Post by Steve on Jan 17, 2006 15:55:41 GMT -5
Somewhere near Cape of Good Hope, South Africa...
Jan was going to be sick. If he didn't die first. Even if he did die, he was certain he'd be sick shortly after anyway. The captain of this worm-eaten tub assured him the swells would smooth out once they hit the open ocean, but he was not sure the lurching in his stomach each time the horizon dropped away would wait that long.
As chief mercantile officer of the Dutch East India Company, Herero District, he had received a sealed letter from the home office in Amsterdam two weeks ago. It seemed he had earned a promotion, of sorts. Effective immediately, he was to be transferred to Indonesia to assume operations in the Java Sea. The news struck him as odd, and there was no explanation given, but he had little choice in the matter. Baltus, that fat, oily bastard in Amsterdam, had made up his mind. So he had packed up his comfy plantation house in Namibia and boarded the next ship sent to pick him up, en route to Java.
Now the ship's captain, a filty man named Pietr van Haas, swaggered - no, waltzed - across the deck to where Jan was leaning on the starboard rail. Smirking wickedly to himself, "We'll clear the cape within the hour, sir."
Jan tried to right himself on the deck, but the movement nauseated him. "Very good, captain. Umm, let me know... uh, when we're... almost there. Or something"
"Aye, sir!" The captain turned to leave.
"Wait, Pietr?" Jan croaked.
The captain stopped seemed to tense, and turned, smiling. "Pietje, sir. No one calls me Pietr."
"Fine, Captain... Pietje. Where did you say you learned to sail?" Jan asked.
"Didn't, sir." he replied bluntly, still smiling.
Carefully considering if he wanted the answer, he rephrased, "Well then, where did you learn to sail?"
"St. Maarten, sir." he replied, unflinching.
"St. Maarten?!" Jan's alarm was tempered by the numb feeling around his lips. "Isn't that place run by pirates?"
Pietje pretended to look offended. Poorly. "No sir! Piracy has been outlawed for over a century!" The captain leaned in close, "and don't let the crew 'ear you talking like that - they're liable to take it personal-like." He tipped him a wink.
Jan eyed him suspiciously, "You're not a pirate?"
"No, sir." he said, knocking his heels together and straightening up, suddenly the model of naval discipline.
He still looked like a pirate to Jan. "Really?"
"Nope." the captain's lips tightened in a straight line.
Jan looked back out the rolling sea, cracked, red eyes peeled for the first sign of Java, though it was still thousands of miles away. "Fine." he sighed. Jan closed his eyes.
As the captain turned, a young sailor wrestling with an uncooperative swath of heavy canvas slid across the deck and connected solidly with the captain's shoulder. The canvas caught the wind and threatened to blow the two men overboard before the captain regained his footing and shoved the young seaman sprawling back across the deck. Glaring at the sailor sent the younger man scrambling in the other direction. The captain skulked away, muttering to himself.
"arrgh, matey..."
"I heard that!" Jan screamed.
Suddenly the ship dipped at a sickening angle. Jan's stomach finally failed him and clenched painfully in his belly. The mornings eggs, coffee and bile washed across the deck.
It was going to be a long, long trip.
Jan was going to be sick. If he didn't die first. Even if he did die, he was certain he'd be sick shortly after anyway. The captain of this worm-eaten tub assured him the swells would smooth out once they hit the open ocean, but he was not sure the lurching in his stomach each time the horizon dropped away would wait that long.
As chief mercantile officer of the Dutch East India Company, Herero District, he had received a sealed letter from the home office in Amsterdam two weeks ago. It seemed he had earned a promotion, of sorts. Effective immediately, he was to be transferred to Indonesia to assume operations in the Java Sea. The news struck him as odd, and there was no explanation given, but he had little choice in the matter. Baltus, that fat, oily bastard in Amsterdam, had made up his mind. So he had packed up his comfy plantation house in Namibia and boarded the next ship sent to pick him up, en route to Java.
Now the ship's captain, a filty man named Pietr van Haas, swaggered - no, waltzed - across the deck to where Jan was leaning on the starboard rail. Smirking wickedly to himself, "We'll clear the cape within the hour, sir."
Jan tried to right himself on the deck, but the movement nauseated him. "Very good, captain. Umm, let me know... uh, when we're... almost there. Or something"
"Aye, sir!" The captain turned to leave.
"Wait, Pietr?" Jan croaked.
The captain stopped seemed to tense, and turned, smiling. "Pietje, sir. No one calls me Pietr."
"Fine, Captain... Pietje. Where did you say you learned to sail?" Jan asked.
"Didn't, sir." he replied bluntly, still smiling.
Carefully considering if he wanted the answer, he rephrased, "Well then, where did you learn to sail?"
"St. Maarten, sir." he replied, unflinching.
"St. Maarten?!" Jan's alarm was tempered by the numb feeling around his lips. "Isn't that place run by pirates?"
Pietje pretended to look offended. Poorly. "No sir! Piracy has been outlawed for over a century!" The captain leaned in close, "and don't let the crew 'ear you talking like that - they're liable to take it personal-like." He tipped him a wink.
Jan eyed him suspiciously, "You're not a pirate?"
"No, sir." he said, knocking his heels together and straightening up, suddenly the model of naval discipline.
He still looked like a pirate to Jan. "Really?"
"Nope." the captain's lips tightened in a straight line.
Jan looked back out the rolling sea, cracked, red eyes peeled for the first sign of Java, though it was still thousands of miles away. "Fine." he sighed. Jan closed his eyes.
As the captain turned, a young sailor wrestling with an uncooperative swath of heavy canvas slid across the deck and connected solidly with the captain's shoulder. The canvas caught the wind and threatened to blow the two men overboard before the captain regained his footing and shoved the young seaman sprawling back across the deck. Glaring at the sailor sent the younger man scrambling in the other direction. The captain skulked away, muttering to himself.
"arrgh, matey..."
"I heard that!" Jan screamed.
Suddenly the ship dipped at a sickening angle. Jan's stomach finally failed him and clenched painfully in his belly. The mornings eggs, coffee and bile washed across the deck.
It was going to be a long, long trip.