fiction, explores how goodness and optimism can be acts of rebellion. [citation 14]

for positive change, radical kindness, and

that type of love which has no bounds and is unchanging.

Article title, right aligned: Hope

On right: The Pale Blue Dot image. It consists of mostly dark gray static, interrupted by blurry lines of color diagonally downwards-left from top to bottom. From left to right, the streaks are red, very faint green, very faint red, clear green, extremely faint white, and bright yellow. In the bright yellow band's middle is a very very small whitish speck. The caption reads, "Seen from about 6 billion kilometers (3.7 billion miles), [Earth] appears as a tiny dot within deep space: the bluish-white speck almost halfway up the rightmost band of light."

/End ID]

[lonestarbattleship]

"Massachusetts-built battleship USS NEW JERSEY (Battleship No. 16) seemingly in Boston at the end of fitting out, 22 June 1906. She had commissioned on 12 May, only six weeks before this photo was taken. Note the sighting hoods on her super-imposed turrets, with the big 12"/40 of the lower compartment equipped with a hood on either side, presumably for pointing (elevating) and training (rotating), while the upper 8"/45 gun house contains the standard three sighting hoods - one for pointing, one for training, and one for a turret captain. These super-imposed turrets are always a point of discussion, as the 8" could not rotate independently, instead being designed to capitalize on a greater rate of fire to pepper a target between 12" shots. Estimated battle ranges when these ships were designed were only several thousand yards, with optimal range being around 1,000 - or half a nautical mile.

Note the total lack of rangefinders, with the only the sighting hoods and a crow's nest well aloft visible for spotting. Gunnery was still heavily localized in this design, each turret having a commander in charge of ensuring aim was proper and firing time was opportune. Consider the effect this would have on firepower. With a broadside of 4 x 12", 6 x 8", 6 x 6", and even 6 x 3", all calibers could be individually damaging at ranges as close as 1,000 yards. However, coordination was rudimentary - voice pipes transmitted the command to fire, and seconds of delay could mean large differences in shell trajectory, plus each gun used an independent fire control calculation. If the guns could be centrally controlled and fired as a unit, the ship itself became a unified battery instead of a disparate set of turret commanders operating their guns semi-independently based on judgement. Though firing rate might decrease, hit rate would increase and greater ranges could be used, thus keeping the enemy at a distance (and out of torpedo range. Almost all battleships carried torpedo tubes until the 1920s).

This was the essence of fire control: turning the ship's independent guns into a battery to deal greater damage."

Caption is exclusive to Haze Grey History Facebook page (link) and was shared with the permission of Evan Dwyer. Click this link to read more of his works.

[nasa]

Top 10 Things to Know for the Return of our Launch America Mission With SpaceX

History was made May 30 when NASA astronauts Robert Behnken and Douglas Hurley launched from American soil in a commercially built and operated American crew spacecraft on its way to the International Space Station. 

Pictured above is the SpaceX Dragon Endeavour spacecraft that lifted off on the company’s Falcon 9 rocket from Launch Complex 39A at Kennedy Space Center in Florida and docked with the space station on May 31. Now, Behnken and Hurley are ready to return home in Endeavour for a splashdown off the coast of Florida, closing out a mission designed to test SpaceX’s human spaceflight system, including launch, docking, splashdown, and recovery operations. Undocking is targeted for 7:34 p.m. ET on August 1, with splashdown back to Earth slated for 2:42 p.m. on August 2. Watch our continuous live coverage HERE. 

1. Where will Behnken and Hurley splash down?

Image: SpaceX’s Crew Dragon is guided by four parachutes as it splashes down in the Atlantic on March 8, 2019, after the uncrewed spacecraft's return from the International Space Station on the Demo-1 mission.

Together with SpaceX, we are capable of supporting seven splashdown sites off the coast of Florida. The seven potential splashdown sites for the Dragon Endeavor are off the coasts of Pensacola, Tampa, Tallahassee, Panama City, Cape Canaveral, Daytona, and Jacksonville.

2. How will a splashdown location be chosen?

Splashdown locations are selected using defined priorities, starting with selecting a station departure date and time with the maximum number of return opportunities in geographically diverse locations to protect for weather changes. Teams also prioritize locations which require the shortest amount of time between undocking and splashdown based on orbital mechanics, and splashdown opportunities that occur in daylight hours.

Check out the Departure and Splashdown Criteria Fact Sheet for an in-depth look at selecting return locations, decision points during return, and detailed weather criteria.

3. How long will it take for Behnken and Hurley to return to Earth?

Return time for Behnken and Hurley will vary depending on the undock and splashdown opportunities chosen, with the primary opportunity taking between six and 30 hours.

4. What does the return look like? What are the major milestones?

Crew Dragon’s return home will start with undocking from the International Space Station. At the time of undock, Dragon Endeavour and its trunk weigh approximately 27,600 pounds. We will provide live coverage of the return from undocking all the way through splashdown.

There will be two very small engine burns immediately after hooks holding Crew Dragon in place retract to actually separate the spacecraft from the station. Once flying free, Dragon Endeavour will autonomously execute four departure burns to move the spaceship away from the space station and begin the flight home. Several hours later, one departure phasing burn, lasting about six minutes, puts Crew Dragon on the proper orbital path to line it up with the splashdown zone.

Shortly before the final deorbit burn, Crew Dragon will separate from its trunk, which will burn up in Earth’s atmosphere. The spacecraft then executes the deorbit burn, which commits Crew Dragon to return and places it on an orbit with the proper trajectory for splashdown. After trunk separation and the deorbit burn are complete, the Crew Dragon capsule weighs approximately 21,200 pounds.  

5. How fast will Dragon Endeavour be going when it re-enters the Earth’s atmosphere? How hot will it get?

Crew Dragon will be traveling at orbital velocity prior to re-entry, moving at approximately 17,500 miles per hour. The maximum temperature it will experience on re-entry is approximately 3,500 degrees Fahrenheit. The re-entry creates a communications blackout between the spacecraft and Earth that is expected to last approximately six minutes.

6. When do the parachutes deploy?

Image: SpaceX’s final test of Crew Dragon’s Mark 3 parachute system on Friday, May 1, 2020, that will be used during the Demo-2 splashdwon mission. 

Dragon Endeavour has two sets of parachutes will that deploy once back inside Earth’s atmosphere to slow down prior to splashdown. Two drogue parachutes will deploy at about 18,000 feet in altitude while Crew Dragon is moving approximately 350 miles per hour. Four main parachutes will deploy at about 6,000 feet in altitude while Crew Dragon is moving approximately 119 miles per hour.

7. Who recovers the crew and the Dragon Endeavour capsule from the water? What vehicles and personnel are involved?

Image: SpaceX’s Crew Dragon is loaded onto the company’s recovery ship, Go Searcher, in the Atlantic Ocean, about 200 miles off Florida’s east coast, on March 8, after returning from the International Space Station on the Demo-1 mission.Credits: SpaceX

For splashdown at any of the seven potential sites, SpaceX personnel will be on location to recover the capsule from the water. Two recovery ships, the Go Searcher and the Go Navigator, split locations between the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Florida. On either ship will be more than 40 personnel from SpaceX and NASA, made up of spacecraft engineers, trained water recovery experts, medical professionals, the ship’s crew, NASA cargo experts, and others to assist in the recovery.

8. How long after splashdown until Behnken and Hurley are out of the capsule?

Image: NASA astronaut Doug Hurley, along with teams from NASA and SpaceX, rehearse crew extraction from SpaceX’s Crew Dragon, on August 13, 2019. Credits: NASA/Bill Ingalls

Immediately after splashdown has occurred, two fast boats with SpaceX personnel deploy from the main recovery ship. The first boat checks capsule integrity and tests the area around the Crew Dragon for the presence of any hypergolic propellant vapors. Once cleared, the personnel on the boats begin preparing the spaceship for recovery by the ship. The second fast boat is responsible for safing and recovering Crew Dragon’s parachutes, which have at this point detached from the capsule and are in the water.

At this point the main recovery vessel can move in and begin to hoist the Crew Dragon capsule onto the main deck. Once the capsule is on the recovery vessel, it is moved to a stable location for the hatch to be opened for waiting medical professionals to conduct initial checks and assist Behnken and Hurley out of Dragon Endeavour.

This entire process is expected to take approximately 45 to 60 minutes, depending on spacecraft and sea state conditions.

9. Where do Behnken and Hurley go after they are out of the capsule?

Immediately after exiting the Crew Dragon capsule, Behnken and Hurley will be assisted into a medical area on the recovery ship for initial assessment. This is similar to procedures when welcoming long-duration crew members returning home on Soyuz in Kazakhstan.

After initial medical checks, Behnken and Hurley will be returned to shore either by traveling on the primary recovery ship or by helicopter. Helicopter returns from the recovery ship are the baseline for all splashdown zones except for the Cape Canaveral splashdown site, with travel times ranging from approximately 10 minutes to 80 minutes. The distance from shore will be variable depending on the splashdown location, ranging from approximately 22 nautical miles to 175 nautical miles.

Once returned to shore, both crew members will immediately board a waiting NASA plane to fly back to Ellington field in Houston.

10. What happens next?

Image: NASA astronauts Shannon Walker, Victor Glover Jr. and Mike Hopkins and Japan’s Soichi Noguchi train in a SpaceX Crew Dragon capsule. Credit: SpaceX

Meanwhile, Dragon Endeavour will be returned back to the SpaceX Dragon Lair in Florida for inspection and processing. Teams will examine the data and performance of the spacecraft throughout the test flight to complete the certification of the system to fly operational missions for our Commercial Crew and International Space Station Programs. The certification process is expected to take about six weeks. Following successful certification, the first operational mission will launch with Crew Dragon commander Michael Hopkins, pilot Victor Glover, and mission specialist Shannon Walker – all of NASA – along with Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA) mission specialist Soichi Noguchi will launch on the Crew-1 mission from Launch Complex 39A at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The four crew members will spend six months on the space station.

The launch is targeted for no earlier than late-September.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com

[bernardhiking]

East Ridge Summit (via Edith Cavell Meadows Trail)

Date: 07/30/2022 Country: Canada Region: Jasper National Park, Alberta Endpoint: East Ridge Summit: 2571 m. Trail type: In-and-out, with loop portion in the middle Length: 8.5 miles Elevation gain: 2,800 ft Trailhead: Edith Cavell Meadows Parking Lot

We started the hike early, as we knew it is a very popular destination. The two oversize parking lots at the trailhead, though almost empty when we arrived there at 8:30 am, gave a good indication of what was to come. We started vigorously, dashing up the paved sightseeing trail called “Glacier Walk” to a nice viewpoint, overlooking Mount Cavell and Cavell Pond—a jade colored glacier lake with melting chunks of glacier debris dotting its surface like vanilla ice cream in a float. 

Before us rose the daunting north face of Mount Edith Cavell (named after a WWI nurse who was executed by the Germans for aiding Allied soldiers escape from German occupied Belgium—a strange choice of naming for a beautiful mountain, notwithstanding the gallant lady’s obvious merits). Seen from a distance, the mountain leans at a nautical tilt, with parallel bands of rock and snow giving the impression of a sinking ship; but up close, the view is of an imposing and doubtlessly hard-to-climb peak.

 We were practically alone when we arrived at the shores of the glacier lake (incongruously called Cavell “Pond”), and we snapped a good number of pictures there, for the sight was lovely. 

Then, just ahead of the first wave of sightseers, we headed up the hiking trail toward Edith Cavell Meadows. 

Spring had arrived late in the Canadian Rockies this year, and only 2-3 weeks earlier, snow fields were still impeding hiking progress here. But now, a heatwave was in full swing, with temperatures soaring above 90 even in the mountains (part of a continental—or even north-hemispheric—drought phase), and this dispatched of the snow cover in a short time, allowing for the explosive growth of the flora waiting underneath. Now, the lower-lying meadows were in full bloom with Indian Paintbrush, Heather, Daisies and plenty of other pretty flowers vying for prominence. 

But only a narrow band of altitude displayed this floral abundance, and once we gained more altitude, the flowers were still in wait. What was definitely out in full force were the bugs! Although we had slathered on a generous amount of repellent at the outset of our hike, we were soon attacked relentlessly, forcing us to double down on the repellent stuff, putting on a second layer of an even stronger product to keep the pest at bay. It got slightly better after we entered the area above the tree-line, although even here the flies and mosquitoes were still active. But just turning around to behold the glorious sight of Edith Cavell North Face, Angel Glacier sticking its tongue out at us, and the ice-dotted jade pond receding further and further below us--all this made the insectile inconvenience pale by comparison.  

At a fork where the trail divides to form a loop, we chose the steeper (left) branch, reserving the longer, more gradual portion for our descent. About an hour and a half into the hike, we left the meadows behind and entered upon a stony ridge that led up to the end of the official trail. Along this stretch, we had good, muscle-straining fun, as we balanced on the edge of the comb, enjoying ever more spectacular views. We reached the “official” end of the trail at 11 am, and now we had the option of pushing on to reach East Ridge Summit, following a clearly visible, though less frequented trail made by people who simply were not satisfied to turn around before the highest point on the ridge was reached. It looked steep but doable, so we decided to make a go for it.

The extension was really worth it. A half hour later, just before entering the last stretch of loose scree, rocks, and an occasional snow patch, a large, flat stone to the side invited us to settle down for a picnic. Here, we ate our lunch sandwiches and replenished our fluid levels while taking in the sweeping vista.

Thus refreshed, we tackled the steepest portion of the ascent, making frequent zig-zag turns and holding each other’s hands for support. It is my favorite kind of territory—challenging to the point of making the heart race, yet without being outright dangerous. At noon sharp we arrived on the top, three hours after starting out. The scenery was wonderful in every direction, and we took a good number of pictures here. 

But we didn’t spend much time on the summit, as it started to look like the weather was about to turn. A few pretty impressive thunderheads were developing, and we wanted to stay ahead of the development. Rain did eventually come down, but by then we were already on the lower section of the return trail, approaching the valley bottom. We had taken the more gradual segment of the loop going down, and we enjoyed another burst of flower power along the meadows there. A Ptarmigan by the side of the trail was picking at the floral buds without paying us any mind.

At 2:30 pm, we were back at the parking lot, now bustling with hundreds of visitors. The early bird gets the quiet moments.

[aprildiamond9]

on my rewatch i decided to compile the audio snippets that play during the credits. i'm not sure if all of them are supposed to connect, but there's definitely something interesting happening in the last few.

Episode 1:

• (Man) We are traveling 27,300 feet per second.

• Distance from earth: 9,078 nautical miles.

• Object descending rapidly. Estimates show 29 minutes away from touchdown in the Northwestern hemisphere.

Episode 2:

• Possible secondary anomaly detected approaching exosphere.

• Entering the thermosphere over the North Atlantic.

• Unable to confirm with visual observation. Extrapolating trajectory to determine approximate debris field.

Episode 3:

• Breakage initially sighted 46 months ago.

• First atmospheric collision 18:06 over Iceland.

• Traveling in excess of 150,000 kilometers per hour. Earth-intersecting trajectory.

Episode 4:

• Roger. We're about to do the handover. Can you repeat the last value you had?

• Unable to confirm with visual observation.

• This is Orbital-6370 moving now for extraction.

• Delta plus zero zero niner three.

Episode 5:

• (Woman) Debris is not burning up on entry. Repeat. Debris is not burning up on entry.

• Multiple impacts in North America, Atlantic Ocean continental shelf.

• (Man) Orbital responding.

Episode 6:

• Orbital investigating.

• Debris field 16, 17.

• 21.

• 56.

• 170.

Episode 7:

• Roger that. Approaching debris field 56 now. Over.

• I see it. It appears to have a strange, shimmering wall near it. It's undulating, and it- *static*

Episode 8:

• No sign of Garcia- the debris again. Over.

• Approaching the debris.

• (Woman) You broke up. Can you repeat?

• (Man) Garcia, I cannot read you. I cannot see you.

• *static* Oh my god. Oh my god!

Episode 9:

• This is Orbital situation team 62. We just arrived at debris field 56. We are tending to Agent Garcia.

• There is no trace of Agent (unclear)

• (Woman) I was just speaking to him.

• (Man) He's gone. He's... he's gone.

[ltwilliammowett]

The Uluburun Shipwreck

In 1982, a Turkish sponge diver stumbled upon metal pieces off the Turkish Mediterranean coast near Kaş, which he described as "metal biscuits with ears". The find turned out to be an elite shipment from the late Bronze Age and provided valuable archaeological evidence of the exotic and valuable gifts exchanged by kings, heads of state or wealthy merchants.

