OOM: Pearl Repairs

[politestpirate]

The sky is cool, grey, and occasionally misting, but that just means when you are working hard you can keep warm enough.

And there is certainly plenty of work to be done. The deck of the Black Pearl has been cleared off, with debris and pieces that are large enough to reuse stacked carefully. All over is the gleam of cut and exposed wood, the splintered edges cut and smoothed in preparation for patching sections. One mast has been cleared of charred and torn sails and rigging, the canvas and rope set in one area to work on before it can be sent back up.

One of the current priorities, however, is fixing the stern section of the ship, the back wall of the captain's cabin, that took some of the worse damage from the kraken-

Scottish autumn nights can start to get chilly, afterall.

Party thread style, slowtimes more than welcome.

Comments

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

Norrington is no skilled carpenter, but he can do basic ship repair well enough.

And it keeps him occupied.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

And Wellard-

Well, he was reading and studying ship-building even before the Pearl arrived at Milliways. That studying is getting put to good use for repair work, now.

There are quite a few people that have volunteered to help on the ship- some he knows, some he does not. At least yet. So, while taking a break for a moment at cutting a piece of wood to fit to replace a bit of railing, he wanders over.

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

Norrington glances at him sideways.

"Mr. Wellard."

[aj_crawley]

There's a large dark shape flitting about overhead, high amongst the remaining rigging - has been for a while. Mostly silent, except for the odd warning that floats down a little in advance of anything to awkward to be lowered by hand.

Now, however:

"Little help?"

Crowley's perched above the fore topsail, one arm around the mast, and eyeing the yard on which he balances with some small amount of concern.

"Could use a hand up here," he calls.

And after a moment:

"Someone light."

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

He had been working intently at fixing a section of the railing by the stairs to the quarterdeck- So much so that he had not quite noticed anyone up in the rigging as of yet. The section was just fitted into place, when he heard the call-

("-Are you light enough to ride the gun?"

Wellard sets down the tools, and stands, looking up to the masts.

"A moment, then!"

Thankfully, he was never one of those officers scared of heights. With still some care to the rigging, Wellard starts up, quickly.

[aj_crawley]

"Careful as you come up," Crowley shouts down, shifting his weight as the slight breeze ruffles his feathers. "Spar's not as sturdy as I'd like - that sort of. Being the issue, here."

[gonna_live]

She's not any great shakes at carpentering --

-- carping? --

-- but Kaylee can build, a little; and do simple repairs.

Right now she's in the captain's cabin, having just transported a few freshly sanded boards. (One by one. Carefully.) She's got a toolbox, and a tape measure. (Digital.) Now it's time to start seeing about repairing the back wall.

[pirate_jack]

There's the sound of boots on wood as Jack saunters in -- slowly. He's carrying a bundle of oiled cloth, piled high enough that it's not especially easy for him to see over it.

This shouldn't matter, given how well he knows the ship-- but somehow Jack manages to bark his shin into a chair that's been moved somewhere along the line, and drops everything on the floor.

"Bugger."

It's about at this point that he notices Kaylee's presence. With a shrug, he grins at her.

"Hello, lass."

[gonna_live]

"Oh -- "

Kaylee straightens up, and comes over to see about putting things to rights, stooping carefully. "Sorry about that -- "

[v_knidh8er]

Do you hear that?
That...noise? It's like a tapping.
Not random, or slow like the sound of shallow waves hitting the bow.

No, this is more rhythmic.

Onetwothree
Onetwothree
Onetwothree four fivesixseveneight

It's not coming from behind that deckside cabin door, is it?

[river_meimei]

River, drifting past, pauses.

Cocks her head, slowly, her gaze on the tree-edged horizon.

And then takes two steps towards the door, and bends sideways to listen.

[v_knidh8er]

The thumping continues.

Onetwothree
Onetwothree
Onetwothree four fivesixseveneight

Though, now that she's closer it sounds so much more like clapping.

[river_meimei]

There's a lot of work to be done yet.

