Open Log: Big Blue Wet Thing

[goingtobeunwell]

Terrors waking that morning will find a few things amiss with the ship: 1. it's hot and humid inside their cabins, and 2. the ship itself is rocking.  Swaying, in fact, as though the ice beneath them has melted and the ship is moving. Which it is, actually, and quite quickly too. 

The holes in the side of Terror have been repaired, the rigging put up on the masts, the dual wheels of the helm moving as the ship races through the waves on its own. Up above the sun is shining brightly. 
H.M.S. Terror is sailing once more, destination unknown.

Comments

[lieutenantsteward]

"Known, sir," he tells him. "Known to us? Possibly. Mr. Goodsir seems to recognize the wildlife."

[goingtobeunwell]

“Pacific, I think,” Crozier agrees. “Close to the Equator, judging solely by the heat and humidity. We’ll need our instruments to ascertain the rest.”

He leans against the side of the ship and breathes in the sea air. “I thought for sure we’d be crushed by the ice. Or sunk. But never...never this.”

[lieutenantsteward]

"This is only possible here." He is certain of that. "Is there anything I can do for you this morning, sir?"

[goingtobeunwell]

"More open water," he smiles, echoing a conversation they shared a lifetime ago. "Enjoy the sea, my lad. Enjoy the sea. We can worry about the destination over supper later."

[lieutenantsteward]

It was in an entire different life, but he smiled nonetheless. "Of course." He paused. "It is good to see joy return to you, Captain." He places a gentle hand on his arm before turning to return below. He can't enjoy the sea until his work is complete.

[goingtobeunwell]

He knows the happiness he's feeling is unmistakable on his face, and he's glad for it. Let the world see it. He hasn't felt this way in years.