The Uluburun II, replica of the Uluburun. She was knowingly sunk in 2006 to serve as a site and to document and understand her decay 

The shipwreck was excavated by the INA in 11 seasons between 1984 and 1994, recording more than 22,000 dives at depths of over 150 feet. And is considered to be one of the oldest shipwrecks in the world due to the date, late 14th century B.C., based on Mycenaean ceramics.

Siteplan with a reconstruction of the Ship over it - green are the copper ingots, orange the ceramics, grey the anchors, pink the tin ingots

She carried a bulk cargo of copper and tin ingots in the usual 10:1 ratio to produce bronze. Other cargo included pottery (used, unused and also food-containing ceramics) and luxury goods intended for a very specific and wealthy public, such as carved ivory containers, jewellery made of gold and semi-precious stones such as carnelian and agate.

Beads and two glass ingots

Among the raw materials from distant countries such as Cyprus, Egypt but also Syria and Mycenae were glass ingots, unworked elephant tusks, ostrich egg shells and faience beads, gold for death masks.

Gold funeral mask

Personal items such as weapons and galley goods, counterweights and musical instruments including lutes with tortoiseshell sounding bodies suggest that the ship was operated by a Syrocanite crew and carried several passengers from mainland Greece.

In addition to the precious cargo, many stone anchors and a tiny part of the hull were preserved, both of which are equally important for the study of ancient shipbuilding and its development.

A Diptych (writing tablet)  and hippopotamus theet

The ship was built from cedar wood using the so-called "spigot technique", in which first the outer hull was built and later the "skeleton" (the frames and bars) below was added. One thousand years after the sinking of Uluburun, this technique was still used in the construction of Roman and Greek ships. Archaeological findings in Egypt suggest that the archetype for this ship probably originated in ancient Egypt. At that time, the Pharaoh Akhenaton in particular pushed the development of more resistant deep-sea ships to promote trade and transport.

The reconsturcted wreck site in the Museum in Bodrum ,Turkey

A subtle structural difference to the Uluburun, however, is that its pegs were not secured by wooden pegs. This technique was later referred to by the Romans as "Fenike pegging". The Uluburun was certainly built for use at sea, which refutes the thesis that sailing in the Bronze Age was done exclusively in sight of the coast.Since only about 3 % of the original hull of the ship had been recovered, drawings from ancient Egypt, in particular the pictorial representation of the "Fleet of Queen Hatshepsut in the Land of Punt" (1500 B.C.) or a painting with Syrian ships from the Tomb of Kenamun, offered an important visual reference for the reconstruction of the ship.

Drawing of wall painting with Syrian ships. Thebes, Tomb of Kenamun (TT 162). Dynasty 18 , reign of Amenhotep III

Fleet of Queen Hatshepsut in the Land of Punt, from her funeray temple at Deir el-Bahri, Dynasty 18 

After extensive research we know today that the Uluburun was 15 meters long and five meters wide and had a draught of 1.4 meters. Her cargo is estimated to be 20 tons. The width of the hull was six centimetres and the pegs were at a distance of 20 centimetres. The ship used a triangular sail, which allowed a maximum speed of two nautical miles per hour, and two oars for manoeuvring.

Possible route of the Uluburun ship

This was the probable route of Uluburun: From her home port on the Levantine coast she sailed fully loaded to her (unknown) Mycenaean port of destination. At night she anchored in ports along the Turkish coast. The planned way back might have led her to Marsa Matruh in northwest Egypt. The currents and winds in this area suggest such a route, as the Uluburun was unable to cross the wind because of its simple sail. Why she sank can no longer be comprehended. Possibly she got caught in a storm and sank.

[deeisace]

:(

I know that the modern ferry between Martinique and St Lucia takes an hour and a half, and that modern fast ferries go at something like 30 knots an hour, so the distance between M and SL is around 45 nautical miles, and the distance between Martinique and Barbados is 3 or 4 times that, making it 135-180 nmi

But! I do not know! how fast ye olde ships went! a six hour ferry ride now is what in the 1720s, please?

unless I have got maths very wrong, which I might’ve

Oh, muppet rules! none of this matters, really, I forgot

I’m gonna say like, leave on the morning tide, and get there like the next day’s evening tide. Or smth.

[fatehbaz]

Micronesian astronomy, ecological knowledge, ocean navigation:

From the people of Kiribati, this is a Micronesian “sky dome", featuring the paths of 3 important stellar entities: Pleiades, Antares, and Rigel. [Source: David Lewis. “Voyaging Stars: Aspects of Polynesian and Micronesian Astronomy.” 1974.]

All of this environmental knowledge was historically transmitted from generation to generation exclusively through oral tradition, storytelling, navigator apprenticeships, etc.

-- “The star compass of the Caroline Islands has 32 named points on most islands, marked by the rising and setting position of stars,” meaning that the differing and reciprocal stellar bearings on separate islands must be individually memorized through personal practice.

-- Historically and into at least the late 20th century, “laypeople” and teenagers in Kiribati could identify and name, from memory alone, over 770 stars; this is recounted in Maud Makemson’s firsthand accounts from Kiribati communities in “The Morning Star Rises: An Account of Polynesian Astronomy.”

-- The navigator Hipair, in 1969, twice made accurate landfall after traveling alone and unaided across 720 km of open ocean between his home island and Saipan; Hipair’s nautical and astronomical knowledge had been the product solely of oral tradition, and his voyages were successful despite how traditional navigation had not been practiced by his community in over 3 generations. [Source: Lewis. “Voyaging Stars.”]

--  Some Micronesian navigators can/could accurately direct voyages of 800 kilometers, or 3200 kilometers if aiming for an archipelago, as recounted in Lewis’ “Voyaging Stars” and Ben Finney’s “Myth, Experiment, and the Reinvention of Polynesian Voyaging.”

-- People of Kiribati maintained some of the most sophisticated star maps, utilizing a so-called “sky dome” map scheme which functioned as a “nautical almanac” according to Lewis. Apparently, the mythology of Kiribati was especially intertwined with wayfinding and voyaging; the concept of the sky, referred to in many other Polynesian societies as some kind of analogue of “heaven,” was known in Kiribati instead as um ni borau, “roof of voyaging.”

-- Some prominent temple sites include the Maori observatories Koro-riwha-te-ao and Koro-riwha-te-po, oriented to view solar halos at sunrise. The royal temple of Fa’anui on Bora Bora was historically maintained by “chiefs of the yellow girdle” who donned the golden tapa cloth, which took its golden color from Capella, the distinctive golden crown of the Auriga constellation. Similar constructions, also observing the sunrise’s solar halos, also occur in Micronesia.

-- Pleiades is important. In the Ryuku Islands, currently administered by Japan, intact pre-modern hilltop observatories are oriented towards Pleiades. Acronical rising of Pleiades around 16 November in the temperate South Pacific would mark the arrival of tuna season in Tuamotu, Gambier, Society Islands, and Rapa Nui; alternatively, the heliacal rise of Aldebaran in the tropics signified the beginning of the breadfruit growing season.

-- Antonio Cantora, a European traveling through the Caroline Islands, had utilized the star compass technology of the people of Kiribati, and was able to draw a map of Micronesia which “remained the best available of the region” between its transcription in 1722 and well “into the nineteenth century.” [Source: Alastair Couper. “Sailors and Traders ...”]

-- David Lewis interviewed 88-year-old islander Sione Fe’iloakitoo Kaho, who was the oldest living Tuita at the time; Kaho’s great-grandfather was a blind navigator living in the 19th century who had achieved acclaim and was recorded as having reoriented a lost flotilla by simply putting his hand in the water for a few seconds and provided the correct direction and distance to Fiji, saving everyone on the boats. [Source: Lewis, “Voyaging Stars.”]

-- Master navigator Mau Piailug of the Caroline Islands accurately predicted the time and place of his landfall on the penultimate day of the 1976 voyage of the Hokuel’a after traveling across 2000 miles of open sea by using a mental plotting scheme; both Piailug’s feats and the many successful landfalls after thousands of miles made by his student, Hawaiian navigator Nainoa Thompson, were, according to them, performed by an understanding of dead-reckoning, oceanic currents, wind patterns, and deep water phosphorescence (!) that indicated maritime conditions and proximity to land. [Source: Geoffrey Irwin, The Prehistoric Exploration and Colonisation of the Pacific (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 217.]

[sailing-elitsha]

Carrebeean, Here we are!!!

As I said before: 5783 nautical miles we sailed towards this little paradise where we are still on quarantine anchorage. Waiting on the PCR result is always making me a bit nervous, especially this time. If we are tested negative, we have the chance here in Grenada to get the AstraZeneca vaccines and we will travel much freer than we do now.

But no boredom: a little leak in the hand wash basin, try to clean the mud off ELITSHA, friends and family to speak to, small other repairs, taking the lead in UBUNTU again since we have full and unlimited internet on board, planning and booking Zora’s and Su’s tickets towards us, baking bread again and of course swimming and snorkelling.

 But let me talk first a little bit about Suriname and our short sail to Grenada. Suriname was for a long time a Dutch colony. Since 1975, this country is the smallest independent state in South America. The previous president unfortunately abused his power and all the resources the beautiful country has, for example gold, aluminium, oil, bananas got exported unwisely and the profit went into the presidents and his friend’s pockets. That is what Surinamers were telling us. In the meantime, there is a new president, but there is Corona as well. The ECO tourism, Suriname was good and well known for, stands still and the country is in a bad state and shape. At the banks of the Suriname river, entering Suriname, you see big and then I mean really big villas. According to the locals they belong to friends of the former president and to drug lords. A very familiar story to us South Africans. The Netherlands is still involved and helps where they can, but a few days after we left Suriname they closed the country: total lockdown. Just above 500 000 people live in Suriname and most of them in and close to Paramaribo. People are currently getting infected and dying in huge numbers from Corona: not enough hospital beds, not enough vaccinations, not enough oxygen……… not enough doctors and nurses. Their rainy season is terrible this year due to the ELNino effect and its really tuff for the poor population. After a good week in the Marina and a road trip through the rural part of the country to a big dam where people are searching for gold, visiting banana plantations, visiting Paramaribo with a lot of rain we said goodbye to the populated part of Suriname together with Elitsha and we sailed into the Commewijne river. This was so romantic and special. The jaguars, caiman and anacondas were too scared of us, hahahahha. We did not see them, but we heard and enjoyed the voices of the jungle, saw and heard millions of birds, parrots and all kind of other noises. It was magical.  Three days we were totally one with nature, did not see any human being, together with Elitsha.

Coming back from Commewijne river was coming back to happy reggae life. Looking for a spot ashore to get our dingy on board for the trip to Grenada, a fisher of New Amsterdam waved us to come next to his fisher boat. Loud reggae music and a very friendly crew invited us for coffee, tea and biscuits……….and dagga and rum………..Unfortunately, we had to say thank you no (dagga and rum out of question, of course). The threat of getting infected just before we go back to sea again for a couple of days made us kindly refusing the offer. Even though we chatted a while with them and they helped us to get the dingy motor on board. And that’s how Surinamers are, chatty, always happy to assist and help, curious and interested about who you are. As I mentioned before people told us in advanced, that coming to South or Central America or the Caribbean with a South African flag would ask for problems. That was one of the reasons why we registered Elitsha in Germany. But we always say that we are from Cape Town, we don’t hide that and up to now we had no bad experiences. People are impressed that we come from that far to visit their small country and want to know if we like it. They loved the fact that we speak Dutch, because Dutch is still the first language in Suriname. Anyway, after chatting to the fishermen, we tied everything nicely, slept a short night and left New Amsterdam and Suriname at 6 am on the 25th of May.

Aware of the thread of Venezuelan pirates (Surinamers and NOON site (cruiser website) informed us about it), we sailed at a safe distance from the coast. Even though we choose to pass trough the Galleon’s passage between Trinidad and Tobago, but we choose to pass it close to the Tobago side,  away of the Venezuelan coast. On our way we saw a fair number of oil platforms, huge ones, with huge flames, we could see from far. This was also a bit spooky. We had 35 to 40 knots of wind and a good speed to leave the oil area and the Galleon’s passage behind us. I think, pirates do not like rain. We had tons of rain and no pirates though……..although: Dick told me later, that 40 miles out of both coasts, the Grenadian and the Tobagonian, a fast open boat with 3 men in it sped past us. We think they were checking us out, how rich we are. The stretch between Tobago and Grenada apparently is also declared as an unsafe area. That is what we heard later when we arrived in Grenada. Our neigor, Steve, always has a gun with him. Happily, with enough wind and a strong currant we passed Tobago at 4:30 in the morning and arrived safely in Grenada at 17:00 on the 28th of May.

Close to the harbour at the quarantine anchorage we spoke to our South African friends of the Aventura, a young couple with 2 dogs and his parents on their way to emigrate to Panama. We saw them in every harbour we visited up to now. They left Suriname a few days earlier then we did. They craved for blue water and thought jaguar, caiman and anaconda would perhaps love their dogs too much. In any way, nice to see them again. They explained the Grenadian procedures to us and on Saturday we went ashore to register with the health department. We inhaled the positive and relaxed Grenadian vibe immediately: steel drum music from the taverns, people on the streets, Corona is almost dealt with.

And in the meantime, 1 week in St George, we are declared negative and are allowed to explore the island. Paul, a registered tour guide grabbed his chance. Slandering around the harbour he almost forced us to have a tour with him.  The cruise ships are missed by restaurants, tour guides…not by us. Paul told us, that they on “good” days had 6000 tourists from cruise ships ashore. Dick and I were quite happy to escape these “good“ days. Pity for Paul, that’s why we went with him on a long trip through St. George at noon and let him earn some ECDs.  Hot and up and down, I was exhausted at the end. We didn’t walk much for the last 2 months at least..

Grenada is the spice island: nutmeg, gloves, cinnamon, and other spices grow here. They have a golden waterfall and many more attractions. We will explore them all and share with you. For now, we experienced the spicy side of the island by drinking shandies with nutmeg, eating ice cream with nutmeg and gloves and some other weird things you would think its really ugg, but in reality it’s absolutely amazing.

We are registered for Astra Zeneca vaccination and yes, we are in a marina with a nice club house and WIFI and not on anchorage or at a mooring buoy. For the first time in almost 3 months, I am able to go and stay where I want on my own. For somebody like me, who likes her independence, its heaven. Opposite of our little paradise, there is another marina, posh and expensive and not really our style. Elitsha, would feel a bit lonely between all the posh-million dollar-yachts. I don’t know, if I mentioned before, that a lot of other cruisers, have fancy and well-equipped boats with freezers, bread baking automates, washing machine, water cooker……. you name it. Our only luxury is a fridge, a BBQ and a good stove with oven, cosy and exactly what we need no more and no less. Anyway, Elitsha got a good clean-up. Sticky, a local guy, Dick and I made her looking pretty again. The water of the Suriname river was dirty through mud and chemicals, they use for the gold extraction industry, we learned. And this was very difficult to get off the hull-0987654Qasdfuiop[.

My home office is in the marina’s clubhouse, with more than brilliant views!          Unfortunately, UBUNTU for Africa’s operations manager, who took over financials and admin of the NGO from me, resigned a few days ago. That’s why I am back on the job and working every day for an hour or 3. Alene Edson Smith, local social worker, who was already involved in the family program and took over my job at Kronendal Primary, is doing the hands-on jobs, where you have to be involved personally onsite, like team meetings, meetings with principals etc. For now, we won’t have stretches which will take more than 3 days and we have internet and WIFI. No problem to work though. I love my work as much as I love cruising. To combine both is absolutely great.

For the rest the NGO is in good hands, with our after-care team, Barbara Heye, who is mentor to a single mother with 3 kids. And as I mentioned before Alene Edson Smith, well known in the valley through her involvement through her own NGO, Serenity, took over the reins at Kronendal Primary from me and is mentor to 5 families in our NGO. We share the lead of UBUNTU for Africa. What I can do, I will do, where personal presence is needed, Alene will be hands on. She will lead the sound and music studio, which will release their first CD soon. Lelo managed to get 2 new volunteers into this project, for marimba and music production. Ricardo will remain taking the lead on Silikamva side and Alene will have a firm look and hand on the project.

After care is just running. Andiswa and her team also get support from Alene. But this team of 5 is just doing what they can do best: love our children and supervise, support, teach them and make sure that they are safe.  

 Questions for the kids:

1.       How many kilometres did we sail from Cape Town to Grenada?

2.       Which language do the people speak in Suriname?

3.       What kind of currency do we used in Suriname and which one in         Grenada?

4.       Please explain, what the modern pirates of the Caribbean are up to.

5.       What is the name of the small entrance to the Caribbean between Trinidad and Tobago?

 Sponsor sail:

For the ones who want to take part in our sponsor sail: We have sailed 1812 nautical miles. You can donate a cent, a Rand, a Euro or whatever per nautical mile. We are sailing for these amazing schools: every nautical mile and each Rand counts. To UBUNTU for Africa,German  NGO.                                                                                                                                                                   

The money will go to the UBUNTU for Africa projects: after care at Hout Bay Primary School and the music project at Silikamva High School. This organisation I started 12 years ago (www.ubuntuforafrica.com) Of course, you will receive a tax certificate. 