No one's given River anything specific to do, though -- Jack hauled the raft over with a gold-toothed grin and a wink, gave her a hand down off the railing with exaggerated swaying courtliness, and then scurried off in alarm when someone called out a question about the barrel of rum in his cabin.

So she's wandering, barefoot and dreamy, pausing every now and then to inspect something.

[pirate_jack]

He's not one to stay still at a single project -- he's the captain, after all. He's been from the bilges to the bowsprit over the last little while, seeing people settled in their work and bundling oilcloth into the cabin for the windows, at one point.

(It'll do until the plexiglas arrives.)

Be that as it may, at the moment, Jack Sparrow's set himself up in a cleared space on the quarterdeck, one with a good view of the decks and the water approach. A patch-rack's braced nearby, and canvas is being stretched on it and treated for use on the sails.

Jack himself is going over a sail, with a length of heavy, oiled silk attached to a canvas-needle held in his teeth.

[mercurialist]

"Come all ye young fellows who follow the sea..."

Mercer can't sing for shit. This has never stopped him.

He's walking along one of the few unbroken stretches of quarterdeck railing, one foot before the other and arms held out for balance.

"With a way, hay! We'll blow the man down!"

[pirate_jack]

"Mmph mmmmph mm."

He pauses, and with an elaborate gesture removes the needle and thread from his mouth, looking up at the man on the rail.

"Not enough wind to blow you over, mate."

[seeks-sixfinger.livejournal.com]

Even before he was a pirate, Inigo knew ships. You don't spend as long as he did travelling the world without picking things up.

He's currently kneeling in front a gap in the railing, a small pile of salvaged wood nearby as he sifts through it, looking for pieces the right size to be used in repairing the gap.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

And- here is a pile of larger pieces, set down carefully next to Inigo.

"Might have some better luck sorting through here, sir."

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

Archie's up on the main deck, catching a bit of fresh air before plunging back into the depts of the gundeck. And so, he's sitting on one of the intact bits of railing, sleeves still rolled up, looking out over the lake, trying to decide what he wants to tackle next. Company is more than welcome.

[pirate_jack]

From his location on the quarterdeck, Jack gives a half-wave, then hastily supports the sail that had gone slipping in his moment of inattention.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Millitime!

Sometimes after this (http://midshipwellard.livejournal.com/18444.html?thread=157964#t157964)-

Thankfully there are some repairs that do not require delicate work. Like pounding in nails on new planks on the deck.

Given Wellard's apparent mood at this moment...

[mercurialist]

Mercer's been enlisted to take on the snarled ropes and sailcloth dangling from the mizzenmast. He's whistling as he balances precariously on the cracked stay, alternately untangling and cutting the knots as he goes.

The tune's unidentifiable, and yet, somehow, it still manages to sound off-key.

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

Sometimes one simply can't stay belowdecks all day, and so here's an Archie, climbing the rigging to asses what still needs to be done up here. After all, unlike Horatio, he'd always quite liked the view from high above the deck. He winces slightly at the off-key whistling, glancing about for the source.

"Ahoy there?"

[merrimanlyon]

Repairing a ship is a good deal easier when the vessel is in dry-dock. Out of the water, it is easier to spot cracks and loose boards and other problems with the hull, and offers the chance to clear out the accumulation of foul-smelling bilge that can be found in even the best-made ships. But Milliways has no dry-dock for a vessel the size of the Pearl, and that makes work on the hull rather difficult...but not impossible.

This line of thought would explain why Merriman is slowly walking around the perimeter of the ship, carefully examining the hull for cracks and holes near the water-line.

If the fact that he's walking on the surface of the water is at all out of the ordinary -- well, he doesn't seem to be troubled by it.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

There are certainly times when the fact that the Commodore is not just Mister Merriman Lyon, but much more, is quite reminded to Wellard.

This would be one of them.

As it is, Wellard is leaning over the railing on one side of the ship, watching him.

"... You may want to keep an eye out for the shark, sir."