Ubuntu for Africa-Kinder-, Jugend und Familienhilfe in Südafrika                         

Volksbank Boenen e G                                                                                           

IBAN: DE91 4106 2215 0054 5799 01                                                                  

For South Africans and others, who want to donate directly to South Africa (also with tax certificate): please donate to Kronendal Primary School (www.kronendalprimary.com). I worked for 10 years at Kronendal Primary as a school counsellor. This school struggles financially due to the consequences of the Covid Pandemic and deserves our support.                                                   

KRONENDAL PRIMARY SCHOOL trading as CUIM (“the account holder”) holds the following account with                                                                                       

First National Bank, a division of FirstRand Bank Limited (“FNB”): Account Type BUSINESS ACCOUNT

Account Number 53452884035                                           

Branch Code 204009                                                                                         

Branch Name HOUT BAY 345                                                                               

Swift Code FIRNZAJJ                                                                            

[hotcosplaysblog]

8 Unique Cosplay Ideas for Girls

Looking for Cosplay idea for Girls?  Best way to show love for your favourite anime frictional character is Cosplaying. You get a chance to live as your frictional character, we got you some fantastic idea for playing cosplay and living you favourite characters life by using the makeup and dressing like them with us.

 Simple ideas for Playing cosplay for girls:

 We here offer you some ideas which will help you in living like a comic book frictional character life.

 #1 Harley Quinn Cosplay Costume 

 Harley Quinn has a large fan following round the arena. By which her dress gambling is being so famous globally. Ever because her debut in 1992, she went via very much less makeover`s. The fine element approximately it's miles that each new dress she unleashes is sexier than the preceding one. This makes her the suitable version for any lady who likes to be a step in advance of the hype. To assist you rejoice your love for her, we convey you this horny ensemble. It functions sparkly warm pants or shorts, “Daddy’s lil’ monster” t-shirt, a jacket and a left-hand glove.  

#2 Complete Custom Made Wonder Women Cosplay Costume 

  The Wonder Woman dress has additionally made a first rate evolution over the years. But this warrior princess has in no way did not impress. Her appears have constantly displayed consistency and held proper to her Amazonian character. This is the maximum latest layout from the superheroine and is certain to amaze large time. It accommodates a beautiful gladiator skirt in blue leather-based connected to a maroon corset. The pinnacle phase functions a hanging bronze trim. It mirrors the maroon and bronze knee-excessive gladiator boots. To whole the combo, you get a tiara, bracers and armbands. All you want now's the proper mind-set and your Diana Prince impact can be ideal.

#3 Jessica Rabbit Cosplay Costume 

  Are you seeking out particular lady cosplay thoughts for a unique occasion? Well, when you have something to flaunt, the Jessica Rabbit dress will do you justice. This head-turning outfit will region you with inside the limelight for all of the proper motives. It functions a sequined pink get dressed, an orange wig and lengthy blue gloves. Do now no longer fear in case your higher torso isn't always as ideal as Jessica’s. The get dressed comes whole with a corset and push-up bra to intensify your appearance. Your appropriate legs gets deserved interest way to the layout’s signature slit. Enjoy the transformation into the maximum iconic redhead ever with this charming outfit. The impact will ultimate via the cosplay occasion and beyond.

#4 Sailor Moon Scout Uniform Fuku Anime Cosplay Costume 

  There is something approximately nautical cosplay thoughts for women that evoke a horny appeal. The international loves lovable sailors and this outfit immediately makes you one. The cloth is soft, ideal for everybody who locations consolation specially else. The colorings are colourful and playful, lending the layout an elegant edge. The layout screams femininity and turns you into the remaining scout at any occasion. It comes with the sailor fuku gloves and tiara. You can also get an non-obligatory wig, unique corset and footwear for the whole Sailor Moon appearance.

#5 Female Captain America Cosplay Costume

 As some distance as lady cosplay characters go, Captain America has were given to be a maximum particular choice. There are such a lot of motives why you cannot beat the appearance. Here are some compelling ones. The outfit is a romper made the use of stretchy cloth to maximise on consolation. It has a waist cinched to beautify the female splendor and spotlight your curves. The layout flawlessly displays the proper spirit of the American culture. Paired with the proper footwear, it may see you clinch the fine dress title. It does now no longer require an excessive amount of attempt to appearance tremendous in this. This makes it one of the maximum famous cosplay thoughts for beginners. So in case you need a glance that is simple to tug off and warranted to thrill, appearance no further.

#6 Kill Bill Cosplay Costume   

The Bride withinside the Kill Bill film is any other tremendous suggestion for easy lady cosplay thoughts. Though she first regarded in a bridal gown, she is extra famend for the brilliant yellow suit. This makes her outfit ideal for everybody who desires to depart an indelible mark. The three-piece dress accommodates a couple of booty shorts, a hoop pinnacle bra and zip-up jacket. The stretchy cloth used has a metal end that makes it unforgettable. All the portions have yellow stripes to make the appearance as near as feasible to the original. To cosplay this outfit flawlessly, healthy the garments with vivid yellow and black sneakers. You can also get your self a bride sword and blonde wig and consider me, they'll remember.

#7 Pikachu Cosplay Costume 

  Female anime cosplay thoughts make for amusing and remarkable events. Evidently, the most effective restrict is your imagination. If you idea that Pikachu from Pokémon couldn't appearance horny, assume again. This vivid and colourful layout is right for the whimsical personality. The complete dress functions a get dressed, leggings, and armbands. It additionally comes whole with pointy ears and a tail and could elicit some laughs. The most effective component that’s lacking is pink blush or lipstick to finish the appearance. This dress is simple to tug off as all you want to do is have amusing with it. It brings out the child in you and helps you to unfold the cheer to all and sundry. So stay the journey at the subsequent renaissance honest and watch the arena round you mild up.

#8 Snow White Cosplay Costume

 Let’s face it, nearly each woman as soon as upon a time dreamed of being Snow White. Guess what, this feminine cosplay concept helps you to stay that fantasy. It is an tremendous wig designed to harmonize with the present day Snow White depiction. Your Snow White dress can not be whole until you've got got lustrous hair to healthy. In this portrayal, her jet black hair is styled into brief finger waves. The pink bow tops it up to finish the fairy story appearance and get the ball rolling. Paired with the proper get dressed, his will flip you right into a princess very quickly at all. It will offer the right possibility to fulfill your Prince Charming and begin your personal little fairy story.

[nauticalnorthblog]

Northern Michigan Adventures

Nautical North Family Adventures, located in Cheboygan, Northern Michigan, offers a wide range of things to do in Northern Michigan. This tourist attraction is only 15 miles from Mackinaw City.

It’s the premier scenic vacation destination that will satisfy your outdoor family entertainment craving.

You can keep your feet dry and view the underwater world on the glass bottom shipwreck tour or make a splash snorkeling, scuba diving or with kayak rentals. Our fleet includes the newly crafted Yankee Sunshine, a 36-foot glass bottom Newton with a seating capacity of 28 passengers and a roomy head (bathroom).

This fully covered vessel is ideal for enjoying the day on the water! The Yankee Sunshine is also certified for 15 scuba divers! The newest fleet member, the Huron Explorer, is a 28-foot Baha Cruiser specifically designed for scuba diving with a capacity of six divers. Our educational, historical, and scenic offerings include our professionally guided shipwreck tour traversing down the Inland Waterway, past three lighthouses and out into majestic Lake Huron. Duncan Bay is where passengers receive information rich in the history of shipwrecks of the Great Lakes. We feature stunning views of 3 shipwrecks through our glass bottom boat.

If you’re feeling adventurous, you can even snorkel over a wreck! We also offer an educational and historical Cheboygan River Tour where you can enjoy a leisurely ride up the Cheboygan River through the lock and dam system. Bring your refreshments and settle in to enjoy Northern Michigan in a unique way. If you prefer the privacy of your own boat tour, both of these tours are available as private charters, or you can suggest your own trip from two to 28 guests.

We will accommodate your needs for special occasions for families, corporations & groups such as anniversaries, birthdays & team activities - we’ve even provided a unique engagement on board. Call us to discuss your ideas.

The Straits area has some world-class scuba diving sites accessible with our charters.

We also now offer a full-service scuba dive certification program through SDI. Our charters cover many skill levels from novice ~12’ to technical ~170 foot dives. Come see what Northern Michigan scuba diving has to offer! For those that have been training and yearn for a challenging open water swim, Nautical North Family Adventures offers swim pilot services.

Contact us to plan your next long distance challenge! If you prefer to rent your own kayaks and explore the river or any one of our local inland lakes, we have 6 brand new kayaks available for full or half day rental, or even weekend or weekly rentals! From sunrise scuba to sunset shipwreck tours (underwater lights included!) we have your Lighthouse boat tours in Cheboygan Northern Michigan Lake Huron. See you soon!

[kalyan-gullapalli]

Post # 131

A bridge, its history and its mythology...

In 1860, a British Indian Naval Officer, Alfred Dundas Taylor, proposed that the time and distance taken by ships traveling from the west coast of India to its east coast and vice versa could be cut down significantly, if a sufficiently wide and deep passage was made connecting the Gulf of Mannar and The Palk Strait, separating the Indian mainland from Sri Lanka. Because of the shallow waters in the Gulf and the Strait, ships had to circumnavigate 400 nautical miles more, around Sri Lanka, taking them upto 30 more hours and a commensurate increase in cost. From 1860 till Indian independence in 1947, nine proposals were made and evaluated. But no action was taken.

In 1955, the independent Indian government set up a committee called the Sethusamudram Project Committee. After evaluating the costs and benefits, this committee found the project feasible and viable. Five more proposals and technical reports followed. But no action still, till 2005, when Dr. Manmohan Singh, the then Prime Minister, inaugurated the project, 145 years after the original proposal was made.

The project, budgeted at INR 2600 crores, was supposed to take 3 years, and was supposed to dredge a canal 165 km long, 300 meters wide and sufficiently deep to let cargo ships traverse that route.

Today is 2020. Fifteen years have passed and still no Setusamudram canal. Why? Because, right from its inception, the project had a few issues:

1. About 65 % of the ships in that area come from Africa and Europe. For them, the time saving was not 30 hours, but just 8 hours.

2. The channel could take only 30000 tonnage vessels. But most of the new ships, which are of 60000 tonnage and tankers, which are 150000 tonnes or more, cannot use the canal.

3. The project would disturb the ecological balance and destroy corals and kill marine life. It would also destroy conch trade worth INR 150 crores annually.

But the biggest issue was - the Sethusamudram canal would cut through and destroy what was left of the mythological Ram Sethu or Adam's bridge. And that would be disastrous to the political fortunes of the government that did that.

So what exactly is the story of the Ram Sethu or Adam's bridge? And why is it so sensitive? Therein lies a tale.

The Ram Sethu is today, a 50 km long chain of limestone shoals, between a village called Dhanushkodi, on Rameswaram Island (also called Pamban Island), in Tamil Nadu, India, and another village called Talaimannar on Mannar Island, in Sri Lanka. The bridge is believed to have been made by Lord Rama and his Vanara army to reach Lanka and rescue his wife, Sita from the evil king, Ravana. The Sri Lankan muslims, on the other hand, believe that Aadhaam, their first Islamic leader, walked over this bridge by foot from India to Lanka and thus this bridge has a holy connotation for them. Aadhaam got morphed to Adam, because the British found it easier to pronounce. Hence, this bridge was also called Adam's bridge. But for most Indians, especially Hindus, this bridge is Rama Setu or Nala Setu (because it was built by Nala, the architect-monkey in Rama's army).

That makes it mythological, right? Why worry about mythology in the 21st century?

Because that also makes the issue religious. In India, religious issues become political issues. Right wing parties like BJP and organizations like VHP put their foot down and said, "How can you break a bridge built by Ram?" Secular parties said, "Since Ram is mythological, Ram Sethu is mythological too."

I also grew up believing Ram and Ramayan to be undoubtedly mythological. But recently, I read a book called Historical Ram, written by D K Hari and his wife, D K Hemahari (who run an organization called Bharat Gyan), wherein they attempt to provide scientific and logical proof that Ram and Ramayan are historical.

The various arguments they put forward are as follows:

1. They say Ramayana and Mahabharata are called Itihasa in Sanskrit. Itihasa = Iti + hasa. Meaning - It happened like this = History.

They say that until the British came to India, Ramayana and Mahabharata were indeed considered to be have happened. The British classified these epics as mythology.

2. They use a technology called archaeo-astrology and make some powerful propositions. Archaeo-astrology is a technique of charting the future or past sky using a scientific tool called planetarium software. This tool helps to arrive at planetary positions, given a date in future or past. Vice-versa, given a set of planetary configurations, the tool can help identify the date in future or past, when the planetary configuration will or could have occurred.

This software was apparently developed by NASA to estimate the planetary positions of Voyager missions that would take 10-12 years to reach their destinations. Now, declassified, it is available for public use. Reminds me of how the internet was a classified invention of the US defence before it was made publicly available.

The authors refer to one Mr. Pushkar Bhatnagar, who used the original Sanskrit text of Ramayana and this technique to date the era of Lord Ram. For example, the birth of Rama is explained in detail by Valmiki.

This information, when fed into the software, tells us that Ram was born on 10th January, 5114 BC, at 12.30 pm, as per the Gregorian calendar!

This way, all major events in Ramayan were dated. Fantastic, isn't it?

Notice how the dating shows that Ram gets exiled when he was 25 years old, and how the Khar-Dushan episode happens in the 12th year of exile. Pretty consistent results, eh?

3. The geographic locations in Ramayan are actual places that exist even today - some of them have the same names then and now.

4. There is one school of thought that says that Ram Setu could be a natural phenomenon. The book refutes this possibility by saying that the layers of the bridge are so discrete that they can only he man-made.

None of these arguments are conclusive by themselves. But honestly guys, put together, there is a strong case that, after all, Ram and Ramayan may not be mere mythology. Maybe they are history - Itihas!

If they are, I would agree with Dr. Hari and his wife that Ram Sethu should be a protected monument. I will join them in demanding for a UNESCO world heritage site declaration for this piece of geography. Already in the past 500 years, a large part of it was lost to a cyclone. It is said that till 1480 AD, the bridge was a meter over sea level and one could walk from India to Sri Lanka over it.

And I look forward to the current BJP led NDA government and its minister, Nitin Gadkari's proposal that a bridge should be made from India to Sri Lanka, instead of a canal. This fits beautifully with this government's Look East foreign policy, whereby they are connecting all our neighbouring countries, as a counter to China and its aggressive intent.

[atomic-wizard]

For those of y’all who don’t understand the English measuring system... (contemporary measurements bolded)

Volume

Note that most things are two times greater than the previous, but some measurements have become obsolete, making the contemporary system convoluted.  The English system follows a 2ⁿ system while the metric system follows a 10ⁿ system.

1 minim ≈ 1 drop of water

20 minim = 1 fluid scruple

3 fluid scruples = 60 minim = 1 fluid dram/drachm (dr)

4 fluid scruples = 80 minim = 1 teaspoon (tsp)

3 teaspoons (tsp) = 1 tablespoon (tbsp) = 4 fluid drams/drachms (dr)

2 tablespoons (tbsp) = 1 fluid ounce (oz)

4 fluid ounces (oz) = 1 jack

8 fluid ounces (oz) = 1 cup = 2 jacks

A “cup” used to be referred to as “gill/jill” (gi).

2 cups = 1 pint (pt)

2 pints (pt) = 1 quart (qt)

2 quarts (qt) = 1 pottle

4 quarts (qt) = 1 gallon (gal) = 2 pottles

1 peck = 2 gallons (gal)

1 kenning = 2 pecks

1 bushel = 4 pecks = 2 kennings

1 strike = 2 bushels

1 coomb = 2 strikes

1 seam = 2 coombs

Weight

Note that many of these things stem from the dram/drachm, which was something to which a common person would have access and be able to conceptualize.

1 grain (gr) ≈ a seed of cereal

1 dram/drachm (dr) = the weight of silver in a Greek coin, the drachma

16 dram/drachm (dr) = 1 ounce (oz)

7,000 grains (gr) = 16 ounces (oz) = 1 pound (lb)

“lb” stands for libra, Latin for “scales/balance”

7 pounds (lbs) = 1 nail

14 pounds (lbs) = 1 stone (st) = 2 nails

28 pounds (lbs) = 4 nails = 2 stones (st) = 1 tod

1 hundredweight (qwt) = 4 tods = 112 pounds (lbs)

1 ton (t) = 2,240 pounds (lbs) = 160 stone (st) = 20 hundredweights (qwt)

1 slug = a mass that accelerates by 1 ft/s² when a force of one pound is exerted on it ≈ 32.17 pounds (lbs)

Length

Note that many of these measurements stem from estimates on the body: digits, fingers, palms, hands, cubits (the forearm), fathom (outstretched arms); or things that people would see at construction sites: nail, rod, chain.

1 line ≈ a poppyseed

1 barleycorn = 4 lines

3 barleycorn = 1 inch (in)

1 digit = ¾ inch (in)

1 finger = ⅞ inch (in)

1 inch (in) = 1,000 thous (th)

1 nail = 3 digits = 2¼ inches (in)

1 palm = 3 inches (in)

1 hand = 4 inches (in)

1 shaftment = 6 inches (in)

1 link = 7.92 inches (in) = 1% of a standard chain

1 span = 3 palms = 9 inches (in)

1 foot (ft) = 12 inches (in) = 4 palms = 3 hands = 2 shaftments

1 cubit = 18 inches (in) = 1½ feet (ft)

1 yard (yd) = 3 feet (ft) = 2 cubits = 36 inches (in)

1 ell = 45 inches (in)

1 fathom (ftm) = 2 yards (yd) = 6 feet (ft) = 72 inches (in)

1 rod/perch/pole = 16½ feet (ft)

1 chain (ch) = 4 rods = 22 yards (yd) = 66 feet (ft) = 100 links

1 furlong/stade (fur) = 40 rods = 660 feet (ft)

A furlong was considered the distance a plow team could furlough without rest.

1 mile (mi) = 5,280 feet (ft) = 1,760 yards (yd) = 8 furlongs/stades (fur)

The obscure numbering in contemporary feet and yards is due to its original definition in furlongs/stades.

10 cables = 1 nautical mile

1 nautical mile ≈ 1.15 miles (mi)

A nautical mile was originally defined as one minute of latitude along any degree of longitude.

1 league (lea) = 3 miles (mi)

Area

Note the focus on farming; land was largely defined according to a farmer’s work.

1 perch = 1 square rod

1 rood = 1 furlong in length by one rod in width = 40 perches

1 acre = 43,560 square feet (sq ft) = 4,840 square yards (sq yd) = 4 rood = 1 furlong in length by one chain in width

An acre is traditionally defined as the area a farmer can reasonably plow in one day.

“Acre” is a Saxon word for “field.”

1 bovate = 15 acres

A bovate is traditionally defined as the area an ox can reasonably plow in one year.

1 virgate = 2 bovates = 30 acres

A virgate is traditionally defined as the area a pair of oxen can reasonably plow in one year.

1 carucate = 4 virgates = 8 bovates = 240 acres

A carucate is traditionally defined as the area an eight-oxen team can reasonably plow in one year.

1 square mile (sq mi) = 640 acres = 3,097,600 square yards (sq yd) = 27,878,400 square feet (sq ft)

[pikapeppa]

Cullavellan and FenHawke pirate AU: Risks

Chapter 3 of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is here! Thanks for your patience, guys!

In which the Lady Luck finally appears, and Piper is NOT the sweet little pixie you think she is. Not entirely, anyway. Case in point: see below art by @schoute. HAHAHA.

Read here on AO3 instead; ~10,000 words.

******************

- PIPER -

Piper hummed softly to herself as she manned the helm. The skies were clear with only the odd wispy cloud in sight; perfect sailing conditions, to be sure. But Dorian had confirmed that a storm was moving in from the west, and that it would strike shortly after they were due to drop anchor near Hercinia this evening.

Piper was glad. Sunny weather was perfect for sailing, but there was nothing more thrilling than fighting through the crashing waves of a good storm. The Lady Luck was a hearty bitch, and Piper had been with this ship for long enough to know what storms she could handle. She’d been the captain for about three years now, and she’d been crew on this ship for some ten-odd years prior to that. When Piper set foot on the Lady Luck, it was like she was stepping onto another half of herself: the feel of these planks through the soles of her bare feet was just as familiar as the pulse of her own beating heart, and when Piper guided the ship toward a storm, the frothing waves slamming against the prow was just as exhilarating as the stinging lash of rain on her own skin.

Storms were exciting. Coming through a storm was a confirmation of life. Piper sometimes purposely steered toward a good storm for the sheer thrill of making it through the threat alive. The crew might think her mad for it, but all the better: she had a reputation to uphold, after all, and sailing them safely through the perfect storm was a great way to maintain it.

Tonight, though, it seemed that they’d be missing the storm. But no matter; Piper would still enjoy watching the rain as she settled into her cabin for the night. If she couldn’t sail into the heart of the storm, at least she could savour the scintillating fall of rain on her windows while snuggling into the multitude of cozy woven throws that littered her bed.

For now, however, the sun was hot on her shoulders and her head. With the ease of long practice, she deftly twisted her hair into a messy braid, then wrapped her fingers lovingly around the handles of the helm once more.

Varric wandered over to her with his thumbs hooked into his belt. “Captain,” he greeted. “Ready to hand over the helm?”

“Soon,” she said. She smiled at him. “The men are ready to port in Hercinia, I take it?”

“Raring to go,” Varric confirmed. “I divided the weekly loot among them, and it’s burning a hole in their pockets.”

She chuckled. “Of course it is.” She looked down at the deck as she carefully adjusted their course. Fenris was leading a training session in hand-to-hand combat for the unoccupied crew. The crew was particularly enthusiastic in their training today, as was typical for the day before they came into port; the training focused their extra energy, and by the time they hit dry land, they’d be more than ready to enjoy themselves in town.

Anders emerged from belowdecks and made his way past the enthusiastically training crew and up toward the helm, and Piper watched in amusement as he and Fenris exchanged their usual dirty looks.

“Doctor,” she said cheerfully as he approached. “What can I do for you?”

“Captain,” he said with a polite nod. “I was actually looking for Varric.” He turned to Varric hopefully. “Can you fetch more gin in town? As an antiseptic,” he clarified hastily at Piper’s mischievous grin. “I want to try something a little different. Usually I use elfroot, but it’s expensive. I think I should save it for severe cases of infection. If gin can serve just as well for minor wounds...”

Varric scratched his chin. “I can try. Hercinia’s not really the place for getting a deal on gin, though.”

“You know what town is a good place for getting gin?” Piper said brightly.

Varric smiled and shook his head, and Anders folded his arms. “Let me guess,” he said dryly. “Kirkwall?”

Piper pointed at him. “You’ve got it. Such a smart man, you are. I’m glad you’re the doctor on my ship.”

“Piper,” Varric said patiently, “going back to Kirkwall is a bad idea. They–”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me a hundred times, I’m wanted and they’re going to try and hang me, so on and so forth,” she said loftily. “But if Anders says he needs gin to heal up my crew, well…” She shrugged innocently. “Who am I to say no to the good doctor?”

“You’re the captain,” Varric said flatly. “It’s your prerogative to say no.”

“Or to say yes,” Piper said slyly, and Varric rolled his eyes.

Anders coughed into his hand, but Piper could see his smirk. “Why don’t you just let me know once you’ve decided…”

“Decided what?” Fenris said as he came up the stairs to join them on the helm. He wiped his sweaty forehead on his arm and frowned at Anders.

Anders pursed his lips. “Whether the Captain wants to try and purchase gin in Hercinia, or buy it in Kirkwall.”

“Kirkwall?” Fenris said sharply. “No.”

Piper raised her chin. “Fenris, we’ve talked about this,” she said warningly.

“Yes, we have,” he said. “It is a bad idea. There is a price on your head in Kirkwall. Is it worth risking your life for the sake of witty banter with that blasted Commander?”

Piper grinned at him. “Ah, so you admit my banter is witty.”

“Marginally so,” Fenris drawled. He raised an eyebrow. “I advise against it. Disregard what the doctor here might say.” He shot Anders another dirty look as he headed back down to the main deck.

Anders glared at his departing back, then turned to Piper once more. “You’re the captain,” he said insistently. “It’s up to you.” He gave her a half-bow, then turned away. “Now I’ve got to go feed Ser Pounce-A-Lot. The cargo bay has been low on mice recently.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Piper yelled after him. She shook her head wryly. “There’s no pleasing them, is there?” she said to Varric. “First it’s ‘oh Captain, there are too many mice,’ then it’s ‘oh Captain, my kitty is getting so skinny because there aren’t enough mice’...”

“I’m pretty sure Blondie is the only one complaining about a lack of mice,” Varric said. “But seriously, Piper, are you really thinking about going back to Kirkwall? It hasn’t even been a full month since we were last there. I doubt the hype about you has died down just yet.”

Piper wrinkled her nose, then sighed. “I know, I know. I’m mostly joking. I suppose I can go a while longer without seeing the Golden Boy.” She kept her tone casual and light to hide the little pang she felt at the thought of Cullen.

He’s been so earnest the last time they’d met, and it still took Piper by surprise when she thought of how he’d allowed her to escape. Sure, she and Cullen were friendly, and he was more indulgent with her than with other pirates who caused trouble in Kirkwall – more indulgent than he should be, probably, if Piper was completely truthful. But she honestly hadn’t suspected that he would be so concerned about her welfare that he’d defy direct orders to let her get away.

It hadn’t really occurred to her that Cullen might genuinely care about her.

An inconvenient wistful feeling made her throat feel tight. She turned the helm a few degrees to the east, then stepped back and waved graciously to the helm. “All right, I’d say my shift is up. Ser Quartermaster, the Lady Luck is yours.”

“You got it,” Varric said.

Piper strolled toward the deck and sat on a bench, then crossed her legs and started idly braiding a lock of hair as she observed her crew. The Lady Luck was home to forty-five sailors, a mixed bag of men and women and elves and humans and dwarves. A handful of them were longtime crew who had been on the Lady Luck since Deshanna was still alive: grizzled older sailors who’d known Piper since she was a skinny street thief that Deshanna had saved from hanging. Most of the others, including Fenris, were former slaves from the Tevinter ships that were Piper’s favoured prey. Then there were her handful of crew who’d joined the ship for their own various reasons: Anders, Dorian, Varric and Cole among them – though Cole’s reasons for joining the Lady Luck were still something of a mystery to Piper. She couldn’t really remember when Cole had joined them; the more she thought about it, the harder it seemed to be for her to recall where they’d even picked him up. But he was a good little aide to Dorian, and that was what mattered.

At that moment, Cole called down to her from the crow’s nest. “Captain Lavellan,” he said. “There’s a ship.”

She rose to her feet. “Where?” she called back.

He pointed northeast. Piper grasped the rigging and hopped up onto the taffrail, then peered in the direction he’d indicated.

Sure enough, a ship was just visible about two nautical miles away. It was hard to say for sure from this distance, but based on the size and width of the ship, it looked to be Tevinter.

Piper looked over her shoulder at the crew. “Hey,” she barked. “Look sharp, everyone. Possible raid coming up.”

They saluted her and split off to find their weapons. Fenris deftly stepped onto the taffrail beside her, then peered over her head. “It is a Tevinter vessel,” he confirmed.

Piper nodded. “It’s what, maybe ten minutes out?”

“Yes,” Fenris said brusquely. He jumped back down to the deck and palmed the handle of his sabre. “We will be ready.”

“Always,” Piper said seriously. She stepped down from the taffrail, then strode back toward the stern and slipped through the door to the captain’s quarters.

Dorian was sitting at the table in her quarters poring over a number of maps. “You know, Captain, you should see if the next ship you loot has a better telescope,” he said.

“Why?” Piper said distractedly. “What’s wrong with ours?” She strode over to her arms chest and opened the lid.

“Oh, nothing in particular,” Dorian said lazily as he continued to peruse the maps. “But bigger is always better, don’t you think? Besides, I’ve always wanted a nice gilded one to match my rings.”

“Well, you might be in luck,” Piper said. “We’re about to raid a Tevinter ship in about ten minutes.” She strapped her favourite Orlesian épée around her hips and a fine Rivaini dagger to her ankle, then glanced at Dorian over her shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind a gilded telescope from home sweet home.”

Dorian huffed in amusement and didn’t bother to look up from the table. “That would be perfect, in fact,” he said. “Say what you will about my dear old motherland, but our spyglasses are second to none.”

Piper snorted. She tucked a pistol into the back of her belt, then hauled on her boots. “All right, wish me luck,” she said.

“You don’t need luck,” he told her as she passed him by. “You make your own, remember?”

She laughed. “Damned right I do.” She shot him a quick wink, then returned to the deck.

The crew were gathered there and armed to the teeth. Fenris strode toward her with his face creased in a scowl. “It is definitely a slaver ship. Straight from Minrathous, from the sails,” he said.

“Good,” Piper said fiercely. She shielded her eyes and looked up at the crow’s nest. “How far out are they, Cole?” she yelled.

“Less than a mile,” he called back. “Even less now. And even less now…”

Piper nodded, then looked at her assembled crew. “You all know the drill,” she shouted. “Take everything, and leave none alive except the slaves. I want this done in less than an hour. Got it?”

There was a loud chorus of ‘aye Captain’s. Piper unsheathed her épée, then held it high. “You’re the demons of the sea! Let the whites of your eyes be the last thing they see before the depths take them!”

The crew roared their approval, and their combative shouts thrummed through Piper’s blood, setting her heart to thrumming in anticipation of the fight. She traipsed down the stairs to join Fenris at the taffrail. “Ready?” she asked.  

He gave her a brisk unsmiling nod. His eyes were on the Tevinter ship, which was drawing closer by the second. The rest of the crew crowded close as the enemy ship drew closer, and Piper shot them a feral grin.

“Let them hear you,” she yelled. All at once, the crew of the Lady Luck began to howl at the Tevinter ship.

The bellowing taunts and threats of her crew rang in her ears. She relished in the sound of it and the terror in the faces of her foes, then took a deep breath and joined in with their shouts, flinging vitriol and insults as they drew alongside  the Tevinter ship. Only Fenris was silent and still as he stood beside her with his hand on the hilt of his sabre.

Piper gestured sharply with her sword. “Go!” she roared.

The swiftest of her crew swung across the gap from the Lady Luck to the Tevinter ship and began to strike down the slavers. More of Piper’s men flung grappling hooks across the gap to shimmy across while the Tevinters were distracted, and others still began a stealthy approach in smaller dinghies, with one such dinghy heading straight to the keel to sabotage the rudder. A handful of Piper’s archers were perched up high in the masts, and they carefully rained arrows on the slaver crew, further enhancing their panic.

Piper and Fenris exchanged a quick glance, then swung across to the slaver ship and landed lightly on their feet. Without speaking, they fell into a swift and brutal routine: Fenris downed his foes with his heavy sabre and daggers while Piper focused her efforts with swift and vicious thrusts of her Orlesian épée, and all the while they stayed back-to-back to avoid being flanked. The slavers were disorganized and panicked, clearly not having anticipated the viciousness of this attack, and it wasn’t long before Piper’s hands were painted with blood.

She booted an approaching sailor in the chest, then lunged at him with her sword and stabbed him before he hit the deck. She briskly shoved a stray lock of hair from her face and looked around the deck; none of her men seemed overwhelmed, and the vast majority of the corpses on the deck were Tevinter.

She turned to Fenris, who met her eye and gave her a sharp nod. Together, they darted toward the bow and slipped through the door that would lead to the crew quarters and eventually to the cargo bay.

The crew quarters were largely empty, the crew being occupied fending off Piper’s men up on the deck. But as Piper and Fenris moved through the quarters, she heard a muffled whimper, followed by a scuffle and a slap.

She narrowed her eyes and quietly drew her dagger. “Come out, come out,” she crooned. “If you show yourself, I promise to make it quick and easy.”

Fenris growled softly, and Piper held up a placating hand as she peered around in the crew’s quarters. The light down here was low, but Piper’s elven eyes swiftly picked up a large shadow moving just off to the left.

She glanced at Fenris; from the sneer on his face, he’d spotted the movement too. They continued to move stealthily through the crew’s quarters as though they hadn’t spotted anything, with Fenris moving off toward the right-hand wall while Piper remained along the center of the space.

Then a human man rose to his full height and planted himself in front of Piper. His flintlock was aimed at Piper’s face, and his other hand was gripping the arm of a half-dressed and terrified-looking elven girl who looked at least five years younger than Piper.

“Stop right there,” he barked. “I’ll blast a hole in your face the size of my fist.”

Piper raised her eyebrows and took a step closer. “Oh. So a very tiny hole, then?”

He scowled. “Wh– what?”

Piper tilted her head and tapped her chin mockingly. “Oh sorry, you said ‘fist’. I thought I heard ‘cock’.”

Piper’s Tevinter challenger snarled. “You fucking bi–”

Fenris melted out of the shadows behind him and kicked him in the backs of the knees. He dropped his flintlock with a grunt of shock, and the elven girl screamed, and in the blink of an eye, Piper was clutching a handful of the man’s greasy hair and hauling his head back.

She sneered at his gobsmacked expression and delicately laid the edge of her dagger along the left side of his throat, just beneath the angle of his jaw. “Any last words?” she asked.

He gasped for breath. “Fu–”

“Never mind. I don’t give a shit,” Piper said. With a vicious, firm slash of her dagger, she laid his throat open.

His eyes flew wide, and his fingers scrabbled instinctively at his neck, but it was too late; blood was pouring from the wound like floodwater from an overflowing barrel. He tried to gasp for breath, but the blood was leaking into his windpipe, and Piper couldn’t help but derive some sense of satisfaction from the gurgling sounds of his failing breath.

When his body started going limp, she released his hair and watched impassively as he slumped to the floor. She met Fenris’s eyes, and for the first time since they’d set foot on the ship, he spoke.

“Good,” he said.

Piper nodded in agreement. She crouched beside the elven girl, who was cowering on the floor and covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.

“Hey,” Piper whispered. “You’re all right now. You’re safe.”

The girl sobbed even harder. Piper solicitously rearranged the girl’s torn and dirty shirt to cover her bruised skin, then looked up at Fenris and waved for him to come closer. “Fen, can you take her–”

“Na!” the girl squeaked. She started babbling in Tevene, and her bony fingers dug into Piper’s wrist as she cowered away from Fenris.

Fenris’s lips were pressed together in a hard, narrow line. “She doesn’t want to go anywhere with me,” he said flatly. He gestured brusquely at his arms.

“Right, right,” Piper said hastily. Tevinter captives were always afraid of Fenris’s tattoos, for some reason that Piper wasn’t fully clear on.

She awkwardly tugged her braid, then smiled at the elven girl as kindly as she could. “Can you ask her how many other prisoners are on this ship? And tell her we’re going to get them to safety.”

Fenris spoke briskly to the elven girl, who answered him in a tremulous voice. He looked at Piper. “There are approximately fifty captives in the hold,” he said. “They had more, but many died during the trip.”

His voice was as hard as his eyes. Piper nodded seriously. “Fetch Varric and a few of the others to help the captives. Then we can go and start looting…”

She trailed off as the elven girl continued to speak to Fenris in an urgent tone. His frown deepened as the girl spoke, and he looked at Piper once more. “She says the ship is carrying blood lyrium. She heard one of the sailors say it was slated for a contact in Darktown.”

Piper’s eyebrows rose. “Blood lyrium for Kirkwall, huh? Interesting. That’s the third time in what, eight months or so?”

Fenris nodded. He looked furious, and Piper couldn’t blame him. The potent drug was supposedly named for its blood-red colour, there was a darker reason underlying the name; the mining of raw lyrium was extremely dangerous and almost exclusively conducted by slaves, resulting in the deaths of dozens of slaves per month in the Tevinter mines.

It was Fenris who had told Piper all of this. He used to work at a blood lyrium mine, back before he’d left Tevinter.

She nibbled the inside of her cheek. “Okay. We’ll make sure it goes down with the rest of the ship. Let’s get the captives moving back to the Lady Luck.”

Fenris nodded and strode away to fetch Varric and a few other crewmates, and Piper sat beside the elven girl to wait for their return. The girl looked calmer now that Fenris was gone, and even offered Piper a tentative smile.

Piper smiled back at her, then nodded her head in the direction that Fenris had gone. “He’s all right, you know,” she said, even though the girl couldn’t understand her. “He’s, um…” She mentally sorted through her limited Tevene vocabulary. “Amicus,” she finally said. “He’s a friend. He can even be friendly sometimes, I swear.”

The girl shook her head at the word amicus. “Vigilate. Proditor,” she said.

Piper pulled a face and shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t know what those words mean. But I promise his bark is worse than his bite.” She tapped her chin. “Unless you’re a slaver. Or trying to kill him. Or trying to kill anyone else on the crew.”

The elven girl stared at her in confusion, and Piper smirked and patted her hand. “Ah, never mind. All’s well that ends well, right?”

“Hey, Piper.” Varric came down the stairs with three crew members in his wake. “We’ll take over from here. You and Fenris can go loot with the others.”

“Ah, my favourite. Grabbing the booty,” Piper said. She wiggled her eyebrows and snickered as Varric shook his head in mock dismay. She squeezed the elven girl’s hand one more time before heading back to the upper decks.

Fenris and a few more crew were prowling among the corpses and collecting their weapons, then tossing them into a nearby empty crate. “High quality arms,” Fenris told her as she approached. “Typical of a Tevinter ship.” He inspected a gilded dagger impassively, then tossed it into the crate along with the others.

“Keep an eye out for a telescope,” she told him. “Dorian made a special request.”

Fenris grunted. “Of course he did.”

Piper smirked at him as she began helping with the weapons collection. Once the weapons were done, she and Fenris headed toward the captain’s quarters to search for valuables.

“So,” she said as they began raiding the opulently decorated cabin. “Since this the third time we’ve seen blood lyrium going to Kirkwall, we should probably head back and notify the Navy, don’t you think?”

“Why?” Fenris said flatly.

“Professional courtesy,” Piper said casually. “To get a leg up on those Tevinter scum. You know, the usual stuff.” She opened a velvet-lined chest beside the captain’s bed, then smiled. “Ah! Gilded telescope. Perfect.”

Fenris glanced at her with a long-suffering expression. “We owe the Navy no professional courtesy. We are not professionals.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d call myself a professional,” Piper said. “Professional slave-killer, professional booty-collector…” She gave Fenris an expectant smile.

As always, he didn’t disappoint. He rolled his eyes and snorted, and Piper cackled as she continued to snoop through the now-deceased captain’s belongings.

“Piper, stop hiding behind excuses,” Fenris scolded. “If it’s your wish to risk your neck to see Cullen again, then be up-front about it.” He shrugged casually and began scooping some silver coins into a velvet pouch. “I have no problem with Varric taking over the captain’s role. We would likely have smoother sailing without you.”

Piper gasped in mock offense. “Wow, Fen. That cuts deep.”

“It was meant to,” Fenris retorted. “Perhaps I hoped to shock some sense into you.”

“Oh please,” Piper scoffed. “Nothing shocks me, and certainly not into sense.” She picked up the telescope case and a sack of jewelry she’d found under the mattress. “I’ve decided our plans. Hercinia for the night, then Rialto Bay for those of the captives who want to go. Then we’re going back to Kirkwall, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t,” Fenris informed her as he followed her out to the deck. “Just to be completely clear.”

“Good to know,” she said cheerfully.

“I shall stay on the ship,” he threatened.

“Good,” Piper said. “I’ll tell that lovely Lady Rynne that you said hello, then, if I see her.”

He didn’t reply, and Piper glanced at him from the corner of her eye. The tips of his ears were turning red.

Piper bit back a smirk. “Or you could come with me to Hightown and say hello yourself.”

Fenris looked at her sharply. “You would go to Hightown directly? You would really be that foolish?”

She widened her eyes innocently at him. “How else am I supposed to find Cullen to tell him about the lyrium?”

Fenris stared at her. “Piper.”

She laughed and skipped away from him. She placed the telescope and jewelry into one of the crates with the rest of the loot, then waved to her nearby people. “All right, boys and girls, let’s get this loaded up!” she yelled.

Then she turned back to Fenris. “Come on, Fen. What’s the point of life if you don’t take a little risk now and then?”

“I have taken enough risks,” he snapped.

“None that you chose for yourself,” she retorted.

He scowled at her, and she grimaced and shrugged. “Just a thought,” she said. Then she slipped over the taffrail and slid down a rope to the nearest dinghy.

Once she was back on the Lady Luck, she strolled into her quarters. Dorian was still there, poring over a book and muttering to himself about undercurrents in the Waking Sea.

“How did it go?” he said vaguely.

She sat on her bed and hauled off her boots, then wiggled her toes in relief. “Great,” she said. “Cut some throats, stole some good stuff. The others will scupper the ship as soon as the captives are settled here.”

“Mm, that’s good,” Dorian murmured. He turned a page of his book. “I don’t suppose you found me a telescope?”

“I did, in fact,” Piper said.

He finally looked up from his book. “You did?”

She walked over to him and flicked his gold-adorned ear. “Don’t ever say I do nothing for you, you brat.” She turned to her little liquor cabinet and pulled out a half-empty bottle of rum.

“Well well, I’ll have to demand luxury goods more often if you indulge me so,” Dorian said happily. “Long live Captain Mad Piper. May you always bring me fancy gifts from every ship you sink.”

Piper took a swig from the bottle, then grinned at him as she handed it over. All in all, it had been a successful day: a morning of smooth sailing, followed by the takedown of a filthy slaver ship. The crew would be refreshed after a night in Hercinia, and then they’d be on their way to the Rialto Bay.

And then, at long last, Piper would go back to Kirkwall, and she’d get to see Cullen’s charming little smile again.

********************

“This is a mistake,” Fenris warned her.

“I’ll miss you too,” she said cheekily. She tucked a stray strand of her hair back into the scarf that was containing the rest of her hair, then jammed a large floppy hat onto her head to hide the distinctive silvery mass.

Fenris made a disgusted noise, and Varric sighed. “Seriously, Piper, this is… not a great idea.”

She shot Varric a warning look, and he unfolded his arms and sighed again. “But you’re the captain, so it’s up to you.” He waved at the rope ladder that trailed down to the dinghy.

She gently punched Varric’s shoulder. “Good man,” she said. “I’ll see you guys in Darktown at the usual pickup.”

“If you survive the day,” Fenris remarked.

“Two royals and a bottle of rum say I will,” she replied. Then she clambered down the ladder.

Fifteen minutes later, she stepped off the dinghy and onto the deserted beach. She nodded thanks to her crewmate, and he began to row away as Piper slid into the nearest thicket of untended dune grass.

This beach led straight to the navy headquarters – or the Gallows, as it was less-than-fondly known by the broader pirate community. It was guarded on all sides by navy guardsmen, but with a little determination and a lot of stealth, the guards could be easily bypassed.

Luckily, Piper had both in spades.

She snuck through the grass and waited for gaps in the guards’ formations. Soon she was sneaking through the shadows along the side of the navy headquarters building. She knew that Cullen’s office was on the eastern side of the building – he’d told her once that he enjoyed watching the sunrise from his window when he was on early duty – so it was just a matter of strategically peeking in the windows until she caught sight of him.

And more importantly, until he caught sight of her.

It didn’t take long for her to spot him, what with his height and those swoon-worthy shoulders and that glorious head of wavy blond hair. She ducked down below his window as soon as she spotted him; he was talking to two of his men, and she listened hard through the glass until the voices fell quiet.

Carefully and slowly, she peeked into his window. He was standing with his palms flat on the desk and perusing some documents, and he was alone.

Piper stood up and tapped firmly on the window.

His hand instantly went to his sword as he whipped around. His face was creased in a scowl, but as soon as he saw her face, his mouth dropped into a perfect ‘o’ of surprise.

Piper grinned at him. His face was already turning red, and a feeling of warmth spread through her chest at the charming pinkness of his cheeks.

She winked at him, then darted away. Swiftly and silently she hurried around the side of the building, and when she was at the southeast corner of the building, she started untying her skirt.

It was a long, flowing skirt of the type that elven servants tended to wear in the Free Marches. Piper had tied the bulk of it to her legs so she could sneak up to the building, but now it was time for the skirt to serve its purpose.

She let the fabric fall into place around her legs. She adjusted her hat and made sure her hair was hidden, then boldly strolled around the front of the navy headquarters building.

As she was crossing the courtyard toward the gates that led into Hightown, she heard the sonorous creak of heavy wooden doors.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled: Cullen was striding down the steps with a scowl on his face.

She beamed at him as he strode toward her. “Why hello, Golden Boy, fancy meeting you here.”

“What are you doing here?” he demanded as he hurried closer. “If anyone sees you–”

“Commander,” a voice called from the steps of the headquarters. “Can you sign this, please? I forgot to ask you before…”

Cullen whipped around. Rylen was standing on the steps with a stack of papers in his hands, but his eyes went wide as they fell on Piper.

“Wait,” Rylen said dumbly. “Is that–”

Piper had no choice. Cullen couldn’t be seen chatting with her, or he’d get in trouble. She deftly tucked one foot behind Cullen’s heel and shoved him with all her strength.

Fenedhis, he was a solid wall of muscle. But the trick took him by surprise, just as she’d hoped it would: he stumbled over her booted foot and fell onto his butt with an oomph of surprise.

“Commander!” Rylen shouted.

Piper grinned at Cullen’s stunned face. “Chase me,” she said, and she hiked up her skirt and took off.

She pelted straight into the heart of Hightown. Nobles and servants were milling around sedately and wandering from shop to shop, and they looked up in alarm as Piper flung herself among them. But as soon as she was in the thick of the crowd, she dropped her skirts and adjusted her posture to a meek and deferential slouch.

She walked demurely among the other marketgoers and subtly tried to adjust her hair beneath her hat. She could already feel it coming loose from the scarf, and she was starting to regret not braiding it up.

A minute later, she heard his stern commanding voice: “Captain Lavellan!”

She smirked. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to get the Commander to call out her name in a considerably more personal situation.

She looked over her shoulder. Cullen was there with four of his men behind him, and as soon as he met her eye, he scowled.

“Lavellan, stop!” he barked. But even from this distance, Piper could see the worry in the tilt of his eyebrows.

She grinned at him, then bolted away through the crowd, ignoring the protests and angry outbursts of the Hightown nobles as she hurriedly pushed past them.

“Excuse me–!”

“Maker’s breath, these elves are out of control.”

“Blasted knife-ears, I’m telling you…”

Piper chanced a glance behind her. Cullen and his men were hot on her trail, and Cullen was just starting to pinken in the face from the chase.

She skipped around to face him. “Desk work must be slowing you down, Commander,” she yelled. “This is hardly a challenge.”

His scowl deepened, and Piper couldn’t help but laugh as she darted around a corner. She bolted down a less-populated alleyway and rounded another corner. Then her booted feet skidded against the rain-dampened market streets, and she almost lost her balance.

“Fuck,” she swore. Her fingers scrabbled on the paving stones for purchase, and she quickly regained her footing, but the skid was enough for Cullen and the other recruits to round the corner after her.

They were a mere ten metres away now. She looked up, and her stomach dropped: it was a dead end.

She muttered a curse and looked around for another way to escape. With no exit in view, Cullen and his men were gaining on her with alarming speed.

“You have nowhere else to run, Lavellan. Surrender!”

Cullen’s commanding voice rang out in the alley, and a perverse shiver ran down Piper’s spine at the sound. In a friendlier context, she’d happily provoke that commanding tone from her Golden Boy, but with his men present and that inconvenient death sentence hanging over her head…

Then she spotted her means of escape: stacks of crates piled against the wall, then a span of maybe two metres to the top of the wall itself. The climb was steep, and the crates looked rickety at best, but she’d managed crazier stunts before.

She lifted her skirts, then bolted toward the stack of crates and vaulted onto the nearest one.  Without hesitating, she began scrambling up the stack of crates.

Fucking skirt, she thought as the fabric caught on the crate splinters. Nevertheless, she was nearing the top of the stack, and Cullen and his men were still scrambling down the alley.

She hauled herself onto the top of the stack, then looked down at Cullen. “Apologies, Commander,” she called down. “Surrender just isn’t in my vocabulary.” She carefully turned to face the wall, and with a deep, steadying breath, she leapt for the top of the wall.

Her dexterous fingers only just managed to catch a hold. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to haul herself halfway up and dig her booted feet into the bricks.

She hauled herself onto the top of the wall and sank into a balanced crouch, then looked down at Cullen and his men. The lieutenants were attempting to follow her up the crates, but they were too heavy and the crates too weak; with a pathetic creaking of splintering wood, the crates toppled into a mess of wood on the ground.

Piper released a heavy breath and grinned. Cullen’s chest was visibly heaving from the exertion of the chase, and his brow was set in a deep frown.

Mythal’s mercy, he was gorgeous when he was mad. When he wasn’t mad, too, but she would take what she could get. She blew him a kiss. “Another time, Commander!” she chirped, and she hopped off the wall to the other side.

She landed lightly on the balls of her feet, then rose to her feet and slumped back against the wall to catch her breath. From the other side of the wall, she could hear Cullen’s voice barking orders to his men.

“You two, head to the Lowtown entrance. Rylen, remain at the mouth of this alley in case she doubles back. I’ll head in the direction of the Chantry in case she passes that way.”

The Chantry, Piper thought. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. That was the perfect place to go. Cullen’s men wouldn’t expect the heathen Mad Piper to set foot in the precious Chantry, and since Cullen himself was going there…

Maybe he said it on purpose. Now that was a thrilling thought. Giving them a sneaky way to talk before she got out of Hightown, perhaps?

There was only one way to find out. She lifted her stupid skirt and ran down the deserted back alley, then made her way to the Chantry and swiftly slipped through the heavy carved doors.  

The doors slowly swung shut behind her, and Piper pressed her back against the doors for a moment and looked around. The main room seemed to be empty; if anyone was present, it seemed that they were puttering around in a back room somewhere.

Piper removed her hat and haphazardly tucked it into her sash as she gazed around, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the low light. This was the first time she’d ever set foot in the Kirkwall Chantry, and she’d be lying if she denied that it was beautiful.

Murals of Andraste’s teachings spanned the walls from floor to ceiling. The intricate stained glass windows and the vaulted ceilings covered in gold filigree all added to the ornate and reverent feel, and Piper felt amusingly out of place. Her dirty boots and sun- and seaworn clothing seemed practically sinful as she padded silently along the marble floors.

She idly trailed her callused fingers along the shiny wooden pews as she made her way further into the building. Finally, close to the front of the Chantry, she gazed up into the intricately carved face of an obscenely large statue of Andraste.

She smirked and lifted a finger to her scarred lips. “Shhh,” she whispered. “Don’t give me away, all right? You were a feisty one, or so I hear, but so am I.”

Her hushed voice was swallowed by the thick velvet draperies that hung at the back of the Chantry. Piper smirked at the enormous statue for a moment longer, then tucked her thumbs idly into her belt. It was the middle of the week, but it still seemed odd that this place was so empty. Given how pious most humans were in this part of the world, she’d have expected there to be more people.

Right on cue, she heard the groan of the Chantry doors opening. She quickly ducked behind the Andraste statue, but as soon as she recognized the silhouette of the intruder, a grin spread across her face.

She nonchalantly stepped out from behind the statue. “Commander,” she said. “Come for some midweek worship? I had no idea you were so devout.”

Cullen pursed his lips and tromped along the central aisle toward her, and Piper noted with a spark of pleasure that he was alone. All the same, she casually folded her hands behind her back, all the better to grab the dagger that was hidden in the back of her belt should the need arise.  

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said in a stern but quiet tone as she strode toward the dais.

She leaned casually against the statue of Andraste. “And here I thought you’d be pleased to see me in a church,” she said. She lowered her voice to a provocative purr. “Should I fall to my knees before you and show how repentant I am?”

His face instantly went bright red. She could see his flush even in the warm orange light streaming through the stained glass windows.

“You know what I mean,” he said warningly. “Piper, I told you–”

“Oh, we’re still on a first-name basis, are we?” she said happily. “I thought you’d have forgotten me, I was gone so long. I guess that’s something we can all thank Andraste for.”

He exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “I told you not to come back to Kirkwall,” he said. “You know my orders. You… I told you what would happen if you were caught.”

He sounded angry, but his expression was a dead giveaway. He was worried about her.

The look on his face made her heart flutter in her chest. No one ever worried about her. Not that anyone had to; Piper didn’t need anyone fussing over her. She could look after herself. She’d been looking after herself since Papa had died when she was nine years old. But the fact that Cullen was concerned…

She moved her hands away from her dagger and folded her arms instead. “Don’t worry, Golden Boy. You couldn’t take me in even if you wanted to.”

He scowled. “What do you mean by that?”

She jerked her thumb at Andraste. “Sanctuary. That’s a thing, right? Varric told me about it. I’m safe from the law as long as I’m in this building.” She pushed away from the statue and wandered over to the nearest pew. “In fact, this building is so nice, I think I might just stay here all day long.”

Cullen glared at her. “You can’t stay here all day.��

“Oh, I think you’ll see that I can,” she said silkily. She seated herself on the pew and blinked up at him. “How shall we pass the time, Golden Boy? I can certainly think of a few ways. Though I’m not sure how I’d feel about her watching.” Piper jerked her chin at the statue of Andraste, then delicately crossed her legs and rearranged her skirt, lifting it up to her thigh in the process.

Cullen didn’t reply. Piper glanced at him, and a warm thrill ran down her spine: his wide-eyed gaze was on her exposed leg, just as she’d hoped.

She bit her lower lip. “See something you like, Commander?” she said huskily.

He jolted, and his eyes darted back to her face. “Um,” he said, and he ran a hand over his cravat.

His face was absolutely flaming. Piper watched with glee as he visibly collected himself, then frowned at her once more.

He folded his arms. “Captain Lavellan, what are you doing here?” he asked. “I told you what the consequences were. What could possibly be so important that you would risk a hanging to come here?”

His tone was very different than before: still a bit stern, but tired now more than anything. Piper finally decided to cut him some slack.

She arranged her skirt so it fell modestly to her ankles again. “What do you know about blood lyrium?”

His eyes went wide for a telltale moment, then narrowed suspiciously. “I know it’s an extremely dangerous substance for those who rely on it,” he said. “Why? What do you know of it?”

She studied him shrewdly. This mattered to him a great deal, and that was something of a surprise. Lyrium smuggling was illegal, but the intensity of his attention made it clear that there was more to this than just a matter of the law.

She recrossed her legs and waved at the pew. After a moment’s hesitation, Cullen gingerly sat down.

Piper slung her arm casually along the back of the pew. “I know it’s just as dangerous for the slaves who are forced to mine it as it is for people who take it,” she said. “Fen told me. He used to work in a lyrium mine.”

Cullen raised his eyebrows. “That… that would make sense, given his… where he comes from,” he said. “But what does that have to do with you coming here?”

“We sank a Tevinter slaver ship carrying blood lyrium into Kirkwall,” she said. “Third one in the past nine months or so. Thought you’d want to know you were having a, um, a problem…”

She trailed off. Cullen was staring at her, and his face was going pale.

She swallowed. She liked it so much more when his cheeks were turning pink. “Cullen, what’s wrong?”

“Did you see where it was shipping to exactly?” he asked urgently. “Or to whom?”

“Not… not to whom,” she said cautiously. “But we know where their Kirkwall contact was located.”

“Where?” Cullen demanded.

She frowned. “Cullen, what–”

“Piper, you must tell me what you know,” he interrupted. He was scowling at her now. “This is not some humorous chase through the market. It’s very urgent.”

Piper raised her eyebrows and leaned away from him slightly. “So this is an interrogation now? Last I checked, we weren’t at the Gallows.”

His scowl deepened for a moment. Then he sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. “I… I apologize,” he muttered. “I wasn’t…” He trailed off, and Piper studied his tired expression with an inconvenient pang of sympathy.

She nibbled the inside of her cheek in awkward silence until he looked up at her again. “Piper, please,” he said quietly. “If you know something about the blood lyrium coming into this city, I need… I would ask that you tell me. It is very important.”

Piper blew out a breath. She genuinely hadn’t meant to tell him much more than she already had; telling him where the blood lyrium was shipping into Kirkwall would mean alerting the Navy to the illicit Darktown docks, and only pirates and a few paid-off navy guards knew about those docks. If she told Cullen, she’d be putting her brethren at risk, especially if they were cracking down on other pirates as harshly as they were trying to crack down on her.

Piper stared hard at him. His face was drawn and serious, and the longer Piper looked at him, the more she realized how exhausted he looked. Dark circles hovered under his coffee-coloured eyes, and he was slightly more stubbly than she remembered.

She nervously licked her lips. “Tell me why this is so important to you. Then I’ll tell you where the lyrium is coming in.”

“I can’t,” he said. “It is a matter of Kirkwall security.”

Piper lifted her chin. “I can’t tell you anything until you tell me why you need so badly to know. I don’t understand why you don’t just do normal patrols to find out—”

“I have tried,” he told her. “But the usual methods of… monitoring such activities are not… open to me right now.”

She frowned at him. His face looked determined but tired, and his voice sounded oddly defeated, and the throbbing sense of sympathy in her chest swelled even further.

She swallowed and forced herself to ignore it. She couldn’t give up the location of the incoming lyrium without getting something in return. She couldn’t place other pirates at risk if Cullen wasn’t willing to take a risk as well.

“Tit for tat,” she said softly. “Tell me why this matters, and I’ll tell you where to look for your smugglers.”

He gazed at her seriously without speaking, and she unflinchingly returned his stare. They eyed each other for a long, loaded moment, and then Cullen sighed.

“I think someone in the upper ranks of the navy is involved in the smuggling,” he told her, very quietly. “I… I am trying to sort it out, but it is… it has been difficult to know who to trust.”

“Oh,” Piper breathed. “Shit.”

“Quite,” Cullen said wryly. He looked away from her and up at the statue of Andraste. “You can see why I am desperate for any kind of information.”

Piper pursed her lips, then sighed. “All right. I’ll tell you where the shipment was to come in. But you have to swear to me that you won’t tell anyone else,” she said severely.

He frowned. “You said–”

“I know what I said. And I know you’re trying to protect Kirkwall. But I have to look after my people, too,” she said. She lifted her chin obstinately. “Promise you won’t tell anyone. You’re the only Navy boy that I’m sure isn’t an asshole. If you tell anyone else, and they raid those docks and kill a bunch of innocent pirates just trying to come and go…”

Cullen grimaced. “Piper, no pirate is innocent.”

“And every Navy berk in a uniform is?” she retorted.

He recoiled slightly, and Piper instantly felt guilty. He’d just told her someone in the upper echelon of the navy was corrupt, and she’d gone and put her foot in her mouth.

She sighed and tugged a loose tendril of hair. “Cullen, please. Just promise you’ll keep this to yourself.”

He ran a hand through his hair, then shrugged in resignation. “I have no choice, do I? I can’t trust anyone else.”

She regarded him silently for a moment. Poor Golden Boy, she thought. He was just trying to do his job, and he couldn’t trust anyone to help him…

She sighed. “The shipment was supposed to arrive in…” She swallowed. “... in Darktown.”

Cullen‘s mouth fell open in surprise. “Darktown?” he said. “How? There are no docks there.”

Piper sighed and started to run her fingers through her hair, but she was stopped by the scarf that held it — just barely — in place. She impatiently untied the scarf to release her wild hair, then explained to Cullen as she tied it back up. “There’s an old fishing shack there that’s half-submerged in the bay, sheltered by the overhang of the cliffs. We usually dock there. It’s shitty and small, only good for tiny dinghies, but that’s the point – so small that only we know about it.”

She finished tucking her hair back into her scarf and looked at him once more, only to find him staring at her. His expression was still serious, but also oddly soft, and her heart did a little flip at the look on his face.

She smiled at him. “What’s the matter, Commander? Cat got your tongue?”

He continued to study her. “This is why you came to Kirkwall?” he asked. “To… to see me and to tell me this?”

She tilted her head curiously. “Yes, of course. Why else would I come?”

His stared wordlessly at her for a moment longer, then shook his head slightly. “You are not like other pirates I have known,” he said softly.

His eyes were so warm, and Piper could feel her ears turning warm in response. She tore her eyes away from his face and laughed lightly. “I’m not like anyone, Golden Boy.”

He huffed quietly in amusement. Then, to Piper’s regret, he rose to his feet. “Thank you for telling me this,” he said. “I… you didn’t have to come. And I would recommend you not come back again,” he added sternly. “Kirkwall is dangerous in the extreme for your kind right now.”

Piper rose to her feet as well. “Oh, just stick to ‘thank you’,” she said cheerfully. “We both know I’m going to do exactly as I like.” She stuck out her hand to shake. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Commander. Perhaps we’ll partner up for some more pleasurable transactions in the future.”

To Piper’s delight, his cheeks went pink. He cleared his throat, then took her hand in his. “Captain Lavellan,” he said formally.

She winked at him as they shook hands. “Golden Boy.”

The corner of his scarred lips lifted in the tiniest hint of a smile. Then his eyes fell to her wrist.

Piper watched as his smile faded away, and she dropped her gaze to see what he was looking at.

He was staring at the white scar on her wrist – a burn scar in the clear, distinctive shape of a P.

Her eyes darted up to his face. His expression was deadly serious.

She smiled. “P for Piper,” she said quietly.

But they both knew what the P was really for, and the practice that was responsible for this scar.

Cullen didn’t reply. His grip on her hand tightened slightly, and then he gently swept his thumb along the back of her hand.

The touch of his thumb was delicate, and for a split second, Piper’s breath caught in her chest. Then Cullen released her hand and took a step back. “I should be going,” he said. “I have other duties to attend. But I will be sending a lieutenant here to fetch you,” he said carefully. “One of my men from Lowtown. You’re protected by the laws of sanctuary, but you will be made to answer for your crimes, Captain Lavellan.”

She nodded. If his men were coming from Lowtown, that gave her a good pocket of time to get out of here and escape to Darktown.

“I’ll be waiting with bells on, Commander,” she said. “Just me and my girl Andraste here.” She winked at him, then slowly – and provocatively – bent over and started gathering her skirt to tie it around her legs once more.

To her deep satisfaction, Cullen’s eyes widened as she drew the skirt up to her thighs. Then he straightened his cravat and stepped away.

“Right. Yes. Um,” he stammered. He tried for a stern scowl, but it ended up looking more like a pout. “Behave yourself in the Chantry,” he said sternly, and he turned on his heel and strode away.

Piper bit back her laughter as he hurried away from her. “I never do,” she called after him.

He shot her one last glance – was that a hint of a smile she saw on his face? – then he was gone.

Piper chuckled, then briskly tied the skirt around her legs. She jammed her hat back onto her head to hide her hair, then hurried to the Chantry doors.

Speed was of the essence now in escaping the Navy. The most direct route to Darktown was a decrepit underground passage about two blocks away, and the fastest way to get there was by crossing through Hightown market again. She’d certainly kick up a fuss by blasting through there, but there was nothing to be done.

She smirked as she peered through the Chantry doors. Stealth was all well and good, but not right now.

Right now, it was time to ruffle some noble feathers.

 - RYNNE -

“... I still can’t believe you simply didn’t go. Rynne, how many times have I told you: at least a day’s notice is the bare minimum for politeness!” Leandra delicately arranged her hat and glare at Rynne. “How am I supposed to show my face at Dulcie’s tea on Friday when you’ve been so unforgivably rude?”

With a huge effort of will, Rynne suppressed a sigh. “The de Launcets are from Orlais. Tell them we do things differently in the Free Marches,” she said loftily. “Dulcie is so foolish, she likely won’t know the difference.”

Leandra slid her gloved hand into the crook of Rynne’s elbow, and Rynne clenched her teeth as her mother viciously pinched the inside of her arm.

“Watch your tone, darling,” Leandra said sweetly. She waved elegantly at a passing acquaintance. “You don’t know who’s listening.”

It’s the Hightown market. Everyone is always listening in this fucking place, Rynne thought resentfully. The social circle here was so insular and small. No one had anything better to do than snoop on each other to see if anyone else’s life was more exciting than their own.

Rynne knew better than to say this, though. At least not in her mother’s company. If Carver was here, she might complain to him about the staid and petty ways of Hightown society, but he was working with Commander Cullen today. Besides, whenever Rynne complained to him, he always just pursed his lips and told her some boring variation of ‘that’s the way it is’ or ‘there’s no point complaining about it’.

She sighed very quietly and wafted through the market beside her mother. Leandra greeted all the ladies they met, and Rynne mindlessly smiled and chatted with each of them about so-and-so’s new baby carriage and the scandalous scratch on what’s-her-face’s heirloom silver platter. With every smile and greeting and banal fucking question she answered, it felt like the manners and the politeness and the inaneness of it all were building up and boiling inside her belly, making her want to scream.

She smiled and nodded politely to another pair of her mother’s friends as they drifted away. Then, predictably, Leandra started badgering her again about the de Launcets.

“Really, Rynne, whatever could have made you decide that you could just send a handmaiden to the de Launcets to turn down their invitation? Dulcie told me that poor Emile was so very disappointed when you didn’t show.”

“Are you certain he wasn’t just upset to not have an audience for his croquet game?” Rynne said. “Not that croquet is much of a spectator sport.”

Leandra pursed her lips. “You are being awfully sarcastic today, darling.”

Rynne blinked innocently. “Does that mean you agree with my opinion about croquet?”

Her mother purses her lips. “You can’t afford to be so choosy. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“And Emile doesn’t seem to be getting any smarter,” Rynne snapped. “Or more interesting. Or less whingy, or–”

Leandra pulled her to a stop. Rynne pressed her lips together hard and lowered her gaze deferentially as her mother lifted her chin.

“I dislike your tone, darling,” Leandra said softly. “We’ll discuss this when we return home.”

Rynne didn’t reply. Already her scalp was itching at the soft, venomous tone of her mother’s voice. Leandra shot her a warning look, then turned away and made her way to the nearest fabric shop.

Finally alone for a moment, Rynne sighed out loud. She fixed a pleasant little smile on her face and reached for her elaborately pinned and curled hair – ostensibly to rearrange a hairpin, but in truth, she wanted to check her scalp.

She gingerly dipped her fingers into the hair behind her left ear and touched the still-painful skin. Then she lowered her hand and surreptitiously checked her fingers.

Good, she thought. No blood. The scratches were scabbing over already, then. Maybe she’d be lucky and it wouldn’t hurt when she washed her hair tomorrow.

She pulled out her fan and nodded demurely to a passing gentleman as she idly fanned herself. Then a commotion at the northeast corner of the market drew her attention.

“Oh my–”

“Such manners!”

“Sorry, mate, you’ll be finding no fucking manners here!”

Rynne perked up. She’d only heard that sultry voice once before, but she’d recognize it any day.

It was Mad Piper, and she seemed to be causing a ruckus in the market – likely by her mere presence alone, since the only elves who frequented Hightown were either servants or merchants. Rynne grinned and tried to peer over the heads of the other marketgoers, but it turned out she didn’t need to; Piper was seemed to be shoving her way through the market at full speed, and directly in Rynne’s direction.

Sure enough, Piper suddenly burst out of the crowd and almost slammed right into Rynne. She dodged swiftly at the last second, and Rynne stumbled in surprise.

“Watch it, love, move it or lose it!” Piper barked. She shoved a stray lock of silvery hair out of her face and met Rynne’s eyes, and her big amber eyes lit up with recognition. “Hey, it’s you! Lady Hawke, right?”

“Oh please, it’s just Rynne,” she said happily. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Oh, running from the law, you know,” Piper panted. She planted her fists on her hips and grinned.

Rynne grinned back at her. “Running from the law, hmm? Sure you weren’t running from one particular Navy commander? Or running after him, more like?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.  She still hadn’t forgotten the surprising and endearing connection that Piper seemed to have with Cullen.

Piper threw her head back and laughed raucously. “Finally someone who understands what I’m about!” she crowed. “I could use someone like you on my crew.”

Rynne barked out a sardonic little laugh. “Where do I sign up?” she said jokingly.

Piper elbowed her. “Right here with me, anytime you want! Seriously, there’s a hammock on my ship if you want it.”

Piper’s eyes were wide and earnest. A funny jolt of excitement made Rynne’s stomach flip. “Wha... are you serious?” Rynne said.

“Sure!” Piper said brightly. “Why not?”

Why not? Well, because it was ridiculous, that was why. The very idea of it: of running off and leaving everything behind to jump on Piper’s ship and join her crew – her crew that included that gorgeous, mysterious Fenris fellow…

Her stomach flipped again. An odd tingle of surreality was climbing up the back of her neck, and she stared at Piper’s open smile for a breathless moment.

It was ludicrous, right? The very thought of it running away to become a damned pirate. Fenris himself had said how dangerous it was to be a pirate, what with the storms and the risk of being board by other pirates and all that. It was… completely ludicrous to even be considering it.

She swallowed hard and took a step back. “Er, not today,” she said. “Maybe, um. Maybe some other time.”

Piper’s smile softened slightly, and she elbowed Rynne again. “Think on it, love,” she said. “Let me know if you change your mind. But for now, I–”

“Shit,” Rynne blurted. Behind Piper’s shoulder, about five metres away, she’d spotted the distinctive navy-blue coats of the Kirkwall Navy – two men, it seemed, and as luck would have it, one of them was Carver.

She grabbed Piper’s wrist and pushed her in the direction of Lowtown. “Go,” she hissed. “I’ll distract them.”

Piper’s gaze darted from Rynne’s face to the lieutenants. “Are you sure? They–”

“One of them is my brother,” she told Piper urgently. “Just go. I’ve got this.”

Piper grinned at her. “Defiant little thing, aren’t you?” she said. “You should definitely join me someday.” She winked at Rynne, then took off.

Rynne watched as the fleet-footed little elf disappeared through the crowd, then gracefully made her way through the crowd toward her brother and his partner. As soon as they caught sight of her, she smiled brightly and waved. “Yoo-hoo! Carver!”

Carver frowned as he spotted her. “Where’s Mother?” he said distractedly as he looked around.  

“In the fabric shop,” Rynne said. She batted her eyelashes at Carver’s partner. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Rynne. Rynne Hawke.” She elegantly offered him her hand.

Carver’s scowl deepened. “We don’t have time for this,” he complained. “We’re working. There’s a notorious pirate loose in–”

“Carver, don’t be rude!” Rynne protested. “What would Mother say?”

Carver’s scowl deepened even further, and Rynne bit the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing. If his face grew any more annoyed, it would collapse in on itself.

He waved bad-temperedly to his partner. “Bryen, this is my sister, Rynne.”

Bryen took her hand and bowed politely. “It’s lovely to meet you, my lady.”

“And you, Lieutenant,” Rynne said graciously. She fanned herself and lifted her shoulder slightly in a flirtatious manner. “You two must be parched. It is frightfully hot today. Can I interest you in some lemonade?”

Carver groaned. “Rynne, we’re working. We don’t want lemonade.”

“Nonsense!” Rynne protested. She gently laid a hand on Byren’s arm. “A refreshing beverage never did anyone any harm.” She gently led Carver’s partner toward the elven cafe that was conveniently on the other side of the market from the direction that Piper had gone. “Now Bryen, I don’t suppose you’re a fan of the theatre? I’ve been hearing such mixed reviews about the play that they’re putting on right now. It’s apparently some Orlesian affair, but the use of masks is quite over the top, if you ask me...”

She continued to prattle vacantly at Carver’s helpless partner while Carver sullenly trailed along behind them. But as she blathered mindlessly about Orlesian masks and her favourite frilly cakes and all kinds of other distracting bullshit that Carver would scold her for later, her mind was on Piper’s spontaneous offer to join her ship.

It was genuinely a terrible idea. Rynne knew nothing about sailing or travelling or, well, anything really aside from being a well-mannered and charming upper-class brat. She’d only get in the way if she ever happened to find herself on Piper’s ship. What would she even do on a pirate ship, anyway? Stare at everyone while they did their sailing and their, er, steering the ship, and… navigating?

It was hopeless. A complete fantasy, as usual, just like all of her wistful hopes.

To be fair, though, she’d made one of her fantasies come to life already. She’d gone to the Lowtown market. She’d made friends with pirates, and even flirted with one of them.

Rynne smirked to herself as she handed six coppers to the café owner. Who knew? Maybe this fantasy would become something more someday, too.

[lindoig5]

Days 6 to 9   Wednesday to Saturday – the wild, wild sea!

Four days at sea – most of it as rough as we have ever experienced before.

Once we were out of the lee of Campbell Island, it became very hard to get around the ship and almost everyone spent most of the first couple of days in bed, sleeping or reading. I spent quite a bit of time in the Bridge looking for birds and whales and the sea was quite extraordinary. There was a rolling swell, probably only 2-3 metres high, but there were constantly seeming upwellings when a peak of water would erupt from the waves upsetting any chance of bracing oneself against it.  I imagine regular seafarers would not notice it, but it seemed to me that with no good cause, a couple of hundred square metres of water simply bulged upwards a couple of metres from its surrounds and rocked the ship violently as it ploughed into it.  We were mostly driving at a shallow angle to the swell resulting in quite long distances surfing the side of the wave and it was quite scary watching the bow surge into the deep until a mere metre of freeboard was visible – and then the wave lifted us so that we couldn’t see the horizon ahead at all because the bow was pointing to the stars.  They altered course a little each time we had a meal in an endeavour to stabilise the dining area a little, but at night, we were either sliding from one end of the bunk to the other or hanging on tight to avoid being tossed sideways onto the floor. The ship is capable of 12.5 knots but slowed to under 5 at times to make our passage a little smoother.  (A few days later, we were sailing along at 15-plus knots with a following current in calmer waters.)  Quite exciting, but many people were very sick and everyone is carrying multiple injuries from bruises to cuts and abrasions.

After a couple of days, the seas abated a little and they decided that it was safe enough to put on a few lectures.  They had a recap session talking about the things people saw on Campbell Island but also had a lecture on the identification of many of the seabirds we are likely to see – quite interesting but far more information that any of us could possibly take in.  At least some of us picked up a few broad pointers that helped us find the right section in our various field guides to start the process.  They also had a film about the Rat Eradication Project that freed Campbell Island entirely of rats.  New Zealand really has had some remarkable, even extraordinary, successes in ridding some of its islands of feral pests – cats, rats, mice, rabbits and foxes mainly.  Stoats, weasels and Aussie possums are still a major problem on the mainland and a few remaining islands.

We have also had three lectures about the history of Antarctic exploration – not particularly well presented but interesting to us having just listened to a talking book covering quite a bit of the same information.  They have shown both episodes of David Attenborough’s Life in the Freezer and two parts of a film about the development of a series of clocks that enabled mariners to determine their longitude.  This was pretty important as it happens.  We later heard about a series of dreadful shipwrecks on Auckland Island that had been clearly mapped – a mere 56 nautical miles from where it actually is!

Friday was Valentine’s Day, an event mentioned in passing by a few people, but no new relationships seem to have blossomed from the day.  But we crossed the 60 degrees South Latitude around noon (a much more significant event), thereby entering the official internationally regulated Antarctic Region.

We woke to our first sub-zero temperatures on Saturday and saw our first iceberg a couple of hours later. There was a competition to guess when we would see the first one and the woman who won (another Heather) guessed it to be at 10am – it was about 10.30 but I think it was rigged.  I reckon it must have been a fake iceberg tethered in place because it was another two days before we saw our second (and our hundredth) one.

A few people saw what they thought were porpoises and I saw a whale (as did the guy standing next to me). We didn’t know what species it was, but when I described it to Dan, our number one naturalist, and modified the sketch he drew to indicate his best guess as to what it was, he immediately said my description and modified drawing was conclusive - the best description he has seen for an adult female long-finned pilot whale – a big tick for me!

That day, we had lectures on the Great White Land and the Ross Sea Region, good preparation for our upcoming encounter with the real thing.

Each evening a small selection of expeditioners are invited to dine with a key staff member and we were invited to Dan’s table.  Apart from getting a free glass of wine, we had a fascinating discussion with him – he is very knowledgeable, much travelled and a really nice guy.  Immediately before dinner, we gathered in the bar to celebrate our entry into the Antarctic Zone, encountering our first iceberg and something else that I can’t recall.  I am sure it was an important celebration, but it obviously got forgotten in the great discussions we had with Dan over dinner.  We discussed all sorts of things about the Antarctic, natural science, flora and fauna, adventure travel, other places any of us had been and anything else that happened to crop up.

[thislassishooked]

Wake Me Up Inside (3/?)

Please enjoy chapter 3, my lovelies. We’re going to begin diving into Killian’s past now. Thanks so much to my beta @resident-of-storybrooke, the very talented @tennant-the-tigger and of course the awesome moderators at @cssns

Ch 1 Ch 2 AO3

Chapter 3

Emma checked her reflection for the tenth time, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. Killian was going to be there at any moment and she was slowly coming down from a panic attack. She had already tried several different sweaters on, each one being too frumpy or too light or too heavy, finally settling on a comfy oversized plum colored one paired with skinny blue jeans. She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn’t a date so she shouldn’t worry about making an impression, right? Did he know that this wasn’t a date? Now she was starting to panic again over the fact that she would have to make that clear to him at some point. A couple of loud knocks on her front door drew her out of her irrational thoughts and she set her worries aside for the time being. Running her fingers through her slightly styled tresses, she took one last look at herself and headed out of her bedroom toward the source of the knocking. She took one last breath before unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door. She was glad she had taken that deep breath because the air quickly left her lungs the moment she laid eyes on him. He was wearing a dark blue Henley that made the blue in his eyes pop and deliciously form fitting black jeans.

He raked his eyes over her form and she suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he uttered, sounding adorably awe-stricken.

She smiled at him, biting her lip in the process. The action elicited a return smile and a raise of his eyebrow.

“Shall we?” he asked tilting his head toward a dark blue pick-up parked out front.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my bag and I packed a few snacks.”

He spotted the large basket sitting on her kitchen counter. “A few snacks?” he laughed.

She elbowed him lightly in the gut and he let out an overly dramatic “oomph”

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a variety to cover all the bases.”

He reached for her hand and drew it to his lips to brush a very sweet, light kiss just above her knuckles. “That was very thoughtful of you, love,” he said, releasing her hand. “Thank you.”

She smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He offered to carry the basket as she locked up and followed him to the truck.

“Nice truck, didn’t think the motorcycle could handle the drive, huh?” she asked cheekily.

“Oh, I know the bike could, but I assure you, your thighs could most certainly not handle it,” he jested, popping the “t” and making her lower abdomen flutter at the obvious innuendo. He opened the door for her and offered his hand to help her into the truck, a smirk firmly in place.

____________________

The first half of the drive was spent playfully arguing over what music to listen to and silly banter. He wanted to listen to 80’s rock music, which she had no problem with of course, but found that it was just too much fun to rile him up. She suggested a country western station simply to see his reaction and when he was just about ready to relent, she couldn’t hold in the laughter anymore. They settled on Green Day, but didn’t end up paying much attention to the music anyway. They fell into easy conversation, mostly over favorite books and movies, but nothing too personal. She didn’t feel quite ready to open up completely to Killian yet and she got the feeling that he felt the same.

As they approached Maldon, Emma fell silent, taking in the scenery. Her eyes darted in all directions. The small Tudor style homes were beautiful, becoming denser as they drew closer to the water. She saw a tall steeple in the distance and realized they were headed right toward it.

“Is that…?” she inquired, pointing in the direction of the steeple.

“All Saints Parish, aye. St. Mary’s is just a few miles down the road as well.” As if sensing her next question he continued. “We’ll drop by both of them before leaving, lass.”

She smiled widely as they navigated the small roads leading to the marina. Emma marveled at the amount of vessels berthed at the Blackwater estuary. Killian pulled up to a booth that was sitting at the entrance to a large parking lot. The heavier set man flashed him a large smile as Killian rolled down the window.

“Good mornin’ to ya, Cap’n Jones. Taking the old girl out to stretch her legs?”

“Aye, it’s been too long, William.”

The man looked past Killian and nodded his greeting to her. She lifted her hand and gave a small wave and a smile.

“And I see ya have a lovely companion this time. The water is calm today, no reports of any storms rollin’ in, have a splendid sail Cap’n.” He handed Killian a tag to hang from his rearview mirror and raised the bar, allowing access.

“Do I have to call you Captain too?” Emma inquired with a chuckle.

Killian turned to face her, a devilish smirk slowly creeping across his face. “Aye, unless you’d prefer the view from the brig of course.”

Emma snorted at that. She knew he wasn’t serious, but wondered if he really had a brig on his boat.

He pulled into a spot and promptly hopped out of the truck to get her door.

“Just like a true gentleman,” she quipped, handing him the basket.

“It’s common courtesy and,” he leaned in close to speak softly into her ear, “I’m always a gentleman,” he retorted with a smirk and a wink. “Unless, of course, the lady would prefer a scoundrel,” he murmured, the smirk still firmly in place. She could feel her face heating slightly and knew she was blushing. She was relieved when he cocked his head in the direction of the marina, motioning her to follow him.

They passed several boats, most with sails that looked like they were used for racing. There were a few motorboats as well as luxury yachts, but Emma was astonished to see that there were a few older, large barges tied to the docks.

“Those are Thames Barges,” he said pointing. “They’re still used today to transport goods back and forth from London.”

They continued walking further down the dock when Emma’s eyes widened in shock. At the end of the dock was a large, renovated pirate ship. They seemed to be walking right toward it and her stomach flipped when he stopped in front of the gangplank leading to the ship.

“Killian,” she gasped, “This is your ship?”

“Aye, this is her.” He tilted his head, apparently trying to read her expression. “Is this not what you were expecting?” he asked deliberately.

Of course she wasn’t expecting a pirate ship and he knew it. She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. The smug bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to her. “When you said ‘ship’, I figured you were simply trying to make your boat or yacht sound more impressive,” she admitted. “Is she modeled after a specific pirate ship?”

“Actually, she isn’t a model at all. I restored her to her former beauty and before you ask, she did not come with a name.” He hated lying to her, but at least it was true that he had been continually renovating his ship, he just left out the part about how many years he’d been at it. The awestruck expression that overtook her face at his revelation took his breath away.

“This is a real pirate ship.” It wasn’t a question, but she just couldn’t find the words to describe what she was feeling. Killian took her hand in his and lead her up the gangplank. Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped on deck. She counted two masts with three heavy white sails billowing in the wind on each. A bowsprit held two headsails attached to jibs at the bow of the ship, ready to lead them in any direction Killian turned the wheel. Killian had obviously called ahead to have his ship prepared and ready to set sail. “Is this a sloop-of-war?” she asked, remembering her grandfather’s descriptions of some famous pirate ships.

He gazed up at her while pulling up the anchor. He looked amazed at her nautical knowledge and she mentally thanked her grandfather.

“Aye, lass,” he said while climbing a small staircase that led to the helm. “Technically, if we’re not a war, you can call her a brigantine. Have I mentioned what a bloody marvel you are yet today?”

She smiled bashfully at that and slowly followed him, taking her time to thoroughly inspect the vessel. The deck was a dark walnut, about 70 feet long. The outer edges of the ship had been painted a rich navy blue with yellow trim. She leaned over just enough to see that there was a gun deck. “How many gun ports does she have?”

Killian had just begun guiding the ship out of the harbor, his hands firmly grasping the wheel. She froze in place, admiring his form as he effortlessly maneuvered his ship, turning the bow into the wind. The reflection of the sparkling ocean’s surface in the morning sun had made his eyes shine impossibly bluer. Emma was surprised by the speed of the large ship, the marina getting smaller as they headed out into the Blackwater River. She joined him by his side, sharing in the elation that was radiating from his body. She could tell he hadn’t been sailing in a long time based on the wide smile that reached his eyes. His teeth even seemed to glitter in the sun. She jumped as his arm snaked around her waist to position her in front of him. He guided her hands with his to the same two handles his previously held. She could feel the warmth of his body and the ghost of his breath on her neck. She took a stuttering breath and concentrated on pushing ahead.

“Twenty four,” he said huskily.

“What?” she asked genuinely confused.

“You asked me how many gun ports on board, there are twenty four and fourteen cannon holds,” he clarified. “All disabled, I assure you.” She couldn’t see it, but she knew he was smirking behind her.

“Isn’t it bad luck to captain a ship with no name?”

“Aye,” he said coming around from behind to face her. He crossed his arms and lazily leaned against the helm’s railing. “But you see, naming a ship is never to be taken lightly. She had a name once, long ago, and none of the names I’ve considered seemed appropriate.”

Killian decided immediately that he very much liked the sight of her navigating his ship. Her golden hair was gleaming brightly in the late morning sun as the wind blew the heavy locks fluently from her face. Her lively eyes were focused straight ahead, with the occasional glance in his direction. He continued to admire her beauty as well as her natural ability to handle the old girl.

“So,” she suddenly spoke, breaking his trance. “you just happened to come across a functioning 300 year old pirate ship on one of your expeditions? How do you even know it belonged to pirates? And for that matter, how did you keep it out of a museum?”

She was speaking so fast, Killian wasn’t sure where to start. How was he going to explain how he knew that the William was a pirate ship without revealing that it belonged to Jack? He did have Jack’s journal stowed safely away in the captain’s quarters and wondered if he could convince her that it belonged to a lesser known pirate captain.

That could easily backfire if she begged him to let her read it, knowing full well that he would not be able to say no. Killian’s name was mentioned in several passages, seeing as he was Jack’s first mate and best friend. Thankfully, Jack was wise enough not to ever mention Killian’s condition, taking that secret to his grave. Killian’s own captain’s log was stored with Jack’s as well with 300 year old handwritten script.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. You are the expert and if you say this is a pirate ship, I believe you.” She leaned in close to his ear, nearly brushing her nose along the shell, causing his breath to stutter. “And don’t worry,” she leaned in impossibly closer and whispered, “I won’t tell anyone you’re hoarding a priceless, centuries old brigantine.”

Killian let his eyes fall shut, imagining how her lips would feel pressed against the sensitive skin behind his ear. He hadn’t felt such attraction to a woman since Anne.

Killian took over navigating the ship once they reached the mouth of the river. Emma prepared bite sized pieces of baguette with creamy gouda with sweet red grapes and fed him as well as herself while asking multiple pirate related questions. Every time he would tell her something she didn’t already know she would adorably squeal with delight, then promptly cover her mouth in embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me that Calico Jack didn’t have a relationship with either women aboard his ship?” Killian nodded his head in the affirmative. “That’s not what I read and my grandpa told me that Anne Bonny was the love of Jack’s life,” she argued.

“Well you see, Swan, as Jack was approaching his 38th year, he was ready to retire and his first mate was willing to take on the title of captain as well as his namesake.”

“Just like Wesley and the Dread Pirate Roberts,” she said under her breath.

“Dread Pirate who?” Killian asked, baffled

“What, have you been living in a cave for the last 30 years?” she ask jokingly. He scratched behind his right ear just then, a gesture that Emma immediately recognized as a nervous tell. The look on his face told her that she may be closer to the truth about his living arrangements than he was comfortable with. She decided to drop the subject for the time being, remembering that they both still had a lot to learn about each other if they were going to be friends.

“I think we need to have a movie night,” she announced as she placed the leftover food in the basket. Killian was turning them around to head back to the marina.

“So if what you’re saying is correct, Jack’s first mate was Anne’s lover.”

“Aye.” Emma noticed a shadow had passed over Killian’s features. She took the hint and gave him a reassuring smile before heading below deck to place the picnic basket in the gally and also take a moment to admire the craftsmanship put into the intricate interior. She ran her finger along the large oak desk that sat perpendicular to a four poster bed adorned with a soft, woven, deep purple comforter.

“Emma.” His sudden appearance below deck had her nearly jumping out of her skin. The last thing she needed was for him to believe she was snooping. “I’m sorry for my poor manners earlier.” He looked so conflicted and troubled that all Emma could do was place her hand upon his scruffy cheek and encourage him to look her in the eyes

“You don’t owe me an apology or an explanation,” she assured him. “We’ve only just met and you are entitled to your secrets.” He gave her an appreciative yet sheepish smile. “God knows I have my fair share,” she said with a sigh. “This is beautiful, by the way,” she complimented, sweeping her hand to indicate she meant the entire room.

“Aye, I refurbished it to be as accurate as possible, but the quarters took a great deal of damage in what I assume was the old girl’s last battle.”

“What kind of damage?”

“Cannon fire, mostly. I had to replace the entire outer wall and my brother helped me craft the bed and desk to look as authentic as possible.”

“Wow,” Emma said, raising her eyebrows high up her forehead. She studied the fine details of the bedposts, unable to keep her hands from stroking the smooth, lacquered wood. “Will I ever have the pleasure of making your talented brother’s acquaintance?” she asked, still admiring the skill that went into creating such beautiful woodwork.

“Perhaps, although he and his family tend to lead a bit of a reclusive life,” Killian explained, hoping she wouldn’t pry. She seemed to accept his answer with a resigned smile.

“Well, please pass on my compliments the next time you see him.”

Killian nodded and noticed a few yachts passing the ship through the cabin’s porthole. “I’m going to weigh anchor, love and we’ll be back to shore shortly. How do you feel about visiting my old watering hole? It’s just a short stroll from the marina.”

Emma gave him a wide smile. “I would love that.” He grinned back and jogged up the narrow stairs, or as he had corrected her earlier, ‘anything resembling stairs on a ship is called a ladder, love’.

Killian held the door to The Jolly Sailor open for Emma. She flashed him a grateful smile and stepped inside the cheesy yet cheerful pub. Of the few patrons enjoying their afternoon libations, there were two types of men. One very boisterous group, that sat at the bar with huge mugs of beer, wore slicker pants and smelled of salt and fresh fish. The other group that occupied a larger table in the back of the bar, as far from the working class men as possible, were dressed in preppy white sweaters and pleated pants. Stereotypical, privileged snobs from West Essex county, no doubt. She had come in contact with enough of them on campus to be able to single them out instantly. Killian led her to the far end of the bar and offered his hand to assist her as she hopped onto the tall barstool. He removed his jacket, placing it on the back of the stool, and sat beside her, eyeing the drink menu.

“As I live and breath,” a male voice boomed from behind the bar. “Killian Jones,” the sandy haired bartender started, “I thought you’d gone and died and forgot to invite me to your funeral.” The friendly man approached them after refilling a pint for one of the fishermen. His smile grew wider as his eyes fell on Emma.

“Always a pleasure, Rob,” Killian replied, returning his greeting with his own warm smile. “Robin, this is Emma Swan,” he gestured towards her with his hand. “Emma, this is Robin Locksley, owner of this fine establishment.” Robin held out his hand in greeting and as she placed her hand in his, he raised her knuckles to his lips to place a feather light kiss upon them.

“It is very nice to meet you, Emma.”

“Likewise,” she replied with a blush. Killian cleared his throat and Robin let go of her hand.

“Emma is a research fellow at Cambridge,” Killian explained.

“Color me impressed. What is it that you research, Miss Swan?”

“I’m a hematologist,” she began, but paused when she noticed the quick dart of his eyes from hers to Killian’s then back to hers.

“A hematologist studies… blood, if I’m not mistaken?” Robin recovered quickly.

“That’s correct. I specialize in blood disorders. At the moment I am awaiting approval from the board of directors to continue my research on a drug formula that could eradicate porphyria as well many other forms of blood disorders.” Robin’s mouth dropped open at the mention of the rare disease and Emma was about to ask him about his odd behavior when Killian cleared his throat once again, grabbing her attention.

“What would you like to drink, love?” She didn’t quite know what to think about their odd behavior so she decided to just let her suspicion die for the moment.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Killian scratched behind his ear again, clearly nervous about disappointing her with his selection. “Hey,” she said, placing her hand on his scruffy cheek, “I trust your judgment.” He let out a small sigh of relief. “I’m going to run to the ladies room.”

Killian watched her disappear as she followed the signs directing her to the hallway at the back of the bar to find the restrooms. He was startled back to reality by his friend’s sudden and loud, fake cough.

“Killian, what the hell is going on? I haven’t seen or heard from you in a couple months and now you show up unannounced, with a woman no less. Who is she to you?” Robin crossed his arms and waited, his eyes warning Killian that he would know if he tried to lie to him.

Robin was Killian’s best and, until Emma, only friend and the only mortal who knew of his condition.

It was a stormy afternoon when Killian had been passing by the pub after docking his ship and preparing her for the impending nasty weather that was sure to hit the seaside town when he heard a scuffle and a cry for help. With superhuman speed, he followed the noise around to the back alley of the Jolly Sailor, a pub and boarding house that had been in operation for as long as he has been “alive”. He spotted the pub’s newest owner with a bloodied face, crumpled on the ground in the fetal position, trying to stave off his attackers. Killian’s blood boiled when he saw that it was three thugs against one helpless bartender. He charged at the human scum with great force, knocking two of them ten feet back against a chain link fence while the third turned on him. Killian easily dodged each attempted blow from the drunkard, kicking him in the arse and sending him head first into the side of the building, knocking him out cold. The beaten man yelled out a warning just as Killian felt a knife being jabbed into his lower back, no doubt piercing his kidney. Big mistake, Killian mused. He turned to face the startled mugger and pulled the knife from his back, turning it on the frightened man.

“Please, we was only lookin’ to rob ‘im. Me and Gerald,” he gestured to his scared companion behind him, “we haven’t been able to find work in months and we was desperate. We have families to feed.” The man was visibly shaking with fear as the owner of the business stood and cautiously approached Killian and the would be thieves. He would have a black eye and a split lip and possibly some bruised ribs, but he would live. Killian was astonished to see a flash of sympathy in the man’s eyes. East Essex was a notoriously poor neighborhood with an astoundingly high unemployment rate.

“So you believe that gives you the right to steal from others who are trying to make a living as well?” Killian asked with a little less venom this time.

“No sir. We was desperate, haven’t eaten in days, weren’t thinkin’ straight, we wasn’t.” By now, the man Killian had knocked out was starting to come to with a groan. “I… I didn’t mean to stab you,” he stuttered out, obviously afraid for his life.

Killian turned his head toward the pub owner and the two shared an unspoken understanding.

“Why don’t you come inside, get warm and dry and I’ll make some soup and bread for you to take home to your families,” the bloodied owner offered. The three men stared dumbly at him, as if they couldn’t believe what they had just heard. Nevertheless, they followed the man, Killian bringing up the rear to keep a watchful eye on them and the man, Robin, as Killian would later learn was his name, was true to his word. The five of them sat at the table nearest to the fireplace, occasionally laughing uproariously at a shared anecdote while Robin periodically checked on the soup and freshly made bread. The man who had thrust his knife into Killian’s back was Lawrence, and his two friends were Gerald and Harry. Killian did his best to explain that Lawrence was so inexperienced with a knife that he had only cut his favorite leather jacket, showing him the lack of blood to set his mind at ease.

“I’m real sorry about ruinin’ your leather trench coat, Mr. Jones,” Lawrence apologized again.

“Don’t you worry about my coat, Lawrence. All you need to worry about is getting that food back to your family while it’s still warm and finding a job. I have a few contacts at a factory in Essex. I’ll give them a call, see what I can do for you. All of you.”

“To Mr. Jones and Mr. Locksley,” Gerald began, raising his mug, “may you both live long and prosperous lives!” Killian flinched at the toast, but quickly schooled his features to show appreciation for the kind words.

Robin sent the men off, each with a basket full of warm bread and pots full of hot, hearty soup. He had since cleaned his face of any blood and approached Killian with another two mugs of frothy, amber liquid. He sat across from Killian, taking a moment to study him and making Killian feel on edge.

“Thank you for your assistance today, mate.” Killian nodded before taking a swig of the much needed alcohol. He knew that Robin was not so easily convinced by his explanation he had given to Lawrence. “Does your injury need attending to?”

“No,” Killian relented. He ran his hand threw his hair, preparing himself for the inevitable twenty questions that were sure to come.

“Robin Locksley,” he offered his hand in formal greeting.

“Killian Jones.” The men shook hands.

“Well, Killian Jones, you have just earned yourself free beer for life at the Jolly Sailor,” Robin declared. Killian could do nothing, but gape at the man he dared call a friend.

“Mate…” Killian started, but was swiftly interrupted.

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Killian sighed in relief. “However, one day in the future, perhaps after I have earned your trust, you may find that I make a rather excellent confidant.” Robin gave him a genuine smile and Killian knew it was only a matter of time before he shared his darkest of secrets.

That day came sooner than he had expected.

“So, if I’m understanding you correctly, you were cursed with vampirism by a voodoo priestess,”

“Obeah,” Killian corrected.

“Apologies, you were cursed with vampirism by an obeah priestess because you were dying from an incurable infection and your friend, Jack, took you to her to save your life after you deserted Her Majesty's Royal Navy in 1716.”

Killian nodded his head. “Aye.”

Robin starred just a second longer and Killian opened his mouth to explain further when the man refilled his mug and slid it over to him. “Sounds feasible to me,” Robin grinned. Killian expelled a relieved chuckle and from that day forward, the two men formed a tight bond which led to Killian eventually sharing the whole sad tale to his friend.

The clearing of Robin’s throat tore Killian out of his reverie. He knew he couldn’t avoid his friend’s inquiry so he blurted out the truth.

“Emma is the last remaining descendant of Woodes Rogers,” he confessed solemnly. Robin’s mouth fell open and his arms loosened from their locked position across his chest.

“What the devil is she doing with you then, out in the open like this?” Robin asked with a hushed yell. Killian ran his hand through his already disheveled hair.

“Barnett knows she’s alive. I’ve been charged with ensuring her safety as well as befriending her until we can figure out what he wants with her. As far as we can tell, he doesn’t want her killed. At least not immediately.”

“Fuck,” Robin breathed out.

“Aye,” Killian agreed.

“Well, if friendship is all you’re after, you had better tone down the charm, my friend.” Killian arched his eyebrow in confusion, waiting for his friend to elaborate. Robin shook his head while chuckling, much to Killian’s bemusement. “Sometimes I forget how long you’ve been out of the game, old man.”

“Might I remind you, old man, I’m technically only 32; However, I do remember celebrating your 42nd birthday a few months ago,” Killian countered with a shit-eating grin.

“Be that as it may,” Robin leaned in, “you haven’t had much experience with the fairer sex in nearly 300 years, my friend.” Killian lowered his eyes to study the etchings in the counter top at the thought of his long lost love. “Just be careful,” Robin cautioned. “You have a fragile heart and that lovely young woman just may be the one to fix it or break it.”